The Black Knights

by Meddler Incs

Once you join the infamous college team known as the Black Knights, there are only three things that matter: lifting, fucking, and football.

The Black Knights, #1 4 parts Added Aug 2016 Updated 19 May 2017 23k views 4.6 stars (27 votes) 6,479 words

Part 1 Once you join the infamous college team known as the Black Knights, there are only three things that matter: lifting, fucking, and football. (added: 3 Aug 2016)
Part 2
Part 3 The coach finds the narrator reluctant to join the team. Like that will stop him. (added: 23 Dec 2016)
Part 4 The initiation rite begins! (added: 19 May 2017)
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Part 1

They are called the Black Knights.

A team of twenty some-odd football players, they are one of the best in the region, and one of the more famous college teams in the state. I know them only by reputation, but during the season, you get to see them strutting around in their black and white jerseys and practicing their plays on the field.

During the matches, they’re fantastic, or so the newspapers say. So-and-so sacking the opposing player, that player punting, another running so many yards down for the touchdown. Personally, I don’t follow the sport, so I find it weird to find so many people following them. That is what fanaticism does to people, I say.

Recently, I have a few of the goons alongside me in my classes, and I have to say they are extremely hot. All of them are huge—plenty of huge muscles and thick bulk stretching their black UnderArmor shirts and tights to the utmost. And they’re tall. The smallest must be six feet, maybe six two. I never get the chance to talk to them. As I said, I am not a fan of the team, but damn it, I fantasize about them flexing and making me worship them like crazy.

During a class project, I got the chance to talk to a player, this stern-looking guy by the name of Travis. Or ‘Trav’ as he told me to call him. Easily six feet tall and, according to him, three-hundred pounds of rock-hard beef. A thick shock of black hair cut into a Mohawk and a heavy 5 o’clock shadow. But that doesn’t hide the cute chin dimple he has or that amazing smile. And his voice, good grief: Heavy and deep.

Anyway, we talked about things, or I should say, he did. He discussed about weightlifting, rambled about football, and bragged about sex. He was a monster all the way, he said, flexing a heavy arm and then grabbing his equally heavy bulge. After he got on the team, he said, it was all he could think of. Lifting, fucking, and football.

“We call them The Big Three,” he chuckled. “We can’t get enough of them.”

After class, I had to get to a restroom stall to jerk off a few times, imagining him in the bed, rutting like the beast he claimed, also him in front of a mirror, stroking that heavy cock that he must have and worshipping his amazing muscles. When I got out, another player was there washing his hands. He was a rich chocolate brown and thick everywhere with a giant shelf of an ass. He glanced at me through the mirror, and as he reached over to get the paper towels, he bounced his chest a bit. He smirked a bit before he left, leaving me to see that rump in motion. I had to get back to stall for another session.

Trav and I met up a few times after that. He was a goofy football jock, cracking jokes and teasing me with an occasional pose. Sometimes he would bring another teammate along, and we would have a blast. They once got me to one of their victory parties, which I have to say was all right with all of the team around. All that beef. Yum.

A few days after that party, I got into another meet-up with Trav. I was polishing up my notes from another class when a gym bag landed on the desk with a clatter. I looked up to find Trav and that killer smile.

“Hey, dude,” he said. He always call guys ‘dude’. Or ‘bro’. “What’s shaking?”

I tried to move the bag and succeeded barely, falling to the floor with a louder clatter. That was one heavy bag! “I’m finishing up my notes, as you can see.” I motioned to the notes.

He snorted. “Fuck that noise, bro. Wanna join me for practice?”


“Yeah, bro.” He leaned closer. “We’re looking for recruits, and you seem like a good player.” He grinned. “Nice and toned.”

I cleared my throat. “I don’t play. I don’t even follow the game.”

He drew back in surprise. “The fuck, dude? All this time, bro?”

“Yeah. Sorry, but you have to find someone else.”

“Hey dude!” a thick bass voice cried out. A beefy arm wrapped around Trav’s neck.

“Get off, ya goof,” Trav growled, shaking off the arm. “What are you doing here, dude?”

Another guy in the trademark black and white lycra stepped around Trav. He was a huge muscle bear—muscles and hair erupted everywhere you looked. He sported a long beard and a shaved head polished to a shine.

“Looking for you, fucker,” the bear growled. “And you?”

