Kicked by a Mule: Part Two There Can Be Only One

Kicked by a Mule:


A story very loosely based on the memoirs of "Mr. B"

Edited and enhanced by Mule and Stefan Kane, original art by Steve Reeves


(The story so far)

The social studies teacher Mr. B is thoroughly smitten by Mule and falls deeper and deeper under his influence and control. He becomes his accomplice in a number of adventures. See Part One.

PART TWO: THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE

Coach Chesnick makes Mule and I his Butt Monkeys.

Every athlete at the BF Christian High School
 got initiated by Coach Chesnick
at one time or another

One day I was driving Mule and some of his buddies who were on the Wrestling Squad over to the local Popeye's franchise when they began to complain how Coach Chesnick, while always a bully, had been of late escalating the physical and verbal abuse he had been heaping on the team, and had escalated to what they euphemistically described as sexual bullying.

"Let me show you how this hold is done, son.
I call this a 'Full Cock Nelson' and you will soon see why!"

" Bend over and assume the position, boys!!
This cock isn't going to fuck itself!"

Mule said: "I guess I will have to explain things to Coach Chesnick."-- as he cracked his knuckles and curled and uncurled his giant right hand into and out of a fist that reminded me of Thor's hammer Mjölnir. His buddies sported ear to ear grins in response to that news. Whatever the impossible situation his buddies found themselves in, they always relied on Mule to extract them.

Young Mule

Later Mule confessed to me, that he may have bitten off more than he could chew. “I wonder if I have written a check these muscles can’t cash! Coach Chesnick is friggin’ huge, you’ve seen him, I am not sure I can take him, whatever I promised. But I can’t back out of this now and look like a pussy!”

Coach Chesnick

I looked straight into his sad green eyes and felt my heart skip a beat. “Well the thing about big bullies like Chesnick, is that inside they are small, petty, cowardly, self-doubting men. Yes, the guy is a mountain of muscle, but when you are engaging an adversary in combat, the main foe is that craven mind and not his body. You may not be as big, but you are big enough, and with a steely mental determination and confidence, it is you who will have the edge.”


Mule looked at me with a look I had never seen from him, respect. “Good advice Mr. B.”, his face contorted in thought for a second, and then the usual goofy grin came out, and the respect for me in his eyes vanished like a mirage. He unzipped his fly, and I was once again on my knees serving my Master.

The next day after school, Mule stopped by to give me a heads up that he was going to have the showdown with Coach Chesnick. I nodded and told him good luck, and pretended to go back to my grading, but then surreptitiously followed him, eager to witness the unmanning of the Grappling Coach.

When I arrived, Mule already filled the archway of the door to Chesnick’s office. Mule had already stripped down to his underwear in preparation for battle. The Coach was busy with two young acolytes from the wrestling team, one working his tongue over the muscular cheeks and the anus of the naked muscular titan, the other’s tongue flicked over the big broad bulbous head of the hirsute He-man’s over-sized cock.

Chesnick looked up as he fell under Mule’s imposing shadow. 

"I think that's enough of your faggotry for today."--Coach said to the young men servicing him as he smiled mockingly, yet still handsomely. He rolled his hairy pecs and flex his lats a few times and the two freshmen began to moan as their teen bodies went into involuntary orgasm.  Coach smirked as he watched the delicious, aspiring,teenage athletes jerk and jerk their gym shorts into warm, moist repositories for their young cum. "Okay Ladies" --Chesnick then said with a sneer. "Hit the showers!"

Mule garbed in only his underwear swung like a massive barn door to let the two boys scurry out leaving drops of dribbling semen as they traveled. They each took the opportunity to scan Mule with appreciative and lascivious glances. I noticed Mule’s cock swell and push against the fabric of his underwear, as he grew excited by the thought of the coming confrontation. 

You could see its distinct outline as it pressed against the fabric. I found myself slowly stroking my own crotch through my khakis as I looked hypnotized on the hung, muscular Adonis who despite being 30 years my junior had become my Lord and Master. Chesnick moved out of my view from the angle I was at which I stood cowering behind a locker.

Mule always thought himself "big" until
he  first showered with Coach Chesnick,
Freshman year. 

From my vantage point it was as if Mule had taken center stage as Chesnick was eclipsed into the shadows of the room. Mule strode into the room with a sheer masculine determination that belied his youth. He shot a few poses determined to intimidate the coach before he got to his order of business. He did a few poses showing off not only powerful arms and shoulders but his quads to good effect. He did a double bicep, crab, and then reverse double biceps, while the unseen Chesnick cooed and said with heavy aspirated breath-“My, Mule you’ve grown…damn boy…whoah…oh yeah…yeah…yeah… I need you back on the team, the squad is just too heavily infiltrated by candy-assed fags!” I imagined that the Coach must have been involuntarily stroking himself just as I was, as we both admired the blond jacked magnificence that was Mule.


The coach then said with a derisive snort: “I am impressed…But I still got your pussy-ass beat in the muscle department, and the cock department!” He must have been giving a muscle display of his own, because Mule’s eyes seemed to pop out of his skull and his jaw grew slack. One could almost see the hearts circling his head as he must have experienced what I experienced every time Mule walked into view. His cock certainly swelled and pushed up from under the band of his tighty whities.


After a moment, Mule snapped out of the fog, and got down to business. “I don’t like the way you have been treating the wrestling squad…the physical, verbal and sexual abuse has got to stop now! You slammed Mike Reynolds down on the mat so hard yesterday, you loosened two of his teeth! Shit’s got to stop!!!”

The deep base voice of Chesnick let out a guffaw and he sneered: “Does it now? Did some of those frootloops come crying to the big bad Mule? Am I riding these pansies too hard? If the lot of them weren’t a bunch of limp-wristed nancyboys, I wouldn’t have to push them so hard! From the way they all so fervently ride my cock- I wouldn’t think those poofs had any cause to complain—maybe they want more of my big horse dick! I bet you want it too?” Huh Mule? I can see that you do!” From the hungry expression on Mule’s face, I suspected that Coach was playing with his own cock, deflecting the blond jock from the purpose of his visit.

But Mule again was distracted only for a moment. “I am not going to let it continue!”—he growled. “I challenge you to a wrestling match, if I win, things are going to be VERY DIFFERENT around here.”


Chesnick let loose a bellowing laugh: “and if I win, you are going to rejoin my Wrestling squad as well as the ranks of my jock-sniffers.”


Chesnick threw a large white towel at Mule, and donned one of his own and they wrapped them around themselves, and they proceeded on to the gym and the mats. They got in Grappler’s stances, sizing each other up, both of them looked formidable. I joined the two freshman, who had been servicing Coach earlier, up in the bleachers as we followed the opponents curious as to what the outcome of this match would be.


There was a period of testing, feinted attacks and failed holds, as each began tentatively, trying to gain the mettle of the other. Coach managed the first successful take down, but Mule eluded the attempted power half nelson, and scrambled back from Chesnick and back on to his feet.

Chesnick continued to hold the initiative, and I feared that Mule might be losing confidence in himself as he employed a mostly defensive strategy. Chesnick began showing that he was a dirty combatant, with elbow thrusts to the face and kidney punches thrown. This angered Mule and with a strength born of fury, grabbed Coach’s left arm and swung him off the mat into the gym wall with a thud.

Coach kicked himself away from the wall and took two slow steps forward. Tilting his head to the right, his eyes holding Mule’s gaze in locked intensity, he reached down with his right hand and tugged free the towel from around his waist. The two freshmen I was sitting with roared with approval and applauded as Coach draped the towel over his left shoulder. His uncut cock swung like a pendulum between his legs, already 9 inches long and impressively thick even while still completely flaccid. The closely cropped hair extending down his abdomen filled out into thick dark curls around the base of his crotch. The three of us in the bleachers released a simultaneous and audible gasp. Giving our trio a quick guarded glance, he bounced the hairy shelves of his pecs which he proceeded to dance. The freshmen, despite their compelling desire for a Mule victory that would end the Coach’s tyranny, roared with approval and applauded the Coach as he cut a most striking figure of masculine perfection. I confess I was overwhelmed by desire for this muscular God and treacherously began stroking myself, this time NOT thinking at all about Mule.

