The football players, heavy and muscular, stood in a ring around the freshman boy. “So,” said the captain, “you want to join the team.”
The raven-haired boy was nervous, his eyes darting around the circle of jocks. It was chilly in the early morning darkness as they stood on the football field next to the storage building. The cool wind made small goose bumps rise on his arms. He chafed the skin to warm himself, and nodded.
“Well,” said the captain, “you know we don’t let just anyone join.” He glanced over to one of the other football players, who was fumbling with a key and the padlock on the door of the building. “You get that open yet?” he snapped.
“Almost,” said the young man. There was a click, and the lock popped open. “We’re in,” he said. He took the lock off the door and opened the entrance wide so the boys could file in, the young freshman in their wake.
When the door closed behind them it was dark for a moment, until the captain pulled the cord hanging from the single bare light bulb in the center of the ceiling. The dull pool of light illuminated a craggy cliff face of sports equipment. Disorganized heaps of hockey sticks lay scattered next to lumpy bags of soccer balls. Along pegs on the wall hung the dim shapes of football helmets, like waiting soldiers, fitfully reflecting the naked light.
The boy was thankful that it was at least warmer out of the wind, although none of the football players had seemed troubled by the temperature. He supposed it was because they were bulkier than he was, and didn’t mind the cold.
“Now,” said the captain, “there’s some stuff you gotta do before we can consider you for the team.”
The boy’s eyes focused nervously on the young man instructing him. He’d heard stories, some told in jest, some told in warning. He waited.
“If you make it through tonight, then you’re in. If you make it through tonight.”
The boy swallowed, but he could not hide his eagerness. If you were in with this group, you were in anywhere. “What do I have to do?” he asked, his voice sounding fearfully thin and high compared to the football players'.
A sick grin spread across the captain’s face. “Easy. You just gotta do what we say for tonight. You do everything we tell you, without complaining, and you’re good.”
Behind him, one of the other football players put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and shoved him down onto his knees. “Oh,” said the captain, “and under no circumstances can you tell anyone about this. Ever.” His eyes blazed. “Or we’ll kill you.”
The boy shivered and nodded. The captain looked pleased. He reached down and unzipped his fly, pulling out his penis. “Now, suck my dick,” he ordered.
The boy’s eyes widened. He looked around the circle, but saw only the matching dark grins of the football players as they watched eagerly. He looked back at the captain with his penis straining towards the boy and then, startled, looked around the circle again, but not at their faces this time. All of the football players were hard.
Swallowing his fear, the boy crept forward and stopped with the penis an inch from his mouth. He had never had sex before with anyone, never seen another boy’s penis except in the locker room showers. He opened his mouth and leaned forward, slipping the captain’s cock between his lips.
Not sure what to do, he sucked on it like he would a popsicle in the summer. The captain groaned, so the boy assumed he was doing something right. He continued sucking, but soon the captain grew impatient and grabbed the boy’s head in both hands, forcing it to move back and forth along the length of his cock. The boy gagged and nearly choked as the thick member was pushed down his throat.
It went on for far longer than the boy would have liked before the captain’s seed was spilling into his mouth and dripping down his chin. The boy grimaced at the unpleasant taste and spat what he could onto the floor of the storage building. The captain rolled his eyes. “It’s better if you swallow it,” he said. “You’re gonna have to clean up what you let drip.”
The boy cringed, afraid of doing something wrong. He didn’t want the older boys to kick him out; he desperately wanted to be a part of this group.
“What next?” asked one of the other football players. There were some exchanged looks and hushed murmurs. Finally the captain said, “Pull down your pants and get on all fours.”
The boy pulled down his pants around his plaid boxer shorts and assumed the position, thinking they were going to spank him.
“Hey!” yelled one of the boys, “boxers off too!” But the captain put a restraining hand on his arm. “No, let him be. That’s good for now.”
“Turn and face the wall,” said the captain. The boy did so, and as he did he heard someone rummaging around through the sports equipment. In a few moments he felt the crowd gather back around him.
Something long, skinny, and hard was rubbed along the crack of his ass through the fabric of his boxers. He heard the football players chuckle and looked behind him. One of them was pressing the shaft of a golf club against his crack. The boy felt cold. Were they going to hit him with the club?