Trav waved a hand to me. “Trying to get a recruit.”

“One that does not want to go,” I said as the other guy strutted to me. Damn, he was hot! And that bulge looked amazingly huge. I wrested my stare up to his face and moved my hand to the paperwork in front of me to hide the incoming hard-on. “I have notes to do.”

He snorted. “Fuck that,” he said, just as dismissively as Trav. “Football’s the only thing you need, bro. That, and lifting.” He palmed a thick pec for a moment. “You can’t get huge from writing notes.” He grinned, but it melted into a worried frown. His hand dipped down to fondle his bulge. “Damn. I wanna fuck.”

The way he said it so casually caused my cock to instantly go rock-hard.

“Yeah, dude,” Trav said, patting the guy’s shoulder. “I know how you feel. You’ll get used to it.”

I blinked in surprise. Get used to it? “Uhm, how long have you been on the team?”

“Me?” the bald guy said. His forehead creased as he thought. “Must have few months back...?”

“So you’re a freshman?” I said, shocked.

“Erm...” His eyes went blank for a moment, but then his brow cleared and he smiled. “Fuck that. All that thinking is making me wanna tackle some guys on the field. Wanna join us?” He did not stop rubbing his bulge, though.

“Come on, dude,” Trav said, almost pleading.

The 180 the guy gave was puzzling. What was going on? “Sorry, guys, but—”

Trav gave an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, sure, notes,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Whatever, dude.” He easily picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, and he turned to the other guy. “Let’s go, bro.”

“He’s not coming?” the other said as they walked out of earshot. I couldn’t hear Trav’s response.

I gazed at my notes dazedly. He’s a freshman, and with that body to boot? I shook my head to clear out the implications, and I was about to continue to finish the notes when I noticed the jocks left something behind.

I picked it up from the floor. It was a silver fob chain bracelet with several small, featureless black medallions, and it reeked of a peculiar mass. Maybe it was steel instead of silver, I thought to myself, weighing the object in my hand. But it was odd: Why would a jock carry a charm bracelet?

“Still, I have to return it to the owner,” I said to myself, sighing. I really did not want to go, but I was sure that Trav would be wondering where it went. After making a few quick notations in the notebook, I packed up my things and went in the general direction of the field.


Part 2

One of the things you quickly learn when you are at the college is where the practice field is. You ask mostly anyone, and they will point you to the same direction.

The field was huge, the grass trampled down by the team’s practices and tackles. Nearby was a two-story, white-bricked structure. I looked around at the crowds of fans that were standing around the field and noticed a small table in front of the building. It was covered with stacks of papers, and it had a black banner over it saying ‘Recruting!’ in bold white letters. Behind the table, a jocks was sitting and chatting with various college students.

I went up to the table as the jock behind the table, a swarthy fellow, was finishing talking to a tall redhead.

“Yeah, we usually ask for guys who are enrolled in the school, so we unless you transfer, you can’t be part of the team. Sorry.” He noticed me coming over. “Hey dude, I remember you from the party. Thinking about becoming a part of the team?”

I shook my head and dug into my pocket to take the bracelet out. “Trav dropped this when he talked to me earlier. I’m just returning it.”

The guy raised an eyebrow at the offer, and a small smile hovered over his mouth. “Nah, bro, you should give that back to Trav. He’ll be here any minute.”

“You mean right now!” I felt a huge weight on my back and an arm around me, pulling me tight.

“Hey!” I squawked in protest, trying to move the arm.

“I knew you couldn’t resist coming over, bro!” Trav said, giving me a playful noogie. The arm let go, and I turned to find Trav grinning from ear to ear. “So, you want to join us?”

“Changed your mind, dude?” the bald guy asked right after. “Fuckin’ a, bro.”

I shook my head and held out the bracelet. “I just came to give this back to you.”

His eyebrows shot up for a moment, and he grinned. “That’s not mine, dude,” he said, and he turned to the other guy, who looked at the chain and shook his head. “Not mine, either.”

“Well it was left behind when you guys left,” I said, putting it back in my pocket. I felt oddly uncomfortable. If I didn’t know any better, I would say they were laughing at some inside joke. “At least I think so. Any idea who it belongs to?”