“You fucked with the wrong student!” Mule growled. “I can pull shit too, you know!”

“If that’s the way you want it to play it!” --Coach barked, “You have yet to be fucked with boy, because let’s just see who gets fucked tonight when I have you bent over my desk!”


“No!” Mule gasped with a look of shock, which made me think that this image was now in seared into his young brain and from his hesitancy was playing havoc with his confidence. Coach seeing the initiative swing back to him, closed the distance between them with two quick steps. Mule was caught flat-footed as Coach quickly wrapped his thickly muscled arms around Mule’s waist, lifted him off his feet, and turned, slamming Mule to his back.

Coach immediately began working his advantage. He slid his hips upward, sitting squarely across Mule’s lower abdomen. Leaning forward, he pinned the young hunk’s wrists to the mat next to his head, using his weight advantage to lock Mule in place. Mule bridged his hips off the mat a few inches. Coach grapevined his legs around his young opponent’s legs and swiveled his hips, rubbing his cock across Mule’s lower abdomen.

Mule’s hips dropped to the mat with a slap. “Fuck!” the young star snapped in frustration.

“Slow down, little boy,” Coach snarled. “Let’s have a little fun before I start fucking you.”

Desperation washed over Mule’s face. He squirmed in a panic underneath Coach’s body, struggling to free his arms.

The coach immediately began working his advantage!

I found myself stroking harder, my cock voting its approval of Chesnick’s success. Perhaps a part of me wanted revenge and karmic justice for Mule’s ‘special project’, perhaps it was the sheer animal magnetism exuded by the Grappling coach, I couldn’t say. These thoughts stemmed from a primitive illogical portion of my brain-from deep in the cerebrum, the legacy of primitive primordial ancestors, it could not be reasoned with, even though a small voice in my cerebellum argued that Chesnick was a total a-hole, and Mule the love of my life.


Coach slid forward slowly, rubbing his growing cock up Mule’s smooth, six-pack abs. His face hovering directly over Mule’s face, and he smiled down. “How do you like it, boy? How about doggie style?”

"...How do you like it, Mule?"

A titter of laughter rose guiltily from the two freshmen. Coach leaned forward further, lowering his face. Mule heaved his hips upward desperately, lifting Coach. The brute opened his mouth wide and dragged his tongue slowly across Mule’s right cheek. Mule grimaced, jerked his face away, and swiveled his hips, suddenly freeing his legs from Coach’s grapevine. Arching his lower back and twisting to the right, the young hunk shifted his opponent’s weight, sending Coach sliding to his side. Swiftly, Mule pressed upward with his arms and rolled over on top of his opponent. Slamming Coach’s wrists to the mat next to his head, Mule straddled the bully’s lower abdomen.

Coach chuckled, “Baby boy’s got some fight in him, eh? Make me work for it, kid; that’s the way I like it.” The older grappler began to press upward with his arms, slowly lifting his wrists off the mat despite Mule shifting his weight forward to maintain the pin. Coach’s face flushed red with the effort, and thick veins rose to the surface of his massive arms and shoulders as he continued to press Mule upward.


Mule smoothly extended his right leg backward and then drove his knee crashing into Coach’s exposed testicles. Coach gasped as his wrists slammed weakly back to the mat. “Ooooos” of sympathy groaned from the bleachers but in fairness it had been Chesnick who had turned this into a street-rules brawl. “I’m not getting fucked by you, old man!” Mule snarled. Suddenly he rolled off of his opponent and smoothly rolled up to his feet, stepping backward slowly in a low crouch. After a stunned moment, his balls dropping back down from his throat where they had lodged from the impact of Mule’s knee--Coach quickly pulled himself up to his side, resting on his right shoulder while rubbing his balls soothingly with his left hand. His eyes were fixed furiously on his opponent’s face.

As Mule circled just out of arm length, Coach shifted to his hands and knees, keeping his stalking opponent in front of him. Rising to his feet, Coach continued massaging his balls in his left hand. “Oh, no, boy. I can’t believe you just let me go. That’s the worst mistake of your life, now you are just meat for the grill.”

Mule stopped circling and stood up straighter. Without taking his eyes off of his opponent, he tugged free the towel still wrapped around his waist and threw it into the corner. His crotch was shaved smooth, except for a small halo of blond curls at the base of his cock. The young hunk’s cock swung limply, 6 inches flaccid.

A grin stretched across Coach’s face. “Mmmmm,” he groaned hungrily. “Play your cards right, kid, and I’ll pay special attention that donger before we’re all done.” Mule silently turned to the side, bracing his right leg behind him and lifting his open hands in front of him. Coach studied his opponent’s coiled body for several seconds and then shrugged. “Let’s do this.”

Chesnick took two quick steps forward. Simultaneously, Mule spun clockwise, pivoting on his right leg. As he rotated, he shifted his weight to his left leg and lifted his right leg. Stretching his leg straight and arched high over his head, Mule’s heel swung crashing into Coach’s jaw. A loud popping sound echoed off the walls as the Chesnick dropped to his left knee, clutching his face in agony.


Mule bounced on both feet once, and then grabbed Coach’s head in both hands a fraction of a second before lifting his left knee, thrusting it crashing upward squarely under the bully’s chin.


Coach’s head snapped backward, and the tall muscleman flew backward, falling like a felled tree to his back. A roar of delighted surprise erupted from the freshmen in the bleachers. Mule bounced on the balls of his feet, circling slowly around his opponent lying in the center of the mats.


Coach groaned and slowly and rolled to his side, rubbing his jaw gingerly and blinking rapidly. Seeing his opponent hovering in front of him, Coach quickly climbed to his hands and knees, swaying dizzily as struggled to gather his wits again. Mule planted his right leg and swung his left foot in a broad arc, driving his heel into Coach’s right cheek. The Coach’s head snapped to the side, his elbows buckled, and he fell to his side again, his face clutched in both hands.


Applause and cheers rained down from the bleachers. We were rooting and stroking for Mule again!


Again, Mule kept his distance, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet and circling slowly around his opponent. It took Coach a half a minute to shake the cobwebs from his head before finally climbing back to his hands and knees with a wary, dazed eye on his dangerous opponent.


Once again, Mule planted his right foot and swung his left foot in a wide arc toward Coach’s face. The swarthy muscleman leaned backward, slapping the swinging foot harmlessly away. Mule spun around, shifting his weight to his left foot and shooting his right leg backward. His right heel landed a glancing blow to Coach’s right temple, knocking the Coach backward, sprawling to his muscular ass.


Big bad Chesnik seemed like a blimp that was losing air, his muscles seemed to sag a bit as he slid backward on his ass, tenderly testing his bruised temple with his right hand. Mule bounced on the balls of his feet once again, his cock clearly swelling as it bobbed up and down. His upper lip curled slightly, a satisfied sneer slowly stretched across his handsome face.


Coach slid backward until his back reached the wall behind him. Mule shadowboxed, firing a flurry of punches into the air as he hovered a few feet in front of his opponent.


“What you think about the boy, now, old man!?” Mule sneered. “All that fuckin’ talk, but nothing to back it up.” Mule suddenly lifted his arms at his sides and flashed an impressive double bicep, sweat glistening off his peaked upper arms and in the crevice between his pecs under the overhead lights. This was the Mule that I had fallen heads over heels for. Groans of hungry approval emanated from the two freshmen as well.


Mule’s cock bobbed up and down as the young stud flexed, as if it had a mind of its own. It was growing harder as the three of us in the bleachers stared at it intensely, the tip swelling like the head of a mushroom. Our three mouths all fell slack and strands of drool hung from our gaping jaws. Mule caught a glimpse of us spellbound and Mule flexed all the harder and the more energetically, while his thickening and growing cock bobbed.

