Here is the first half of Chapter 4. A scene between Josh Ryder and Bates is coming soon.
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Becoming a Rugby Bitch, Part 4a
Cosmic Charlie - cosmic709@yahoo.com
cceroticstories.blogspot.com
charliessmut.tumblr.com
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Adam Bates was nearly overcome with excitement as he walked into Josh Ryder's dorm. For the past few days, the coach had been keeping the boy to himself. No doubt seeding his ass with more cum than Bates could imagine. As promised, Coach Perry had finally turned Ryder over to Bates for some fun with the one condition that the boy's ass was off limits. Bates didn't mind. Girls had assholes too, and they were usually just as tight, but it was rare that to find a girl who would gag on his cock and suck his nuts like a submissive fag would. Ryder's mouth was all he needed.
As he walked through the halls, Bates' dick stiffened up a little. Desire, lust, and aggression flowed through his veins. It was a different feeling. Bates had absolutely no sexual feeling for most of the fags who served them. His relationship with them was more like a business transaction. With Ryder, things were different, because Ryder was a jock like him. He wasn't a worthless fag to be pitied, but a man that needed to be taken down and made to submit. When Bates was with Ryder, he felt like he was a warrior on the battlefield – conquering and fucking.
When he got to Ryder's door, Bates texted the coach to tell him where he was. Moments later, on the other side of the door, Ryder received a message from the coach instructing him to do whatever Bates wanted.
Bates banged on the door, and Ryder answered. "Ready fa . ." Bates saw Ryder's roommate Conor and decided to spare Ryder this one humiliation. "Ready Josh?" he said instead.
"Um . . . I was studying." Ryder said.
"You must have forgotten that we're hanging out tonight. Let's go." Bates said.
Ryder looked back into the room, thinking that there was something he needed to do. Bates put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him into the hallway. He clamped his bicep down hard around Ryder's neck and dragged him away. To Ryder's roommate it looked like nothing more than joking around between teammates, and Ryder waved goodbye.
They walked back to Bates' car in silence. When they got in, Bates tossed him a bag. "Take off your clothes and put on these instead." Ryder opened the bag. The smell of sweat, body odor, and maleness rose out of it.
"My gym clothes." Bates said. "I thought you'd like it."
Ryder stripped off his own clothes and began to redress himself. There wasn't any underwear in the bag, and he was forced to go commando in a pair of thin cotton workout shorts. The t-shirt was pitted out and stunk of body odor. Ryder's dick was hard with anticipation.
"Just think, fag, your dick is touching where my dick touched. My body is all over you." Bates said, "Does it get you hot?"
"Yes sir,"
"Play with yourself." Bates commanded.
"Yes sir." Ryder stroked his dick through the fabric. Within minutes precum started to drool out of his cock, darkening the front of the material. He did this for about five minutes until Bates stopped the car in front of a drug store.
"Go in and get me some condoms." Bates said.
Ryder glanced down at his visible boner and hesitated.
"Now, fag, or you'll do it without the shorts." Bates said harshly.
Ryder jumped out of the car and walked into the store. Bates waited until Ryder walked back out. The boy's cock was still hard if not harder. He handed Bates the condoms.
"I need the big one's, idiot." Bates said. "Go back in there and tell the person at the counter that your man needs bigger condoms. Ask them where you can find them."
Ryder he looked at Bates and pleaded, "Please . . ."
Bates ignored him. "Get your dick good and hard again before you go back in."
When Ryder struggled to get himself hard, Bates grabbed his nipple and roughly twisted it while rubbing his chest. Just the feeling of Bates' hand on his body was enough to get Ryder hard and dripping again. Bates removed his hand, and Ryder got back out of the car. When he came back moments later, he was red-faced with embarrassment.
"Why are you still hard, fag?" Bates asked.
"I don't know." Ryder said.
"That's not a good answer. Do you want to go back in and make another exchange?"
"No sir. I guess I like it. The excitement and embarrassment turns me on. I don't know why."
"Remember that next time. Remember that you like it when I make you do these things." Bates said.
As they drove to Bates' house, Bates explained that he wanted his laundry done and the kitchen cleaned. If Ryder did a good job, he might get to swing from Bates' cock later on. While he was cleaning, he wasn't supposed to speak to Bates' roommates unless they asked him a direct question. He was to do what they said or face the consequences.