Trav shook his head. “Nah, dude.” His eyes went blank for a moment, as if he was remembering something, and grinned. “So, wanna be part of the team, bro?”

I was about to say something when the crowd cheered, and I turned to find the team coming out of the complex and onto the field, each one in skintight lycra that clung to their massive forms. They also had their helmets, black emblazoned with a stylized horse head. Just looking at the incoming wall of beef had me trying not to drool.

Trav must have noticed because he chuckled softly. “Are you sure you don’t want to join, dude?” he said. He stood next to me and waved a hand at the passing wave of jocks. “Imagine being around all that beef, bro. You wouldn’t get enough scenery.”

I blushed, embarrassed that someone found me out, and a jock to boot! “Uh...”

Trav laughed again. “It’s okay, bro. We don’t mind about that. Just as long as you’re a good teammate, everything else can go to hell.” He placed a massive arm around my shoulders and waved his hand towards the team, who were now on the field. “You can’t get enough of anything, really,” he continued. “Once you join, that is.” He gazed at his fellow teammates going through the plays, and his breathing got heavy. “Fuck.”

“Dude,” the guy behind the table said as he passed a few flyers around the other people, “you’re frightening him.”

Trav took a deep breath. “Yeah. Sorry about that, bro.” He grinned. “Seeing us play just gets me all riled up.” He gave me a back pat and went behind the table, the bald guy following him.

I noticed something else as I gazed at the team. “Where’s the coach?”


I looked at Trav. “Yeah.” I waved a hand at the field. “Where’s the coach? Why isn’t he calling the plays and stuff?” I stopped, confused for a moment. What did I say?

The jocks grinned as if I did a trick. “He’s gone home on an errand,” Trav said. “He left me in charge until he comes back,” he added.

“We know all of the plays by heart,” the swarthy jock said, “so it’s no big deal.”

“Yeah,” Trav said, looking towards the team and clearly distracted with the fieldwork. “Uhm, bro,” he said to the other guys. “We should get going. Get suited up and stuff. We can do this tomorrow.” He turned to me. “Want to help?”

Why I said yes I never knew, and I found myself with an overloaded box of papers while the others carried the table and banner. We went through the complex, and I tried not to gawk at the hallway of awards and trophies.

“Where are all these from?” I asked Trav.

“Previous games,” he said. He was carrying another box of papers. “We also have photos of past players from when they were playing and where they are now.”


He directed me to the main office to drop off the box, and left to the main room to suit up.

I entered the room, placed the box on a large wooden desk filled with other papers, and looked around. Photos of various football players from the NFL hung on the walls along with a shelf filled with books and knickknacks. At one side, a wide window replaced the wall, showing the changing room and lockers. And something else.

It was Trav and the bald guy, deep in the throes of sex.

They were on one of the benches, dressed only in their shoes. Trav was lying down, his legs widely spread. The other guy was on top of him, hugging him tightly as his hips pistoning deeply against Trav’s. Deep animalistic moans of pleasure issued from the duo.

I stared slack-jawed for a moment before I noticed that the table and banner were tossed on the floor. No sign of their clothing; though, but that didn’t change anything. I just focused on their rutting.

“Quite a show they’re putting on, hm?”

I freaked out for a moment, and I turned around to meet a ferociously built man coming out from a back door. He was in a skin-tight white tank and black polyester shorts that strained against a heavy bulge. His grizzled face did not show any anger or puzzlement at the two in the locker room. Only a lustful grin.

“Ah, you must be the new recruit,” the man said, extending a heavy hand. “The coach.”

It struck me as odd that he didn’t give a name, just the title. I reached over and shook the hand firmly. “I’m not actually a recruit, though.”

The coach snorted. “Nonsense. Anyone who comes in here is either a player or a recruit. I take it they invited you?” He waved aside my sputtering. “Of course they did. I have to reward them for that, I think.”

At that moment, I heard the two roar like bulls in heat. I turned to find them locked in a tighter embrace, their juices seeping and dripping everywhere as they went into orgasmic pleasure. My throat went dry as I saw them so deep in masculine bliss.

“Fuck,” the coach growled. “I love it when they do that. Does me proud.”

A few minutes later, they separated, their muscles pumped and their giant cocks rock hard. They came into the office, stinking of their maleness.