Throwing his arms down, Mule turned around and gazed over at the silhouetted trio in the bleachers. “Fuck yeah!” he smiled, his bright white teeth gleaming. Punching his right fist into his left palm with a slap, he bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, sending his stiffening cock swinging even more energetically. “Who’s the man now?!” Mule shouted over at the bleachers. We answered him with peals of delighted laughter and shouts of “You are!” Mule’s smiling, dimpled face beamed with the lustful worship of the audience. He pressed his right fist into his left palm, flexing his round pecs and making his ripped six-pack rock hard. “That’s fucking right!” he shouted with a tinge of mania in his voice. “I’m the fucking man now!”

Mule’s cock was now fully erect and dripping pre-cum, nine inches of youthful eagerness pointing upward at a 45-degree angle. He punched his fist into his palm again with a slap as he turned around to deliver another pugilistic assault on his stunned opponent. Coach had just pulled himself up to a crouch, resting on his right knee. He rubbed his jaw and temple with his fingertips, seeming oblivious to his opponent’s renewed attention. His cock had also swelled to a full erection, nearly a foot long and an almost frightening 5 inches in circumference. It was no wonder that the pair of them so readily bent the predilections of even arrow straight guys.

Coach was not, however, oblivious to Mule’s drive for final victory. As Mule cocked his right fist next to his ear, taking aim at his opponent’s face, the bully lunged upward off driving an uppercut directly between Mule’s legs. The blow landed squarely, crushing the young hunk’s testicles and lifting Mule upward to the balls of his feet.


Mule’s scream echoed off the walls of the arena as our group in the bleachers grew hushed. The young hunk stumbled backward, his shoulders hunched as he clutched his balls protectively, appearing momentarily unable to breath. Coach stood upright, working his jaw with his big right hand for a few more seconds as he stared furiously at his stunned opponent.

Suddenly, Coach reached out and grabbed the back of Mule’s neck with his left hand, pulling him forward, while at the same time swinging his right fist driving hard into the backs of Mule’s hands still clutching at his balls. The young hunk sucked in more air, his mouth hanging open, as tried to back away. Coach held him firmly in place by the back of his neck. Batting away Mule’s hands, Coach threw two more savage punches to his opponent’s crotch, smashing into his testicles and landing glancing blows to the stunned hunk’s swollen cock. Mule’s scream devolved into choking groans as he tried to wrench his neck free from his captor, but Coach reinforced his hold by lacing his hands together behind the young hunk’s neck. A sudden lift of Coach’s left knee once again crushed Mule’s balls, and the battered young star dropped to his knees, slipping from his opponent’s grasp.

The three of us in the bleachers slowly recovered from the shocking turn around, and sad to say we were again lusting after Chesnick. The Mule’s loyalist in my cerebellum pleaded in a shrill internal voice to the Fates for the young hunk to rally.


On his knees, clutching his balls, and seeing stars, Mule swayed with a green hue and looking nauseated. His cock was quickly shrinking, even as he found himself at eye-level with the engorged endowment of the horsehung Chesnick.

Coach Chesnick put his hands on his hips as he towered over the kneeling Mule.  "I can castrate a full grown bull using nothing but my bare hands. I still do it a few times a year at the farm. If I can wrestle a 1200 pound bull to the ground,  can hold it down while it fights me as I squeeze one ball at a time until the ball pops in my grip, then what chance do you have against me, Mule? I've turned 50+ bulls into steers, bare handed and as naked as I am right now.  Yeah, balls out. It only seemed fair that  If I was gonna destroy the nut sacks of those dumb beasts, that mine should be on the line too."

 Coach grabbed Mule by a fist full of hair and pried his face up. “ I was going to break you in easy, son... but after that bullshit…” Coach paused as if searching for how he should finish the sentence.


Coach grabbed his own cock, stroking it rapidly and working his already impressive erection even harder. The massive member was almost thicker than Coach’s fingers could reach around, and fully erect it pointed directly at Mule’s face, a full 12 inches long. It was like something you could order at Subway. Pulling Mule’s face forward by his fist full of hair,. Mule’s face screwed up, his eyes shut tightly, even as his opponent beat his cock repeatedly against his cheeks and tightly sealed lips.

Coach Chesnick, still holding Mule’s head by a fist full of hair, grabbed the young hunk’s jaw with his left hand. He pried the dazed stud’s mouth open by yanking on his nose with his right hand. The instant Mule’s lips parted, Coach slid the tip of his cock inside. Mule choked and sputtered, attempting to pull his face away. Coach held the kneeling hunk’s head still and shoved his beautiful cock deeper inside Mule’s mouth.

"A little protein shake for you Mule,
drink it down to the last drop!"

“Let’s just call that the appetizer, boy!” Coach roared. Laughter and applause erupted from the three of us in the bleachers despite our better natures. We were now stroking furiously, and sad to say it wasn’t Mule that was captivating us. The blond jock gagged as Coach forced his massive cock to the back of his throat. Coach laughed and pulled his cock slowly out of his opponent’s gaping mouth.


“How’s that taste?” Coach asked, prying Mule’s face upward again as the giant muscleman towered over him. "I think you are going to like being a cocksucker, Mule..." A string of saliva stretched between Mule’s lower lip and the tip of the Coach’s cock. Mule clenched his jaw and remained silent, still clutching at his throbbing balls and fighting waves of nausea from the furious ball bashing.

“Get up here, you piece of shit,” Coach snarled, pulling upward on Mule’s blonde hair until the young hunk gasped in pain and defensively climbed weakly to his feet. Hooking his left harm between Mule’s legs, Chesnick lifted his opponent off his feet and stretched his back across Coach’s wide, hard shoulders. Grabbing Mule’s chin with his right hand, Coach pulled down, bending him backward. Mule groaned and kicked his legs half-heartedly until Coach clawed at his balls with his left hand. Mule’s body stiffened in agony, and he screamed desperately, “I give up! I give up!”


Coach strolled in a slow circle around the mats, not releasing his hold on his opponent’s jaw or balls. “I said I give up!!!” Mule cried out angrily.


“I don’t give a shit what you said!!!” Coach roared like a lion. “We’re done here when I tell you we’re done here!” Us guys in the bleachers groaned and moaned as we jacked ourselves into explosive orgasms spewing creamy tribute to the bastard Chesnick who had completely ensorcelled us.

Coming to a halt in the middle of the gym, Coach shifted his hold, positioning his left hand around the base of Mule’s neck and his right hand squeezing his right thigh. With a quiet grunt, Coach pressed Mule’s body overhead. It looked like no effort at all, as the giant brunette seemed to soak up the radiating lust from the bleachers, his arms locked overhead like a triumphant powerlifter. The muscled blond youngster hung helplessly in the air, dizzyingly high and with nowhere to go but down. Mule clutched his opponent’s left arm fearfully.


“No, no, no, no…” Mule muttered for what seemed m like an eternity hanging suspended high off the ground, completely at his opponent’s mercy. Finally, Coach let him drop, quickly dropping to his knee in order to catch the brutalized young star across his outstretched thigh. The air rushed out of Mule’s lungs with a violent grunt as he folded around Coach’s hairy leg. Mule hung limply bent over Coach’s thigh.


“You’ve been a bad, bad boy,” Coach snarled. “And what do we do to bad boys!?”


One of the freshmen yelled out, “Spank him!!!”

Without another word, Coach swung his right palm in a wide arc, landing with a sharp crack across Mule’s bare ass. The young hunk jerked in shock, but his opponent pinned him in place with his left arm as he swiftly delivered another smack, making Mule’s muscled cheeks quiver and flush dark red. With the third slap, the freshmen began to count, “Three!” “Four!” “Five!” When they reached the count of ten, Mule’s ass was an angry scarlet, with the pale outline of Coach’s hand print marking the location where the last swat had landed.

Abruptly, the Coach stood up, sending Mule sliding off his leg and landing with a thud at his feet. Coach’s cock was ramrod hard. The veins in his phallus pulsed just beneath the skin’s surface. “You really pissed me off, kid!” --he muttered as if in surprise. Absent mindedly, he grabbed his cock and squeezed it in his left hand, making the head swell even larger. “You tried to fuck with the wrong man,” Coach snarled.