When they walked in four men, all as large as Bates, sat around the TV while two of them played a video game. They barely glanced at Bates or Ryder as they walked through the room. They were all dressed in shorts and white t-shirts. Two of the men were black, and Ryder thought he'd seen them around the athletes' gym. The other guys were white with close cut brown hair. Each of them was yoked, with thick muscles stretching across their chests, and over their shoulders and massive thighs.
"In here, fag." Bates said as they walked into the dining room. "And wipe the fucking drool off your chin. Christ, you think my bros like getting undressed by you? Show some respect."
"Sorry, sir." Ryder quickly responded.
"Before I put you to work, I want to show you something." Bates said, "I don't want you to think that I despise you, Josh, because I don't. I just see you for what you are. I'm sure you're brain is really confused lately, but you're lucky. You could have ended up as pathetic, miserable fag trash."
Bates opened the door to the bathroom. Kneeling on the floor, next to the toilet, was an older man. He had some kind of funnel strapped to his mouth, and the word urinal was written in black marker on his forehead. There was a toothbrush in his hand and every inch of the bathroom was shiny and clean. He'd been busy.
"Have my bros been quenching your thirst, fag?" Bates said.
The guy nodded. Bates turned to Ryder, "Recognize him?"
Ryder looked more closely and recognized his English professor. A grin broke out across his face, even though he was a little embarrassed for the man.
"This fuck-tard was drooling for my dick, so I decided to make him work for it." Bates said.
Bates had gone to Professor Johnson's office almost two weeks ago in order to clear up a cheating incident. Thinking that the Professor might be a hard catch, Bates had done his best to get ready for the guy - to turn himself into a real piece of fag bait. He'd run on the treadmill to work up a sweat, put on a flimsy pair of shorts with no underwear, and worn a shirt that showed off every twitch of his pecs and shoulders. Before he walked in, he'd rubbed his cock to chub up a little and show off his package.
The professor had put up a decent fight. Bates rated it about average in terms of "straight" fags in mid-life denial. Eventually he fell to his knees. Just thinking about it Bates got a little hard again. He'd delivered one of the most vicious throat-fuckings of his young life, and the professor ate it up. The next day he was begging for another go.
On that first day, when the professor finally submitted and fell to his knees, Bates had grabbed the guy's skull and pushed it roughly into his crotch. He held him there for a couple of minutes. It was a trick that coach Perry had taught him which had helped him solidify his game. Early on, teasing the fags was ineffective. They eventually spooked and ran, mostly because they thought that they would never get what they wanted. Instead, you had to give them a taste, the feel of a man's dick against their face and the smell of a ripe crotch, to show them what they were after. Once they knew what the prize was, they would chase it for weeks or months. That's when the tease, the part that Bates loved, began.
At first the professor had actually tried to pull away, but his strength was nothing compared to Bates'. After about thirty seconds, he stopped resisting, and a minute later he was moaning and grinding his forehead into Bates' moist crotch. The noise of his breathing was loud, and it disgusted Bates.
Bates pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures before pulling the professor's head away. "You know, you're fucking pathetic. You spend your whole life building up a lie and then the minute you get a whiff of dick, sweaty, nasty dick, you toss it all away."
Bates slapped the guy across the face, and he fell down. When he got back to his knees, the professor looked terrified. Bates wondered whether he could get the guy to piss his pants. That would be a new low for him. He pulled his hand back in preparation for another smack. The professor put up his hands and flinched. Bates laughed and backed down.
"You fucking deserve it. You deserve to have your ass beaten. What do you think your kids would say if they saw you now, a miserable fag crawling around on the floor for jock dick. Too much of a chicken to own up to the fact that he's gay, so he just pushes it all down inside and lets it fester. Is that what you are?"
"Yes," the professor said.
"What are you?" Bates spat back.
"I'm a miserable closet case. I need to serve you and your cock, sir." he said.
"What do you deserve?" Bates said.
The professor looked at him quizzically.
"Do you deserve a beating or a chance at a man's dick?"
"A beating." the professor said.
Bates slapped him hard again. His cock throbbed in his pants. In moments like these, sexuality and violence were intimately linked for Bates. Nothing gave him a hard-on like dusting a guy on the rugby pitch. In fact, if it wasn't for sports, his need to be violent would have likely gotten him in trouble. As the professor came back up to his knees, now visibly shaking, Bates realized that his energy had to be released one way or the other. He decided to take the path that wouldn't land him in a jail cell.