“Hey coach,” Trav said. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

“Yeah,” the other said. “I would have offered my ass if I knew you’d be here.” He eyed the polyester-wrapped bulge and licked his lips. “Can’t get enough of your cock, sir.”

“You’ll get it later, son,” the coach said. “But right now, we need to get the others here.” He glanced at me. “Tell them we have a new recruit for our team.”


Part 3

“Now wait,” I said, surprised at the announcement, “I just came in here to help these two carry stuff in.” I looked at Trav and the other, their muscles all pumped and their cocks dripping heavy drops of pre. I tore my gaze away and looked at the coach.

The coach snorted. “Fuck that, kid,” he said. “You got the bracelet, right?”

The bracelet! I forgot all about it; I pulled it out.

“NOW!” the coach barked.

“What—” I choked out as the two grabbed me tight and pulled me to the locker room. “What the hell!” I said, struggling futilely against their grip.

“We still need the others to come in here,” the coach said, following after. He gestured to an empty wall, and the duo pushed me there. I felt something slithering around my wrists and ankles, preventing me to leave.

“Well done, guys,” the coach said. He looked at Trev and jerked his head towards the exit.

“Got it, coach,” he said, turning around and walking out. I noticed he was in a football jersey and leggings. How did that happen?

“Now, kid,” the coach said, sitting down on a bench, “you have to understand. They invited you in because we want you to play. There’s nothing about it. Once you’re one of us, you’ll understand.”

“Yeah, dude,” the other guy said. He stood a foot away from the coach. “You won’t get enough of it. Fuck.” He started to rub his leaking cock with both hands.

“Stop that, son,” the coach chided. ”Wait until the others are here.”

“S-sorry coach,” the guy panted, still rubbing against his hands. “I just can’t stop…”

“Yes yes,” he said, getting up and pulling the hands aside. He went down on his knees and enveloped almost half that huge organ with his mouth.

The jock moaned loudly and shook as he climaxed, shoving his load into the coach’s mouth, which he swallowed greedily. The jock placed both of his hands on the coach’s head and shoved all of his cock in, moaning louder.

I was too enthralled at the sight of this alpha coach guzzling down one of his players to struggle. I just looked on until the scene played out: the jock pulling out as the coach licked his lips, stood back up, and looked at me.

“You liked that, son?” he asked. He gripped a shoulder of the player and started to rub the still-hard cock, causing the poor goon to moan and writhe. “Imagine what he’s feeling right now.” He grinned and turned to face the jock. “You like this, don’t you?”

“Fuuuuck,” the horny jock groaned out, spitting pre.

The coach chuckled. “I thought so.” He rubbed the cock more. “Say that you’re a big, dumb jock.”

The guy groaned. “Yeah…’m a big dumb jock,” he said. He raised an arm and flexed it hard, showing off a softball of thick bicep. “Look how big I am, sir. Fuck. So fuckin’ huge, sir. Awfuck!” He shuddered as he came again, his cock spitting out thick streams of his jockcum.

“That’s it, kid,” the coach said, giving the arm a solid grope as he kept on masturbating the jock. “Show him what he’ll be in a while.” He glanced at me and grinned. “In fact, I’ll give you a small sample.” He gestured.

I suddenly felt something burning around my hand. I looked down and saw two things: the chain, somehow around my wrist and writhing on its own, and a thick black binding that somehow attached itself around my elbow. The pain intensified, causing me to cry out.

The coach gestured again, and the pain stopped, leaving a dull ache behind. “You think of leaving, kid. Understandable.” He stepped to me and rubbed my wrist. I felt something ooze around my hand and crawling up the arm. “They usually change their minds after I am through with them. There.” He stepped back. “How do you like that?”

I looked down at my arm. Was it my arm? It was so huge and thick: almost as big as Trav’s. I saw it rise up on its own and flex hugely, a football mass of rock hard beef attached to a ham hock of a veiny forearm, all heavily tattooed in green and blue tribal swirls. “What the hell?”

The coach and jock chuckled. “You like that, kid?” the coach said. He twitched his hand, and the arm reached down to squeeze my cock into hardness. “Yeah, that’s it.” He turned to face the jock. “Damn, you’re hot, son,” he grunted out before pushing the guy’s face to his, making out for a moment.

“T-thank you, sir,” the jock said when they separated. He looked down at his cock, now softening into an impressive member. “Fuck.”