Mule lay on his side clutching his abdomen, barely moving. Coach squatted low and hooked his right arm underneath his knees and cradled Mule’s neck in his left arm. Lifting him like a baby, Coach took a short victory stroll around the mat while we in the bleachers gazed on-- essentially hypnotized and love-struck. “There, there, boy,” Coach cooed into his opponent’s face. “You look like you’ve had just about enough,” he said, just loud enough for us to hear. “Do you want this to stop now? Have you had enough of playing with the big boys?”


Mule swallowed hard and nodded rapidly, “Please…” he gasped.

"I am going to break you in half, boy..."  he growled.

Again, halting in the middle of the mats, Coach dropped to one knee, sending the small of Mule’s back crashing on top of Coach’s outstretched leg. Mule gasped. His smooth legs quivered as Coach held him bent backward over his hairy thigh.


With his left forearm stretched across the young hunk’s flat stomach, holding him in place, Coach grabbed Mule’s balls and squeezed. The battered young hunk screamed and stiffened, but remained perched painfully immobilized. Coach rolled up to the ball of his foot and then dropped his heel to the mat again, making Mule shudder as pain lanced up his spine upon crashing down onto Coach’s thigh again.


“What happened here?” Coach said with a chuckle, releasing his claw and taking Mule’s limp dick in his hand. “I thought you said you were the man,” Coach sneered. “What happened to that big, pretty cock you had there, Mule?” He said pointing to the cock that had grown flaccid. He spit into the palm of his hand and began rubbing Mule’s cock, gently at first, and then with a firmer grip as Mule’s body began to respond. Coach’s big hand massaged his opponent’s member faster. Slowly, Mule’s cock began to swell again in his opponent’s grip.

“There he is,” Coach chuckled. “Totally respectable, Mule,” he said, holding the tip of Mule’s cock in his fingertips and assessing its size. “I mean, it’s like bringing a baseball bat to a gunfight, but seriously, kid,” Coach C. spits on Mule’s cock and began stroking it again, “really, not bad at all.”


Coach continued to work his captured opponent’s cock. Mule’s eyes closed as his back throbbed in agony and his cock quickly rose to the edge of ecstasy. A deeper groan, and Mule’s jaw opened slightly. Chesnick took the opportunity to plunge his enormous cock into the blonde’s mouth causing the young jock to spasm and gag. I felt pangs of jealousy as I wanted my own lips to envelop the Coach’s manhood. After a few thrusts, abruptly, with a pop, Coach pulled his fully erect cock from Mule’s quivering lips. The tool glistened under the lights from Mule’s spit and a fresh stream of pre-cum dripping from the tip.

Coach swiped his finger across his cockhead like a kid dipping his finger into the icing of a cake when his mother wasn’t looking “Mmmmm,” Coach said, licking his finger. “Tastes like chicken.” Coach shoved Mule off his leg with contempt and stood up. With his hands on his hips, the big brunette looked down at his own stunning foot-long erection. “I have gorged on the agony of your defeat, but you know what? I’m still hungry, Mule!”


Pulling him up to his feet by two fists full of hair, Coach dragged the glassy-eyed hunk across the mat and threw him face-first into the wall. As Mule’s head bounced off the wall and he stumbled backward, Coach hooked Mule’s head beneath his muscled right arm and dropped his left knee to the mat, driving his helpless opponent’s back crashing down across his outstretched right thigh. Squeezing Mule’s throat, captured beneath his darkly hairy underarm, the Coach pressed against the artery feeding oxygen to the young hunk’s brain. Mule flailed his arms, smacking and prying at his captor’s grasp. His efforts merely had the effect of making the Coach laugh out loud. "Don't you get it yet, Mule?  Nothin' can stop me!

"Squirm, Mule!” he sneered. After a minute, Mule’s arms began to go limp. Coach dumped him flat on his back as he rose to his feet. Again, standing over his brutalized opponent, Coach rested his hands on his narrow hips and examined his own massive erection. It flexed and bobbed hungrily. “I’m fucking famished now, Mule!”

“Maybe I should take that ass of yours so you officially become my butt monkey!” Mule rolled to his side and stretched his left arm behind him to rub his injured back. Squatting behind him, Coach grabbed his wrist and pressed it upward between his shoulder blades. Mule grunted in startled pain. Guiding him with his captured wrist, Coach forced Mule to his stomach. He released the wrist and sat down on the young hunk’s upper back, facing Mule’s muscled ass, still bright red from his spanking. Coach leaned forward, stretching out his fingers and squeezing the red-hued glutes, kneading the muscles in his hands.


“Take that ass, Coach!” came a shout from one of the freshman. I suddenly found myself joining in, with applause and a roar of "yeah, fuck him, fuck him Coach..."


“Mmmmm,” Coach moaned, biting his lower lip. “I think they’re right, boy. This looks like it would hit the spot.” Prying the muscled cheeks apart, Coach examined the puckered asshole of the battered stud. “I’d suggest you start to relax a bit, Mule,” Coach chuckled.


Mule grunted and squirmed desperately, twisting his hips to the side. “God damn it!” he shouted furiously.


Coach swung his open right palm from behind his head, cracking it loudly across Mule’s bruised, red ass. “Fantastic, boy!” he said with a smile. “You’ve still got some fight in you yet, eh?”


Coach reached forward and grabbed one of Mule’s ankles in each hand. Slowly lowering his ass down across his opponent’s upper back, the bully hooked Mule’s ankles underneath his underarms and pried his legs backward. As Mule’s lower back was folded slowly and agonizingly backward, he screamed and pounded his fists into the mat.

Coach smiled silently and leaned backward, wrenching the young hunk’s back still farther. Up at the bleachers there was only stunned nervous silence.


Coach laughed, releasing Mule’s right leg while maintaining his tight grip on the left leg. “Just like you, those cocksuckers watching up there, including Mr. B, belong to ME now, Mule!” Coach grabbed his own cock roughly in his left hand, squeezing and stroking the throbbing member hard. It was huge and shining brightly of pre-cum and sweat. Releasing it, he reached down and squeezed Mule’s tender balls, eliciting a fresh wave of screams from the tortured stud and a new round of applause from the nearly delirious audience. The big brute clawed the crushed testicles mercilessly, his veiny shoulder and upper arm flexing and twisting.


Mule’s screams slowly died down into whimpers. Coach released the ball claw, and lifted his right hand to his face, smelling his opponent’s musk on his fingers. His eyes fluttered closed briefly, and then snapped open. “What do you think, Mule?” he demanded. “Do you think you’re just about ready to give up that pretty little virgin ass of yours? Or do you want me to take it by force?!”

Mule shouted and pounded his fist into the mat again in fury and frustration. Coach slid his body backward another few inches, dangerously twisting the captured hunk’s lower back still farther with his left leg nearly pried backward over Mule’s head. With his right hand, Coach reached down and squeezed Mule’s balls again. "Only thing I got to do is squeeze harder and your manhood will be crushed in my grip. Just like I've done to all those bulls back on the farm..." The young hunk whimpered in tortured exhaustion.

“We can do this all day, can’t we boys?!” Coach shouted up at the enraptured audience, setting off another roar of ecstatic agreement. He twisted his massive hand, threatening to rip Mule’s balls off. Mule sobbed, slapping the palms of his hands desperately into the mat.

“I give, okay!” he cried. “OKAY!!!”

Coach let go of his opponent’s balls but maintained his grip on the single leg.

“What’s that, Mule?” Coach asked, looking over his shoulder and smelling his fingers again. “’Okay’ what?”

Mule sobbed silently, helpless underneath his opponent, until Coach reached for his balls again. “I give up!” he shouted before Coach’s fingers actually touched his scrotum. “Okay, I give up. Whatever you want…you win…my ass is yours...........!”

Coach let go of Mule’s left leg, which fell to the mat with a lifeless slap. “That’s where this match was going to end up all along, you know that?” he taunted, remaining seated across Mule’s upper back. He grabbed his massive cock in both hands and stroked it, twisting his hands as they rubbed up the powerful shaft over and over. “You made me work for it, Mule. I’ll give you that.”