Then the football player, a dirty-blond boy, pulled the golf club away and turned it, pressing the top of the grip against the boy’s ass. Through his boxers, the boy could feel the thick handle pushing against his anus. He squeezed his eyes shut as the club was pushed sharply forward. He could feel it start to slip past the ring of muscle, taking the fabric of his boxer shorts with it. But the tension of the fabric kept it from actually going in.
The dirty-blond boy eased off the pressure on the golf club, then pushed again, repeating the motion over and over. In this way he teased at the boy’s anus lightly, constantly threatening but never quite entering it.
Then suddenly the pressure disappeared altogether. The boy was surprised for a moment, then felt hands on him, drawing his boxers down. The pressure returned, this time against his naked ass. He flinched as he felt the cool metal come to rest at his entrance.
For a while, the motion of the golf club continued as before, teasing back and forth, pressing as though about to enter, just barely beginning to push into him, then withdrawing. It continued, back and forth, back and forth, until suddenly, without warning, the football player gave a mighty shove. Several inches of the shaft disappeared into the boy, causing him to cry out.
The assembled circle laughed at the boy’s cry, and the football player began to wiggle the shaft around, moving it in small circles within the boy.
“Get another one,” the boy heard vaguely over the rush of blood in his ears. He was only really aware of something going on when he felt hands on his body turning him over to lie on his back. Now that he was facing his tormentors, he could see one of the other football players approaching with a golf bag. The clubs within made a clanking sound as he set it on the ground.
“Spread your legs,” the captain ordered. A little frightened, the boy parted his legs, feeling the shaft of the golf club shift inside him as he did so. “Wider!” barked the captain, and several of the football players grabbed his legs, yanking them apart until they were nearly perpendicular to the boy’s body. The boy’s muscles protested at this, but he stifled a cry.
While two football players held his legs open, several others crouched over his rear, grabbing at his butt cheeks and spreading them widely, exposing his impaled asshole. The football player who had brought the golf bag knelt in front of the boy, between his legs, and pulled another club out of the bag.
The boy felt the hands pull at the skin around his anus, stretching him open, and then felt the thick hardness of another golf club being pushed into him. He gritted his teeth as it scraped against the one already there, pushing into him until the grip was completely inside. Then, with hardly even a pause, there was another entering him, and another, and another. By the fifth club, the boy was crying with the pain of being so widely stretched.
The boy who had been pushing the clubs into him grabbed all of the protruding shafts in one hand and began to yank them back and forth. The boy on the ground was sensible to nothing but pain, until suddenly one of the handles pushed against a particular spot inside of him that made his nerves fire and his entire body shudder. His face heated in shame when he realized that he was growing hard from being penetrated by the clubs. The football players saw this and laughed at him.
The spot was hit several more times before the clubs were finally withdrawn. Lying empty on the floor, legs spread, the boy was still painfully hard. He saw the captain crouching next to his face.
“You liked that, boy?” he said. “You want some more?”
All the boy could do was toss his head wildly. Even he was not sure whether the response was a yes or a no. The captain chuckled. “Turn over,” the captain ordered. “Show us your ass.”
With some effort, the boy flipped himself over. He turned his head to the side so he could still see what would be done to him next. He was confused as he saw one of the football players picking up a large cloth bag, emptying its contents—golf balls, it appeared—into a metal bucket. Then someone else picked up one of the golf clubs and held it straight up. The bag was draped over the golf club so that the corner pointed up over the tip of the shaft. Then it was pulled tight against the club.
As the boy watched, they positioned the tip of the club, now covered in cloth, at his entrance and shoved it in. The thin, cool fabric felt strange sliding into him, but not painful, not after the earlier stretch of five clubs at once. The football player continued to push until the shaft of the golf club was nearly a foot inside him. Then, holding the bag steady, he pulled only the club out of the boy, leaving him lying on the floor with the fabric of the bag hanging out of him.
“Understand,” said the captain, “normally we’d like to do this raw. But we’d have some explaining to do if you showed up at the hospital ‘cause you couldn’t get the golf balls out of your ass.” As he said this, the football players brought forward the bucket of balls and began to push them one by one inside the boy. Everyone seemed eager to try, and there were many hands shoving the balls into him. The boy squirmed around the strange feeling of the small round objects. The sensation was muffled by the cloth, but still easily felt.