"You deserve a beating, but one thing you'll learn about me is that I take care of my fags. So just this once, I'm not going to give you what you deserve, but what you want instead." Bates said.
The professor's face contorted as he tried to puzzle out Bates' next move. No doubt he thought that Bates was playing games with him, trying to trick him into a misstep so that he could slap him again, or worse.
"Show me your balls." Bates said.
The professor immediately opened up his chinos and pulled out his nuts. Bates repressed the urge to kick the professor in the nads.
"Look at your little balls, then look at mine." Bates said.
He lifted the leg of his shorts and let his bull balls tumble out. Each the size of a chicken egg, they hung so low that he had to be careful when he wore boxer shorts. His dad had once called them his inheritance. His father had sired three boys with nuts like these, all of them stallions in their own right. Bates would go to stud eventually, but until then he would use these balls to make money, assert his place in the world, and remind pathetic fags like Prof. Johnson just how low they were on the food chain.
"Bet you'd like to lick them, wouldn't you?" Bates said.
The professor nodded pathetically, the bald spot on his head shining under the florescent lighting.
"Too bad. For now, you can just think of all the cum churning around in these nuts. If you do a good job today, some of it might be in you."
When he heard this the Professor's demeanor visibly changed. No longer fearing that Bates was going to pound him, he was eager to have his sexual fantasies fulfilled.
"Have you ever sucked a cock before?" Bates asked.
The professor shook his head no.
"Oh." Bates said, "Well . . . then this is probably going to be kind of rough on you."
Bates dropped his shorts. His hard cock, eight and a half inches long and thick as they come, bounced in front of him. He palmed the back of the professor's head and pulled him forward. As soon as his lips touched the tip of Bates' dick, the professor started to gently suck it, nursing the glans. Bates let out a long sigh as the warm mouth enveloped his cock.
"Sorry, but guys like me don't make love to our fags. We fuck them." Bates said.
He thrust his dick forward. The professor gagged as the head of Bates' dick hit the back of his throat. He coughed up the cock, slobbering all over himself as he did. Bates felt his teeth scrape against the bottom of his shaft, and he backhanded the guy just hard enough to remind him not to do it again.
"I get that you're probably not going to be able to deep-throat me on your first try, but if I feel your teeth again I'll knock them out." he said.
Bates grabbed onto the older man's ears and pushed in again. Again the professor coughed and sputtered, but Bates didn't let him push his dick out of his mouth. Instead, he pulled back just enough to let the guy catch his breath.
"Keep sucking," he growled.
The professor's lips wrapped around his dickhead, and Bates started to fuck his face again. He never got more than half of his shaft into the guy, but the sloppy, wet mouth felt good on his dick. As he got hornier and closer, he started to smack the professor's face as he sucked. He added his spit to the slime that coated his chin, spitting on the old guy's nose and into his eyes. About once every thirty-seconds, he would push forward as hard as he could and attempt to enter the professor's throat. Each time, Johnson would sputter and spit, tears running down his eyes. His hands would push back against Bates' thighs, but he was far too weak to move the young stud. Bates didn't give up.
"Open your throat, fag." he said.
Again he pushed forward. This time, he held the professor's head down, as his cheeks bulged and his throat contracted. His eyes were red, and he looked like he was either going to pass out or puke. Afraid that he'd get puked on, Bates let him up.
"You think the people in the hallway can hear you choking on my dick, fag?" Bates asked.
He let Johnson nurse on his cock for a few minutes and even let him run his hands up the back of his legs and feel his ass. It was important that Johnson didn't feel totally used. That came later. When he felt ready to orgasm, Bates shoved his dick back into the Professor's mouth.
"There you go, fag, fucking choke on my seed." he sneered. He shoved his dick in as far as he could. The professor's whole body convulsed, but Bates didn't let him up for air. His orgasm ripped through him, but he maintained his control. Silently letting his dick expel ropes of cum while waves of pleasure worked through his body. He shoved forward again, and when the professor choked, Bates let him cough his still pulsing dick out. The last ropes of semen blasted onto the professor's nose and onto his lips. Spit, phlegm, and cum ran down his cheeks. Bates pulled out his phone and took a picture of his handiwork. If the professor refused to play things the way Bates liked to play, his wife was going to see just how big of a fag her husband could be.