''This is how you reduce an alpha male down to a submissive bottom. By showing dominance and wrestling superiority over his muscled, jacked up jock body. I conquered his body, the only thing left now is  to conquer his mind..." the Coach announced, as though he was giving a lecture. 

"We’ll get to that sweet ass of yours later, I am not finished with that succulent mouth of yours."   He pried open Mule’s close pressed lips with the formidable battering ram that was the giant’s phallus.  Mule struggled to open his mouth to encompass the girth presented to him. It was lucky that Mule had a big mouth literally as well as figuratively.  Mule’s lips kissed the flesh of the champion’s penis and his tongue, as if with a mind of its own, began to work the head of Chesnick’s cock.  It was as if a new and strange hunger had been awakened in the blond athlete.  The Coach palmed Mule’s head and gently eased his formidable member slowly deeper and deeper into Mule’s appreciative mouth.

As Mule suckled on the Coach's veiny thick horse cock, he gazed up at Coach Chesnick's musculature and power and learned for the first time that a man could best him in a contest of strength, power and alpha dominance was utterly arousing. This would be his first man-crush, but not his last-though men who could best the Mule were few and far between.

[See Mule and the Trucker, The Mile High Bear Hug Club , and The Cock Contest Round Two:-Dick-to-Dick for accounts of those who could]

Still it irked Mule that he would have such passionate feelings for a douchebag like Coach Chesnick, but it was what it was.


Mule had never tasted a man’s cock before this day, heck he didn’t even like eating pussy, finding it beneath his dignity to cater to a women like the SUBORDINATE in a sexual encounter. He only did it when he absolutely had to. Mule had to admit the taste of cock was not unpleasant, but he thought the sensation was thoroughly overrated by faggots, and the stretching of his jaws to encompass the enormity of Coach’s penis was actually quite painful, despite Mule having a big mouth-both literally and figuratively! He became preoccupied with his efforts to keep from gagging as Chesnick pressed more and more of the seemingly endless shaft in Mule’s straining maw and throat. Mule’s exertions to cope with this one eyed colossal snake began to eclipse the erotic pleasure he felt in paying homage to this glorious embodiment of Chesnick’s total alpha dominance.


As I said before, as much as I loved the Mule I felt a secret satisfaction of seeing Mule taken down a few notches plus I had to confess, seeing Chesnick in all his muscular power and glory filled me with such feverish desire that I had, up to this point, never felt for any male other than Mule.  I hungered for that priapic cock of the Coach to be rammed down my own more than willing mouth. My stroking again took on a much more energetic pace.


Mule began to taste Coach’s precum as the giant bull of a man began to skull fuck him harder and harder, moaning in triumphant euphoria, at the last minute Chesnick pulled out and shot a geyser of spunk on Mule’s face and chest drenching him in thoroughly such that all Mule could smell was the wheaty aroma of semen. Mule feels a hard slap across the face. As Chesnick licked off the spunk residue on his hand transferred in the slap he instructs Mule to lick up the jizz that has splashed on the wrestling mats. “Don’t leave that shit for the janitors.” Mule, now utterly cowed, complied his tongue tasting of semen and plastic.


Next, Coach with a powerful sucker punch coldcocked Mule leaving him lying flat on his back dead to the world. He grabbed Mule by one of his size 14 feet and dragged him into the showers. The three of us in the bleachers followed close behind, but such was the haze of our infatuation for the brunette titan, it seemed more like we floated after him.

As he got close to the showers he hauled the groggy Mule up on wobbly legs and then slug him over his broad left shoulder like a sack of potatoes. With his bear claw sized left hand keeping the stirring Mule from sliding down and over his boulder sized delts, he turned on one of the showers with the right. “Wake up sweet cheeks! Time for your ultimate submission.” He swung Mule off him and against the wall spinning him around so his face was pressed against the tiles. “You have a great ass Mule, I have been wanting to have a go at that since your freshman year!”

“Let’s see those pretty muscles again, Mule,” Coach commanded. “You were so proud of them earlier.” Mule’s eyes snapped open and he raised his arms, flexing his biceps for his opponent’s pleasure.


“Very nice, Mule,” Coach said with a chuckle. “Now show me those abs.”


Mule swallowed hard and sighed. Fighting exhaustion, he laced his fingers behind his head crunching his sharply defined abdominal muscles.


“There you go, Mule,” Coach said almost soothingly. “Very nice. Now flex those pretty pecs.”



Again, Mule swallowed. Looking fiercely into Coach’s face, he grabbed his right wrist with his left hand in front of his lower abdomen and flexed. His round pecs hardened, striations visible from where the muscles attached to his breastbone.

“Mmmmm,” Coach moaned, staring. "That’s a pretty sight,” he muttered.

He pulled Mule legs together in front of him, capturing his own cock between his bested opponent’s sweaty thighs. Slowly, he flexed his glutes, sliding his erection in and out between his opponent’s legs. “Flex those biceps!” he gasped, watching lustfully as Mule obeyed, staring at the sweat dripping from Coach’s brow.

“Very nice, Mule,” Coach groaned, finally withdrawing his cock entirely from between Mule’s legs. Pre-cum was oozing out, sliding down the Coach’s shaft in generous quantity. Slowly, Coach turned Mule so he was facing the wall. Spitting into his right hand, Coach rubbed his saliva on the head of his cock, adding a touch more lubricant to the sweat and pre-cum already coating it. Spitting again onto his fingertips, he gently massaged Mule’s puckered asshole.

Mule gasped at Coach’s touch. “Very, very pretty, indeed,” Coach said, his head cocked to side as he examined Mule’s hole. ."I’m so glad you’re an ass virgin,” he gloated.  “Thanks for saving yourself for me!" he crowed. “I could tell by your reaction when you first laid eyes on me in your freshman year that I was the ONLY man for you.  Still thanks for saving yourself for me and not frolicking with one of your homo mates on the football team! ”

  The Coach’s glutes flexed as he leaned forward, positioning the head of his cock over Mule’s asshole. Again, Mule gasped. "Time for your de-flowering, son...I am going to fuck you.  That's a given.  The only question is will it be a fuck or a rape.... so tell the boys over there  you want it, cupcake."

“I want it , coach, fuck me coach!” Mule hissed through gritted teeth as we in the peanut gallery let out a collective gasp. There seemed to be an internal struggle going on in Mule between his masculine pride and the pack urge to yield to the top alpha male.  The latter clearly had the upper hand. The Mule had given his ass to the Coach. 

Chesnick laughed.  “Looks like the hot young stallion has become my new mare!”

Coach held his shaft in his right hand as he bore down. Mule groaned. “Come on, Mule,” Coach whispered. “Just relax.” The Coach’s glutes flexed harder as he leaned forward. He quickly spit into his right hand again and rubbed his cock again before pressing downward still harder.

Mule gasped. “Mmmmmm,” Coach moaned, pressing harder and harder. “Ahhh!” Mule shouted out, a mix of astonishment and pain, as the head of Coach’s cock slid inside him. Lining himself up against the virginal entrance, with a sudden thrust Coach worked the flared head of his magnificent manhood into Mule's hot studhole.

Mule gasped in pain at the sudden shock, his body stiffening, every beautiful muscle bulging in relief, as the swollen tip of Coach's huge prod forcefully pierced his hitherto unbreached anus. Coach grabbed Mule's hips and waited a few seconds, totally still, with maybe an inch of his cock inside Mule.

After a few seconds Coach continued pushing his mighty tool into Mule's tight rear. Ever so slowly, he eased forward, inserting little more than the second inch, then slowly, carefully, another, and finally, a fourth inch of his steel- hard manmeat into that quivering muscular glove.

This was all too much to Mule. For the first time, his body was being invaded by the cock of another man. Mule's eyes widened in pain and he gave a low groan.

Coach's sinewy hands grabbed at Mule's buttcheeks and began to massage them, slowly pulling them further apart, stretching Mule's tight virgin chute . Deeper and deeper Coach forced his throbbing erection, driving his steel-hard poker up Mule's convulsing anus in short, stabbing thrusts as Mule groaned and wriggled his smooth round ass. Then, with a sudden push backwards, Mule shoved his quivering colon around the rampant shaft of Coach's huge rammer until the soft skin of his ass ground against Coach's coarse pubic hair. They both moaned at the sensation of completeness.