I moaned, feeling that heavy hand playfully rub and grope my cock against the fabric. I felt it slowly undo my pants and dig into my underwear, rubbing and teasing with a rough hand. “Awfuck…”

The coach walked up to me. “See, son, you can’t resist it. No one can. And for this to continue, we need on you on the team.” He patted my shoulder. “I should explain this before you join us. Kirk, come over here.”

The jock obediently walked in front of me, stinking of male.

The coach snapped his fingers, and the figure dissolved—turning darker and solidifying into a shiny black vinyl statue. The size and the musculature stayed the same, but the face was featureless, save a set of white markings that reminded me of a football helmet. What was going on?

“Son, how do you feel?” the coach said, eying the statue.

“Horny,” the figure said without moving its jaw, the word dripping with sexual power and masculinity. “So horny.” It flexed an arm, and the head started to nuzzle it, moaning softly as it caressed the heavy muscle.

“You see,” the coach said as the figure nuzzled, “we’re not like other creatures here on this world. We came here decades ago, trying to find a place to fit in.”

“W-what do you mean?” I asked between moans.

The coach paused in thought for a moment. “Imagine a creature capable of taking over a world, changing its hosts into anything it wants. Imagine it wanting asylum because of it knew what it could be used for. Imagine the creature finding such a place by accident and finding various reasons to stay.”

He gently rubbed the figure’s thick chest. “Imagine it succumbing to the lusts that the planet’s inhabitants had. Such lusts, such manly pleasures it found. Thick muscles, heavy cocks, pliable asses. Imagine it wanting more.”

I felt the hand rub more, edging down to rub my balls and the sensitive flesh behind it. I groaned.

The coach kept on rubbing the figure’s muscles, who kept on moaning and grunting. “Imagine it able to spread, like seeds, wanting to go to other places and explore more of the pleasures it kept craving. Imagine one of those seeds finding a small school and discovering a certain sport played there. Imagine the seed, one day, fusing with a faculty member who leads the sport team. Think of the promises the seed gave to the person.” He smiled, and he reached down to the figure’s heavy cock, giving the organ a heavy squeeze. The figure threw his head back and deeply moaned. “Now, ten years later, the team is the best in the area. Thanks to us, that is.

“Of course, the person the seed attached itself to no longer exists. He succumbed to the lusts the seed desired, and they fused to form me.” He turned to face me and his form shifted, showing a shiny black creature with white markings around its shoulders and two on the head like eyes. “The seed passed down its ability to make new seeds, so it thought to itself why not make more of itself as a team.” The head split into a toothy grin. “And so it did.”

There was a small commotion at the far end, and Travis entered the locker room, the team following him. He grinned when he saw the two, and I could swear that his heavy bulge twitched in its black confines.

“Finally, my sons,” the coach-figure said. He gestured towards me. “It’s time.”


Part 4

“All right you lot,” the coach-figure said. “You know what to do.”

The team cheered as they peeled their shirts and leggings off. Soon they were all naked; each stud could have easily won top prize in a bodybuilding competition, with erect cocks to make a team of stallions green with envy.

I felt the hand rub and squeeze my cock, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I shot hard, the pleasure overwhelming my fear. The team cheered louder.

“That’s the spirit, son,” the coach said. He gestured to the rest of the team. “Well? Come on now!”

Trav stepped up, still dressed. He pulled the arm away and groped the thick muscle. “Fuck, dude,” he breathed. “You’re gonna be bigger than me, bro.” His form—clothing and all—fell away to a shiny black figure embossed with white and gold swirls, his massive dick erect and drooling. “We welcome you, brother,” he said.

Slowly, the rest of the team shifted to their other forms, each one repeating Trav’s words. I looked around the room; all of them were glossy black and with swirled with various colors, their dicks rock hard. A few were making out with their teammates as others were openly stroking themselves. All of them were waiting for something.

That something was the coach. He was fully erect, the cock almost as big as my forearm and thicker than a jar of sauce. He was thrusting it against his hands, grunting with pent up need. I then realized it was aimed straight at me.

“We welcome you, son,” he growled out before he threw his head back and roared in pleasure, his cock spitting out a heavy stream of black fluid that splashed against my torso. Another two ropes coated my midriff and legs.

I was too shocked to react. It all happened so fast. I was about to yell out when another rope hit me on the face, between the eyes.