Finally, he began to feel a strain when each new golf ball was added. The bag was filling inside him, and it was beginning to press against him from the inside. He whimpered at the discomfort, but the football players continued to push the golf balls one by one through his anus. Finally it became painful and the boy cried out.
“Enough,” said the captain. “Pull it out.”
The boy barely had time to brace himself as strong hands hefted the sides of the bag and began to pull sharply. Other arms grabbed the boy so that he would not be dragged backwards. The boy cried out again at the oddest sensation as the force and pressure caused the golf balls to shoot out of him, clonking against one another in the bag as they were forcefully expelled from his anus.
The bag had to be pulled out relatively slowly, giving the golf balls inside him time to shift around as they popped out of his ass. Whenever it was yanked too swiftly, sometimes two or more golf balls would come out right next to each other, stretching the boy painfully.
Finally the bag was pulled free, and the boy saw to his dismay that it was not nearly as large as he had thought it was. Though it had felt like hundreds of golf balls inside him, it was probably less than twenty.
“I think we’re almost done here boys, yeah?” said the captain. The football players murmured their general agreement. “Alright. So what do we want to put in him while he does us?”
The football players bent their heads together, murmuring, and finally seemed to come to some sort of agreement. One of them left the group and waded through the sports equipment towards the back.
“We use these for training sometimes,” said the captain. “I think some of the gym classes use them too.”
The boy watched with mixed dread and curiosity as the football player finally found what he was looking for and came back into the light. It was an orange road pylon. The boy’s eyes widened.
“Stretch him,” said the captain, and the boy once again felt multiple hands on his ass, spreading his cheeks and his anus wide open. The pylon was placed at the entrance to his asshole and shoved roughly in, stretching the boy widely at the point of penetration. The more they pushed in, the wider the boy was stretched. When they finally stopped pressing it in, his asshole had been opened to nearly four inches in diameter.
“Now,” said the captain. “You suck or jerk all of us off. And don’t let that thing come out of our ass while you’re doing it.”
The boy tried to sit up, but found it difficult around the awkward shape of the pylon protruding from his ass. Several boys grabbed his arms and hauled him to his feet.
The act of standing nearly expelled the slick pylon from his anus completely. The boy staggered backward and nearly fell, landing in a sitting position on top of the pylon. He cried out as the force of the landing thrust the cone deeply inside him. Amused by this sitting position, the football players crowded around him, their dicks hanging out of their pants, ready for service.
The boy did not want to have to use his mouth again, and reached out one hand in each direction to jerk the football players off. Each hand connected with flesh almost immediately, and the circle of bodies pressed in tighter as the boy began to stroke their shafts.
Even as his fingers worked the flesh, however, someone else appeared in front of him and stood with his cock hanging in front of the boy’s face. “I want you to suck me,” he said.
Realizing that he was not going to get out of a repeat of his earlier performance, the boy opened his mouth and let the football player push his cock past his lips and into the warm, moist cavern. The boy held his head as steady as he could as the football player thrust into his face. One of the young men whose cocks he was holding came, ejaculating on the side of his face.
As soon as the football player who came moved back, another stepped forward to replace him and pushed his cock against the boy’s fingers. The boy tried to concentrate on working the penises in both his hands at the same time; he didn’t have to think much about the one in his mouth, because the young men there seemed to prefer to hold his head steady and thrust down his throat rather than letting him suck it himself.
Twelve cocks came in his mouth or on his face before the night was over, and even more came in his hands; the football players were resilient, and many, after being jacked off, were shortly eager again to feel his mouth. The sight of the boy, sitting on the pylon that impaled his ass, fingering a cock in each hand, with a thick member sticking into his mouth was so erotic that many of the football players who came were ready again within moments. When they were finally done, the boy’s head was so covered in cum that it overflowed down his shoulders, chest, and back, and dripped from the ends of his hair.
Finally they all withdrew and the boy, still seated on the pylon, saw the captain place a bucket of water, a rag, and a mop by the door. “We’re going,” he said. “You can leave once you’ve cleaned this place up. Clean the floor and the equipment. No traces. Provided no one finds out about this, you’re in.” The football players began to file out the door. As they left, one turned back to the boy and winked. “See you in the locker room tomorrow.”