It hurt Mule like hell at first but, as Coach let Mule's butt adjust to the large fleshy invasion, the pain subsided. Coach slowly pulled out until just his tip was in the hole, and then drove himself home in one firm, slow stroke, burying his manhood deep inside Mule until Mule's muscular buns were compressed against his meaty groin. Suddenly, unbelievably, Mule felt a burst of pleasure unlike anything he'd felt before radiate from his rectum. Mule gasped, then groaned as Coach's cock brushed against his prostate. He didn't know whether to enjoy the tingling sensations that were making him feel so fucking horny, or whether to feel disgusted with himself for getting into this and liking it.


With maddening patience Coach slow fucked Mule, letting Mule feel every inch of his weapon invade his most private parts. Mule's head was swaying, rolling from side to side. Low, guttural moans began to escape from Mule's lips. The pain Mule had was being replaced by the raw male sex drive, and Coach felt Mule getting used to dick in his tight warm tailhole.

"Aaaaghh", moaned Mule. "Man, I love the feel of your dick in me...." He began to buck back against the strong body possessing his own.

Coach's calloused hands pulled and tugged at Mule's rock-hard trim waist, helping to support the other man's weight.  The oversized cock up his butt continued its relentless pumping. Coach's thrusts were as long as they were deep, and he pumped his hips slow and steady like pistons.

The constant pressure on his joy gland elicited long and deep moans from Mule, spurring Coach on. Coach yanked the length of his shaft almost free of Mule's tight, clinging ass as his hands gripped Mule's thick, wide shoulders and shoved downward, pressing Mule's knees into the ground, putting Mule in the "doggy" position, just as he had earlier promised.   Then he slammed his cock forward, into the hilt. There was a brief heartbeat when they both paused, Coach's humongous manmeat fully buried in Mule's tight colon, his furred balls rubbing Mule's nards. Then Coach reared back, again and again, in and out of Mule's eager, flexing love canal. He grunted roughly with each thrust, watching his pole pumping between Mule's buttocks.

Mule's eyes nearly rolled back into his head as Coach increased the tempo of the fuck. This position allowed for almost continuous stimulation of Mule's male g-spot. His overworked prostate was raked and pummeled over and over by the mushroom shaped cockhead that surged inside of his mating hole again and again.  Here he was, taking all of Coach's mammoth cock inside of his tunnel of love like he was made for it. And it felt so good, so.... right. Whatever Coach was hitting inside of him served to emphasize the rightness of it to the hunky, macho, formerly 100% hetero, muscle stud.

Mule's large, erect cock jumped wildly in response to Coach's thrusting, and his overheated body shook with passion as Coach pumped it demandingly. Each stroke of his fucker's cock turned Mule's guts inside out. He couldn't believe he was taking all of this gargantuan cock. He couldn't believe this huge fuckrod fitted inside his jock ass. But not only did that dick fit, but Mule was loving every minute of getting screwed by this , muscular, hung stud. Kneeling on all fours, Mule braced himself against Coach's powerful thrusts, his ears filled with the slurping sounds of the rough fuck Coach was throwing up his ass. Mule was in an orgasmic state, reveling in the pleasure-pain of his first prostate banging. He had Coach bull fucking him and it was great.

Coach continued to assault Mule's  backdoor fuck chute, reveling in the warmth, the heat that wrapped around his fuck rod. Beaded with sweat, the two men panted heavily as their  muscular bodies slammed together in a primal rhythm of lust.  The smell of Mule's sweat was sending Coach's brain awhirl with desire, and snarling deep in his throat he bit Mule's thick, meaty trap savagely, savoring the sensations which pounded through his huge, stiff prick as he brutally butt fucked Mule's delectable jock ass. His arms circled around Mule to steady the other man against his wild thrusts, Coach lay across Mule's wide and thickly muscled back, pounding into Mule's ass. They were so near in height that their bodies matched, curve for curve, so that Mule's naked ass was fitting quite nicely into the hard, warm saddle of Coach's pelvis.

The two handsome, hard-bodied males became lost in each other's powerful masculine bodies, their sweat dripping as they mated unrelentingly  Again and again Coach drove his length into his hard-muscled mate. Mule matched him thrust for thrust, arching his back under Coach while Coach thrusted his hips at Mule.

Coach slid his 12 thick inches inside him. Mule’s breath exploded out of his lungs in quick jolts, somewhere in between gasps and sobs. Coach’s muscled glutes flexed and relaxed in a slow rhythm as his cock slid back and forth, his hips tilting forward and backward. Mule had prolapsed a cheerleader’s anus once, now he had some idea of how painful that must had been.  For the first time, another man was inside the Mule.

Coach’s head rolled backward. His eyes were closed as primal pleasure played across his handsome face. The rhythm of his fucking quickened as he pounded harder. The slap of his hips against Mule’s ample ass cheeks kept time, his cock never skipping a beat as he drove harder.

Mule’s jaw dropped open soundlessly, but his eyes remained tightly shut as he clawed at the tile floor. Coach rocked his hips over and over like a pile driver pounding into his opponent. After a couple of minutes. The hungry Coach slammed his hips as the rhythm of his fucking quickened. Gasps and moaning were punctuated by slapping flesh and occasional shouts of ecstasy.

Sweat poured off of Coach’s brow and chin thickly, splattering across Mule’s wide back. The Coach's groans grew louder even as the rhythm of his fucking was abruptly interrupted. With his hot breath blasting on the back of Mule’s head, the Coach inquired “I bet you want me to continue, don’t you Mule, I’m not so sure I should-- I think we ALL need to hear you BEG FOR IT!”

“Please—“--Mule whimpered.

“You got to do better than that my young Padwan!” jeered Chesnick.

“Please, Coach I want you to fuck me more.”—sobbed Mule.

“Just want?” Chesnick gloated.

“I NEED it Coach!”

“Please, Coach I want you to fuck me more.”

“Yes, Mule, I do believe you do!” replied the Coach, a look of triumphant satisfaction on his face. "I am going to nut inside you...your cherry is mine..."

After this short pause, he thrust his cock deep again over and over again as he eased back into his rhythm.  Reaching his groove he pumped the several times and then froze again, his body going rigid. Mule’s eyes opened and stared, transfixed on the wall in front of his face.

Coach established an animal-like humping motion that would carry him to the precipice of satisfaction. It wouldn't take much more of this. He speeded up his ass strokes, pounding firmly and rhythmically, his low-hanging testicles slapping obscenely against Mule's with each frenzied stroke. Then, pounding harder and harder into Mule's butthole, Coach became an animal, his lust and passion raging hotly through his body.

Coach was out of control. He could feel the long-delayed wads of man seed building and clotting together in the tubes of his swollen nuts. And then, abruptly, his powerful legs jerked. His thighs shuddered. His sweat-steamed back arched as Coach gave one last thrust up Mule's newly breached anus and held it there, as shock waves of passion hurled themselves across his sweaty body. His head flew back and a bellow of raw animal lust tore from his throat that reverberated through the lockeroom.


Coach shot and shot, his semen searing the other man's hitherto virginal insides to burn Mule's sore flesh. Mule could feel the entire shaft of Coach's cock pulse and spit, filling Mule's deflowered butthole with load after filling load of rich thick potent cum.

A growl like a ferocious dog emerged from deep inside Coach’s heaving chest. His entire body jerked in a spasm before going rigid again. He bit Mule's trap and neck. Holding his breath, Coach leaned forward, as he flexed his glutes again and growled a long, low sustained growl. Mule matched Coach's growl with his own.

With a grunt, Coach’s eyes blinked rapidly, and he began to breathe normally again. His upper lip curled with a sneer, he spat, shooting thick saliva across Mule’s neck and right cheek. Cum drained out of Mule's ass and down the back of his legs to the shower floor. 