I blindly struggled against the bindings, trying to get out and away from this mad scene. I felt a hand rub my chest and realized it was the other hand.

“Fuck,” I heard the coach growl. “We needed that.” He reached over, slapping the hand away and rubbing his essence over me. “Give in, son. Come on, now.”

I tried to shake the hand away. “Let me go!” I blinked quickly, the slime slowly oozing down my face. I pleaded. “Please, I don’t want to be part of this!”

Everyone laughed. One of them spoke up. “Don’t worry, bro. We all know how you feel.”

Another said, “We thought we didn’t want to be this big or this horny. But damn…” he flexed hugely, “…we wouldn’t have it any other way. Right, brothers?” There were murmurs of agreement.

Trav leaned over and gave me a hungry kiss. I could feel his tongue snaking down my throat as he pressed his mouth against mine. I involuntarily moaned, leaning forward to kiss harder, and he complied. I felt his hand grope my still-hard dick.

I heard myself whine after we separated. “Come on, dude,” I begged. “Let me go, please.”

The coach shook his head. “Sorry, son, it is already too late. It has been already decided.” He gestured.

The slime stopped oozing down, slowly traveled upwards and spread over my face and head like it was slick oil. The sensation soon spread all over my body. I tried to get away, but it was as if I was encased in cement.

All the while, the coach looked at me, nodding. “So far, so good,” he said a few minutes later, shifting back to his previous form. A smirk hovered over his mouth, and he turned to the team. “How does he look?” Everyone cheered.

The feeling of immobility lessened, and my struggles slackened a bit. Something was squeezing my face, causing my vision to turn blurry for a moment. “What’s going on…?”

The coach gestured with a hand, a turning around motion, and I felt myself released from the wall. I took a few steps out and turned around, seeing the wall turn into a full-length mirror.

“Holy fuck,” I said, seeing myself. My new self.

I was huge. Massive. Easily an equal with anyone in the team. The bulk stretched my shirt, showing off every rippling sinew. The jeans were equally tight, giving everyone a good view of my thick rump and a heavy bulge that tested the zipper.

I looked up and saw that my face also changed, giving a chiseled profile far better than the face I wore before. A thick ring pierced my septum and a set of rings cascaded across my left ear. A green-blue swirl climbed up around the neck like hands and across my shaved scalp.

“You like, son?” the coach asked.

I was so enthralled by the new me that I forgot that I was supposed to be escaping. “I—”

“Let me show you what else we can offer you.” He gestured, and the clothing melted into skin, showing off a body of such masculine proportions that it left me speechless. Muscles crowded against each other with every movement. My entire body was covered by green and blue swirls edged in black, partially covered by a great furry pelt that covered my chest and narrowed down into a heavy trail that led to my cock.

My eyes widened as I saw that thick slab with a set of baseball-sized balls, and I reached gingerly to grab my new cock. My hand barely wrapped around it, and a thick drop of pre oozed out to the floor. I moaned softly as the grip tightened.

The coach laughed softly. “Looks like you are enjoying it.” He stepped behind me and placed a hand on my scalp. “Let’s raise it up a notch.”

I shuddered as I felt something prickle through my skull and settle into my brain. I would have collapsed if the coach didn’t prop me up. “What…” I felt that feeling again, this time far more pleasurable, and I huffed out a breath. “…the fuck…”

I looked at my reflection again, at my hand gripping my cock, and a smirk crossed my mouth. I was a fucking huge jock. Fuckin’ a! I reached over to grip a thick chest nub and gave it a pull. A wave of pleasure crashed into my mind. I moaned deeply.

“There we go, son,” the coach said, removing his grip. I noticed thick black strands pulling away and snapping from his hand, but I gave it a passing thought. “Enjoying it?”

“Fuck yeah, coach,” I said, groping myself, feeling the pleasure slowly ramp up.

He walked in front of me, eying me like a prime bull. He gestured, and like a puppeteer pulling strings, I released my grip and lifted my arms into a double-bi pose. The rest of the team cheered as they saw this muscled jock showing off.

“Hm,” the coach said, rubbing my thick pelt. “Needs something.” He gripped my chest nubs and pulled hard. I groaned in a mix of pleasure and pain. “There we go,” he said stepping away. I looked in surprise at the new chest piercings, just as heavy as my nose ring. I reached over to pull one and snorted in deep pleasure. My cock twitched and started to ooze out a heavier river of pre.