The Professor looked up at him, breathing hard, his wide eyes full of desire. Bates was amazed that these fags always seemed to think that he was going to kiss them or something, but that wasn't his game. He left the kissing to gay dudes like Coach Perry.
"Give me your wallet." Bates said.
"Why?" Professor Johnson asked.
Bates pulled back his hand and the professor winced. He brought it down fast but pulled it away at the last moment.
"Fuck, you're covered with dick slime." he said. He picked up a magazine from the desk, rolled it up, and smacked the professor across the back of the neck. He yelped a little when he got hit.
"Give me your wallet."
The professor handed it over, and Bates opened it up. Sixty-five dollars. He'd have to teach the professor a lesson about the price of doing business.
"What's your phone number?"
Johnson was going to ask why Bates needed it, but he noticed that Bates still had the magazine in his hand. He rattled off both his home number and his cell.
"Homework time, professor." Bates said. "There's a video store out on the edge of town where a fag like you'll have no trouble getting some dick. I want you to go out there during every free moment you have for the next three days. Tell every guy you meet that you need to learn how to deep throat a man's cock and tell them not to be gentle. You've got three days to be ready for me."
Bates didn't imagine that he would ever put his dick in the guy's mouth again. Even this one time was a fluke. His general policy was to keep the object of desire just out of a fag's reach. Still, he liked the idea of the professor choking on dozens of anonymous dicks.
Bates pulled on his shorts and left. After that day, the Professor had been shockingly compliant. Fags like him, Bates thought, were so desperate for dick that they'd do anything for it. Now he had the guy cleaning his bathrooms, drinking his piss, and paying him for the privilege. He looked down at Johnson, kneeling on the floor of his bathroom, before leaning over to take the funnel off of his head. At the last minute he stopped and looked over at Ryder.
"Piss on him." he told Ryder.
Ryder stared at him blankly.
"Do it." Bates said sternly. "I want you to piss on him."
Ryder unzipped and released a torrent of piss into the funnel. Bates directed him to get the fag good and wet, so he did it. It was a bizarre experience, and he didn't know how he felt about it. He liked making Bates happy though, and when Bates rubbed his shoulder and told him what a good boy he was, he boned up instantly. When he was finished, he tucked his hard cock back into his pants.
"You're done for today, fag." Bates said. "Pay up."
Ryder watched in awe as Professor Johnson handed Bates two one-hundred dollar bills. He found it hard to believe that a guy would pay to clean another man's house and get pissed on while he did it. After Johnson left, Bates turned to him, "I wanted you to see that. You need to see how lucky you are, Josh."
Bates' attitude had changed. He'd gone from domineering and sadistic to brotherly in a matter of minutes. "You can only deny that you want cock for so long. And the longer you repress it, the more it festers inside of you. Be happy that you're figuring it out before it rots out your insides.”
Ryder didn't know what to say. A part of him still denied that he liked what was happening, and a big part of him still wanted to run.
"That fag is going to hand me over a couple of thousand dollars and while he's doing it, he's going to be having the best time of his life. He'll actually be happy. Then the denial will set in and he'll run. He'll go back to his miserable pathetic existence. You might be a bitch at heart, Josh, a fag all the way through, but I don't think you're pathetic."
Bates sighed before he walked over and put the toilet seat down. He turned around with a big smile on his face and grabbed Ryder by the back of the neck. "OK, break time is over. Time to clean my kitchen you pathetic pussy."
If Bates had been trying to put Ryder at ease, it didn't work. Both the Coach and now Bates seemed to have two personalities. They were aggressive, domineering, and mean at one moment, making him crawl around on the floor and suck on their cocks. Then at other moments they seemed to care somewhat for him. The coach wanted him to feel safe before he fucked him. Ryder was sure of that. And Bates seemed to want to, what, make him feel proud of being a bitch.
It didn't make any sense, and with Bates at least, Ryder suspected that it might be the opening move in some kind of game. Get Ryder on the hook now so he could really fuck with him later.
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The second part of chapter 4 is coming soon. Hope you liked this one. If there's something you want to see in this story, let me know and I'll see what I can do. I've gotten lots of good ideas for the coming chapters. Thanks for reading. Charlie
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