The Coach had done it.  He had busted the  cherry of the school's biggest stud.  The Mule had been fucked.  Made into the submissive receiving male and topped by the overwhelmingly masculine superior male that was the Coach.  The sexual performance of the Coach had been nothing less than magnificent-- a masterpiece of fucking. We on lookers were in awe, staring in stunned silence. The Coach had added Mule to his stable of bitches.  

Slowly, Coach shifted backward, sliding his massive cock slowly out of his opponent. When the thick head popped free, Mule cried out in pain and relief as more of the Coach's thick cum flowed out his ass.  True to Coach's boast he had nutted up in the Mule's guts so there would be no doubt that  the Mule had been bred.  The proof of the breeding flowed copiously out the Mule's newly minted ma -pussy and down the shower drain. 

Coach let the beaten young hunk slide down the shower wall and to the shower floor. Coach caught his breath and glanced down at the still gasping Mule.  The Coach let the silent spectators have a few seconds to soak in the scene.   When Coach lifted his fists in the air over his head in victory, we spectators snapped out of our stunned amazement  and  all responded with a roar of approval and gasped, ecstatic chants. “Coach! Coach! Coach!”  The Coach had proved himself the Alpha male.  He had raw dogged fucked the school's biggest stud.  We continued to to shout, chant, whistle and clap at the masterful sexual performance we had witnessed.  

“Who does your ass belong to now son?” the Coach asked with a grin.   "You coach" moaned Mule.  "I don't want you waggling it around with sagging pants for every Tom, Dick and Harry now that I broke that bronco of an ass.  So tell me, who the fuck does your ass belong to?! "


"You coach... only you!" the young blonde jock managed to croak out through syncopated breaths

“Tell Mr. Benson over there who the only man for you is!” the coach said flashing me a fiendish grin.

“You coach, you are the ONLY man for me.”

“Damn right I am” The Coach said with glee.

Coach looked over at us, pointed at me and crooked his finger saying “Now it’s your turn, get the fuck over here faggot! Time to join Mule as my butt monkey!”


When I get close, Coach C. grabbed me by the throat and slammed me into the wall, his big wet tongue slurped over my neck and cheek as if he was tasting me.


“I have been looking forward to this since we first met.” He said groping my body with his big powerful paws. “You are a good looking guy, and why you ain’t a musclegod like the Mule, you got a trim athletic physique that I would love to spin around on my big bad cock. I only held off on adding you to my long list of butt monkeys because you are the only guy on the faculty I actually like, despite you having become such a pantywaist!”


I realized now that I had wanted him from the first time I had laid eyes on him. I had simply repressed it as bromantic admiring, and it had taken the Mule to liberate such feelings. My cock stirred when I realized the attraction was mutual.

The coach continued: “But when I learned that you had become Mule's jock sniffer, I figured it was only a matter of time before Mule would take your ass, and we can’t have THAT, so I am staking my claim!” He underscored his words by squeezing my buttocks in his big strong hand, and then tracing my butthole with one finger. He then brought that hand up to his mouth and hocked a loogie on to his fingers and began lubricating his target.


Coach’s huge, warm body scrunched on top of mine. He began easing his big bulbous cockhead into my anus which exploded with pain. Then the torturous yet ecstatic sex began. Coach moved-- back and forth. And with each millimeter of movement he drove me wild-- insane with lust. I relished the sensations, and felt satisfaction at having the Coach inside me. The giant’s mammoth cock rocked-- slowly. As he pumped my anus, he stroked my cock with his meaty left hand. I felt new sensations of pain and pleasure that I had not known possible, slowly and surely his cock pressed to the hilt, until it could go no further. I was in pain. But OH, it hurt… so… good.

Coach continued to move his penis-- inside my anus-- very slowly.  Very slowly. My sensitive anus and rectum went wild with a newfound sensation. I had found my true calling in life, and it was to be a bottom for a bigger, stronger, more muscular man.

“Tell the Mule, just how much you are liking this, frootloop!” the Coach said through heavy breaths.

‘Oh yes!”—I moaned—“Yes….yes…YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!”

“Tell him just how much you love me right, now!”

“I love you Coach.” I said in a heavily aspirated and ecstatic grunt

“Who did you say you loved?” He groaned giving a glance over to Mule. 

“You Sir, ONLY you!”

“That’s my good butt monkey!”

I realized I was in the throes of not only lustful passion but love, despite myself I did feel a strong and abiding love for the Coach. At that moment my mind could think of NOTHING but him.  He may be a jerk, but the man sure new how to work his cock around an anus, working my prostate until my mind was bursting with the fireworks of endorphines.

“You like my big beautiful cock inside you, don’t you Benson.”

“Yes, Sir” I whispered

“No butt monkey, not to ME... tell the gang JUST how much you like it! I want a couple of freshmen to appreciate how awesome being fucked by me is. I want them to be begging for it, when I get around to them. I can shoot six to seven loads a day, so there will be plenty left for them!”


“Yeah, oh Yeah. Most awesome fuck…oh yeah…” I managed to croak out.

Painful as it was, it was also more pleasurable than I had ever imagined. I lasted on my feet less time than the Mule, but when I slid down onto my knees there was a slight Mona Lisa smile of satisfaction that had been absent from Mule’s lips.


Somewhere from outside my haze, I heard the freshmen chanting: “Coach! Coach! Coach!”

Mule to the Rescue!

The first week or so after Mule and I got our anal cherries popped by Chesnick was not so bad. Chesnick took it easy on us while we recovered. “Nothing like your first time, butt monkeys, but you will get used to it!” We avoided sitting down, both of us were walking around with the peculiar gait that students at BF Christian had come to call the Chesnick shuffle. My sphincter was never again completely what it was. You can say it was permanently ‘marked’ by Chesnick, kind of like a property of Coach C. label. While I have tasted a variety of cocks, to this day Chesnick's dick is the only one to explore my rectum. I began sporting a bow tie, which I now learned was the secret emblem at BF Christian that one was Chesnick's butt monkey. I wondered why so many faculty and staff at our High School wore them, I thought it was brown-nosing up to Principal Flatbush who wore them with his endless array of white linen suits.

 So all that week of recovery I was obsessed with Coach C day and night, and couldn’t get him out of my mind, I drifted frequently into lustful daydreams about my new heartthrob and was glad I didn’t have a principal observation scheduled for that week, for as a teacher I was pretty ineffectual.

I don’t know what emotions Mule was experiencing as he was pretty shutdown and taciturn and I couldn’t read his expressions. Mule was back on the wrestling squad. And with Mule back on the squad the school was advancing nicely in the tournaments. Mule was often called out his various classes over the P.A. whenever Chesnick desired servicing.

Mule was called out of class whenever
Coach Chesnick required servicing.

and I had to report during my planning period and after school.

"My cock is not going to suck itself, Benson!"

I once came into find Sgt. Grey on his knees, his hands behind his back bound by his own handcuffs greedily ingesting Chesnick’s monster cock. A soiled jock was slung over his head covering his nose. He flushed with embarrassment as he had to wait for the Coach to unlock his cuffs, so he could slink away. I guess this was Chesnick’s way of letting us know just how broad was the array of individuals at the school that he held dominion over.

Coach Chesnick held considerable influence over
key figures in the school system

 

Chesnick laid down the law. I was forbidden from servicing Mule and his FB buddies' cocks anymore, as I was his "exclusive butt monkey". But Chesnick just couldn't let well enough alone. Insult followed insult, injury on injury. One day I came home after dropping the girls off at dance, and I found Chesnick banging my wife. I think he wanted me to come in on them, so he could throw it in my face, but I snuck out again undetected, and waited around until he left so as not to give him the satisfaction.

"Your wife was a great fuck Benson,
said I gave her the first orgasm she had in years!"

My blind infatuation with the coach faded, although to be honest I still harbored lustful thoughts about his massive muscles and gargantuan schlong.  I also greedily enjoyed servicing his fuckpole with my mouth and ass even as I regarded the man as a total jerk.  You can lust for a man you can't personally stand.  As much as Chesnick held captive my  physical desires, I grew to hate the man more and more, and longed for the halcyon days when I happily served my former Master, Mule. I loved Mule, but belonged to Chesnick.  Still as much as pined for Mule, things would have continued as they were indefinitely, had Coach C.  been content with this level of subjugation.