“Time to finish this,” he continued, and he knelt. He grabbed my thick cock and started to suck.

The pleasure rose to insane levels; I could feel my mind start to sizzle as he went on to deep throat my cock.

I felt my brain prickle again, and then I heard a voice in my head, a deep masculine growl. You want this, bro?

“Fuck...!” I groaned out, grabbing the coach’s head with both hands. I started to power fuck the brute’s mouth, forcing my cock down his throat to the hilt repeatedly. Didn’t faze him a bit; he only sucked harder.

Be with me, bro. Join the team.

I felt a sweet rumble in my balls, and I fucked all the harder. “Yeah. Fuck yeah.”

Ready, dude? Fuck yeah.

My vision unfocused as the orgasm overtook me. I closed my eyes, reveling in this incredible pleasure frying my brain. I felt my mouth open, panting, drooling, but I didn’t care. It just felt so fucking good, this feeling of overwhelming masculinity. I felt as if my balls would never empty, and that made me all the hornier.

Something warm and wet spread in front of my brain and tugged. Hard.

I roared in a mix of pleasure and pain, my mind suddenly flooding with images of football games, of the team’s plays, of all of the amazing victories and our crushing defeats. I knew about our history of our brotherhood and knew that nothing would make me leave.

Another hard tug, this time in the back, and my head was filled with a multitude of voices, a good number of them egging me on to cum harder, to give Coach all of my seed. I heard other voices groaning, sharing my orgasmic pleasure. Others still welcoming me.

And in the middle of that crowd, I heard the call of my master. My coach.

I felt the orgasm slacken into mere dribbles, and I let go of Coach’s head. I took a step back, pulling out my cock, rock hard and primed for another heavy session of sex. I looked myself in the mirror and flexed hugely, my tattoos accentuating the bulk. “Fuck, coach. That was fucking incredible.” If I noticed that my voice deepened to a growl, I didn’t show it. Instead, I turned to see him already standing up, grinning hugely. “Can I get your ass next time?”

Coach smirked. “Later,” he said. “Right now, time to get you ready.”

I nodded, feeling my torso slowly being enveloped by tight black spandex. I grunted as I felt the cloth squeezed my softening cock into a massive bulge rivaling Coach’s, framing my ass into a jock. “Fuck yeah, coach. Tell me what to do, and I’ll be there.” I turned to face the team, who were in the throes of deep pleasure. Almost all of them were fucking or sucking off each other. I huffed out a breath. “Fuck, coach…”

“Want to join them, son?”

I groped my bulge, feeling my lust ramp up. “Fuck yeah.”

“Assume the position, then.”

The movement came instinctively. I bent into a three-point stance, squatting wide and deep.

“Alright you lot,” he yelled. “Get yourselves to ready our new brother on the field!”

The team cheered, separating and shifting back to their pumped and primed jock forms. Trav stepped up, showing off a fully cowled and heavily veined cock.

“Suck,” he growled out, shoving it in my mouth.

I obeyed greedily, wanting that sweet cum. I felt another thick cock slide into my ass, and I moaned deeply. I heard Trav grunt, then my mouth was filled with his cream. A moment after, my ass was also filled. Their groans filled the air.

I barely had a moment to swallow Trav’s load when they withdrew, and two other studs took their place, using me as a cum bucket. I enjoyed every moment of the team welcoming me.

When my brothers were spent, I got up and palmed my bulge. I felt that rumble in my balls again, that need to fuck, to dominate, but Coach had other plans.

“Alright, we’re done here. Let’s get some plays in.” He clapped his hands once. “Time to suit up.”

The motion came easily as breathing. My clothing shifted to a black jersey and lace-up pants. Emblazoned in the front was a large number ‘20’ and the name “Baker” above it.

I gazed at the jersey with a bit of puzzlement. Was that my name? I tried to remember, but my mind was fuzzy. It was so hard to remember being anything else other than a hyper-male football jock. Instead, I raised an arm and flexed, already distracted with how fuckin’ huge I was.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned to find Trav already suited. “C’mon, bro, let’s go.”

I smirked, ready for some action on the field. “Lead the way, dude.”

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