However Chesnick could not just help himself to ratchet the bullying up another notch. After a month of being his exclusive cocksucker and butt boy, he proposed that I also service his wrestling squad (save Mule) to “man them up” before each meet, because I had become "quite the proficient cocksucker and bottom."


Mule and his friends had been one thing, they were Football Gods not mere boys, and very discrete, but extending my cocksucking out to entire wrestling squad I knew would be a disaster, there is no way all those boys could keep it to themselves. I would lose my job, my family, I could even face legal charges. For the first time since Chesnick had made me his bitch, I was both adamant and resolute in my defiance. I insisted that this was a threshold I could not, and would not cross, I had reached an inflexible boundary.

Chesnick was not keen on being defied by a “cocksucking, jock-sniffing butt monkey” as he phrased it, and let me know in no uncertain terms colored by language that would make a sailor blush! All the while his face hardened in anger, his mouth forming into a bear like snarl. This was just the sort of thing to piss Chesnick off. He expected his orders followed to the letter. The mystique of the bully lay in the unquestioning obedience and subservience of those around him. This was reinforced by sporadic acts of terror. For anyone to successfully challenge that tyrannical grip of the bully in any way and the edifice crumbles. This Chesnick could not countenance. . His growing fury was so palpable that I pissed my pants a little, Chesnick may have been a petty bully inside, but that core was still housed in a massive muscular outer shell that was not to be gainsaid as Mule had learned. It had taken great physical power to humble the Mule, and while that should have given me caution, still I would not yield.

But as his vascular muscles began to pop out the angrier he got, I found myself both frightened and aroused, and popped a boner. Which angered him further. “Damn you pussyboy! You WILL do what I say faggot, or there will be HELL to pay.” I don’t know what came over me, but I shouted back: “YOU CAN JUST GO FUCK YOURSELF!” It was like waving a red cape before a bull.


Next thing I know a giant fist was heading for my face like an extinction level meteor. I felt a tooth fly out of my mouth and a loud crack as my jaw broke. The sensation and pain was only evident for a moment. My entire skull was jarred from the impact and everything faded to black. When I came to my pants and underwear were around my ankles and I was flung over a chair --my feet and hands bound to the chair by extension cords. “Time for more of your punishment, frootloop”, the Coach screamed at me. He was not kidding.


The fuck was long and brutal. Unlike previous times where he had taken my ass, he took his cue this time apparently from prison rape porn. He went in raw and with a vengeance, a torrent of epithets and trash-talking flying out of his mouth. Chesnick’s violent brutality played havoc with my anus. Tears welled in my eyes as he mercilessly pounded my rectum and by the time he relented I was bleeding and broken. In the aftermath, I could not stand much less walk. Coach C. warned me that it would be fruitless to try and report what had happened. The Principal Mr. Flatbush has been his cocksucker since the initial job interview and he also gets serviced by the Chief of Police as well as many other officers on the force, and even the Mayor himself got down on his knees for his monster cock. He told me they all went to the same gym as he does and were easily recruited into his ever growing cockservice squad.

Mule apparently had heard the sounds … the sound of my pain, of my desperation, my agonized cries for help.  It took him a while to finally locate me, just as Chesnick was finishing threatening me into silence. I heard him cry out: “Mr. B!”  He rushed into the coach's office, to see me tied to the chair, bleeding from my mouth, and then he saw Coach with his hands palming my ass and probing it with his thick long fingers.

The shock jolted Mule back to life.   His expression was like an open book, he had to save his “Mr. B.”   He focused on the thug’s broad muscular back and a shot of adrenaline and pure hatred shot through his body.  Energy flowed through him.   Again he saw the muscles of Coach’s back rippling as the muscleman mauled my ass with his giant bearpaw.  

Mule released the cry of a wounded lion springing into action.   “NO!”  He leapt forward, gripped Coach’s shoulder and spun him around.  Coach was thrown off balance as he heard Mule yell, “You fucking animal. I’m gonna kill you. You hurt my Mr. B., you fucking asshole.  My Mr. B.!”

Coach felt the first blow to his face, then the next, and the next.   Helplessly he raised his hands to defend himself, but this was an inhuman machine, a mass of bruised muscle bearing down on him.   He was dimly aware of the blazing eyes of the demon as the fists hammered him, one after another, relentlessly.  All Mule’s strength and fury returned to him as he thrashed his rival.   No man could take punishment like this.  Coach’s handsome face spun from side to side, his muscular, naked torso shuddered.

Mule placed him in a Russian bearhug, sitting him on his massive dick. He began wrenching Coach's incredibly muscled back, again and again, while shoving his huge organ up that heavily muscled rear end.

Screaming from pain and soon, from pleasure as well, the helpless Coach pushed against Mule's enormous chest, his mountainous muscles bulging in vain, but the more he was squeezed and sodomized, the more his might waned, and waned, and kept waning until his monster cock began to leak and Chesnick moaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Mule felt an erotic rush pass through him, to know he brought the Coach to this, and came himself, his sperm gushing out his captive's nice, muscular, ass.

Dropping him to the ground, he began ass-fucking him again, all giving Coach a slow, vigorous, deep, handjob as he rammed his own cock in the other man more quickly, his balls slapping against those thickly muscled buttocks, faster and faster and faster, when finally...

The Coach ejaculated and went limp as more of Mules seed poured into his helpless opponent.

Withdrawing from him, he pried open the Coach's mouth and shoved his hungry cock deep inside, mouth fucking him and almost gagging him. Up and down he went, like a jackhammer, until he felt himself almost on the edge of another release, then, taking his enormous penis out from between Coach's submissive lips, jacked himself off until he cum over Coach's handsome features!

Coach managed to beg.

“No, no ……. please ……. no more …… I give up, man …… let me go ……I’m beaten, man.”

“You bet your life you are, you’re MY butt monkey now!” Mule growled and landed one last massive blow.  The back of his fist crashed against the side of his face and the huge muscleman spun round, then fell backward as if in slow motion.  His body slammed to the floor unconscious.

Mule ran to me, quickly untied me and held my limp body in his arms. I. sobbed into my master’s shoulder as I heard the voice I loved. “It’s OK, Mr. B. It’s over. You’re safe.”


Through the hazy filter of my pain, I looked up at my champion and the way the light played through the blur it looked like there was a golden halo behind Mule’s head.


Mule took out his cellphone to call for an ambulance to take me to the emergency room. I handed him my watch and wallet and told him, given Chesnick’s connections to tell them he had found me on the sidewalk near the school apparently mugged, helped me inside before calling 9-11, I said I would confirm this story.

I have no regrets

During my stay at the hospital, my wife found my framed picture of Mule. She then found some compromising emails on my computer to Mule and his buddies. At this point my life began to unravel, the school allowed me to resign and leave without generating yet another scandal for them to handle, my wife divorced me and gained full and exclusive custody of the kids, and I was forced to move to another state where nobody knew me.


All for the best, after she had known the delights of Chesnick’s horsedick (apparently on a number of occasions) I could have never satisfied her anyway, even if I was still so inclined. The week after the divorce became final I bought a six pack of beer and 10 lottery tickets on Saturday night. I won the Power Ball and $30 Million. My children now visit me and my husband, Roger Chesnick, at my home in Hawaii. I still call him “Coach” as a pet name. Once the asshole was beaten out of him by Mule and he ceased to be a closet case, he turned out to be a really cool guy with a sweet side. Sure he is still bold and brash, and is the dominant in our relationship, but he is no longer a douche to me or anyone else.

Chesnick sometimes lets me be on top,
but is ALWAYS dominant, he is a power bottom !

So this story has a very happy ending, as I am married to a wonderful man who even at 50 still has the body of Hercules, the cock of Zeus and the stamina of a teenager. Which reminds me, we are both looking forward to Mule’s arrival in the Fall, where he will attend as BEST MAN at the legalization of our 10 year marriage, now that Hawaii allows it.

I have never been happier than in this new life, and I owe it all to the first great love of my life….MULE.

ROLL EXIT THEME: