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City of Bears - Series 2: Special Delivery Episode 2: Building Team Spirit

by Wesley Bracken Commissioned by Khorax

*****WARNING***** This story contains graphic depictions of raunch and watersports. If any of these fetishes disturb you (and they probably should) I advise that you read no further. This is a work of fiction, and the behaviors depicted in this piece should probably stay that way. *****WARNING*****

"Alright boars! Get your butts over here. We have some things to discuss," the coach shouted from one side of the locker room. School had just ended for the day, and the senior varsity football team of South Hill High, "home of the boars," had just arrived and were about to get changed for practice. The sudden appearance by the coach surprised them, but as he came over, what shocked them even more was what he was wearing, or rather, what he wasn't wearing. He had on a practice jersey, first of all, something they'd never seen him wear before, and besides that, only a grimy looking jockstrap, his ass exposed for all of them to see as they gathered on the bleachers facing him, wondering what this was all about.

The more observant members noticed a few other oddities about the coach's appearance. First was the fact that the man was quite a bit hairier than he had been, with a thick goatee which hadn't adorned his face the day before. His arms were bristling, and when he lifted an arm to stretch a bit, they saw a massive amount of pit hair. A good amount of hair sprung out around the edges of the jock's pouch as well, but most of the team was trying very hard not to look there. Second, a few noticed that the coach was in much better shape. He wasn't a young guy by any means, about fifty, not that he'd ever tell any of them his exact age. He'd had a decent potbelly, and was always a bit out of breath after practices. Now however, his gut had suddenly disappeared, replaced by a hard set of abs. The rest of him had grown quite a bit as well, his arms and delts now well defined and bulging, and his quads as well, but again, not many of the players were looking there. His ass was particularly well shaped, one of the running backs noted, blushing a bit, wondering why he had thought that at all. None of them noticed that the coach was also covered with a sheen of sweat, as though he had just finished a lengthy run. The players on the benches in the front row did occasionally catch a whiff of the coach's sweaty odor though, but as he started his talk, they didn't notice it, nor notice their cocks begin to stiffen in their shorts.

One player held back a bit, the team captain and quarterback, Barry. He was a hot shot jock, dating a new girl every week, and he and the coach had butted heads any number of times this season, which wouldn't have surprised anyone. Barry had never had much discipline in his life, growing up on the poor side of town with alcoholic parents, but he had three things going for him. First, his looks. Barry was as vain as they came--obsessed with his image and body, and spent most of his time at the school gym trying to get rid of every bit of fat on his body, and it showed. He might not have all of the expensive clothes from the best stores, but he still managed to bang any girl in the school he wanted, helped along by the second thing, his attitude. Calling it charisma was too kind--it wasn't that Barry knew how to deal with people, rather, he knew how to make people want to deal with him, regardless of the fact that he was generally an asshole to everyone he met. He was a natural leader who hated authority, and this wouldn't have been much help if not for number three, his skills. He was a natural athlete, calm and collected on the field, and always refusing to lose. In spite of this, he and the coach hated each other, and the fact that the coach was now standing in front of them in a fucking jockstrap and little else told Barry that the old man had either finally lost it, or was going to make a pass on all of them like the fag he probably was. Either way, he had little interest in paying much attention to what the coach had to say.

When everyone was seated, the coach started his speech, "Alright, I know we've had some rough patches this season, and a few bad losses, so I did some thinking yesterday, and decided that we really need some new ground rules to bring the team together."

The comment got a few snickers from Barry and a few of his close friends, but a sharp glare from the coach cut them off, or at least, everyone other than Barry.

"So, the new rules. First, I went ahead and ordered some new practice uniforms for all of you. They're in your lockers, and you aren't going to be wearing anything else, so get used to them. As a sign of good faith, I will be wearing one too, like I am now."

"Wait, you mean...nothing but a jock and a jersey? Are you fucking serious?" Barry said.

The coach glared again, but Barry stood his ground. "I most certainly am. If you have any comments, you're welcome to come talk to me in my office when I finish. Until then, keep your fucking trap shut!"

The sharpness of the coach's tone made every player a bit uncomfortable, as they looked from coach to Barry and back. Barry stood his ground for a moment, and then stepped back, sulking. He'd certainly be having some words with the coach. He wasn't about to go around looking like a fucking fag.

"Next, there's to be no showering, and no deodorant during practice, or outside of practice. If one of you comes here clean, there'll be hell to pay, and I don't want to smell anything coming off you boars other than sweat, and lots of it, you hear me?" The coach paused for a moment, waiting to see if anyone would talk back, but no one said anything. "Lastly, we're going to be changing up our exercise regimen starting today, with some exercises designed to help build teamwork and trust, alright? Now, get changed, and meet me in the weight room in five."

Still a little confused by what was going on, but for some reason unable to disobey the coach's command, the players all got up, headed to their lockers, and found a small package from some shop called Bear Boutique. Reluctantly, each of them opened them up, pulled out the jock and tank top, and put them on. The jocks didn't even look clean, they realized, and were all a bit stiff. However, they found wearing them surprisingly erotic. The only player who didn't move was Barry, who stayed right where he was, eyes locked with the coach.

"You have something you want to say, Barry?"

"Yeah, I do. This is all fucking fag shit, you know that, right? You get off watching us in our fucking jockstraps? When I tell my parents about this, the school will fucking fire your ass, and lock you up in prison, where you can get some murderer to rape your ass."

The coach didn't say anything in reply, just stomped over to Barry until they were inches away, their chests touching. Barry tried to measure up, and had always remembered being taller than the coach, but now he found himself looking up into the older man's eyes. But...that's the way it should be, right? Barry felt dizzy all of a sudden, and stumbled back, shaking his head. What was going on?"

"My office, now," was all the coach said, and Barry found himself hustling over to the small room, the coach following him close, and shutting the door lowered the shade on the window behind them, shrouding them in the half light. "Now then, I think we can talk more candidly in here," the coach said. Standing behind the young player, he put his hands on Barry's shoulders, kneading his muscles roughly, and Barry let out a quiet moan. He was so close to the coach now, he could smell him, and he smelled so good, like strong, commanding men ought to smell. Barry wanted to smell like that. He leaned back, and felt his back connect with the coach's sweat soaked tank top, feeling the coach's hard cock pushing against Barry's ass.

No. No, he shouldn't be doing this. He pulled away, spun around and backed up, but the room was too small to really get away. He could still smell his coach, and he still wanted him. "What...what are you doing to me?" he muttered.

"You know, for all the trouble you've caused, I have to admit that I admire that independent streak of yours. I was the same way, I admit. Giving my coach a rough time. But the difference between you and me? I knew when to stop. When to shut the fuck up, and do what he told me to do, because he was my coach. My daddy coach, just like I am, isn't that right?"

"Ye...Yes, daddy coach..." Barry murmured. Why was his cock so hard? He took a step closer to the sweaty, muscular man. He wanted to smell him, taste him, serve him. Grow strong and large and hairy like him.

The coach stepped closer as well. "What is it, my little boar? What do you want?"

"I...I don't know, sir...I..." Unable to stop himself, Barry closed the distance between them and buried his face in his coach's chest, rubbing his face against his sweaty body hair, licking as much of it off as he could.

"Here, try this boy," the coach said, and with one hand, maneuvered Barry's face so it was crammed in his arm pit, licking it clean. "Yeah, I think you understand better now, don't you? You're a great team captain. The team looks up to you, follows you, and now you follow me, don't you boy? We're going to have a good team from now on, aren't we, so long as you listen and follow my orders, right?"

Barry was listening, but couldn't respond. His tongue was too busy cleaning off every hair, sucking down every drop of sweat he could find, absorbing his coach's musk. Wishing he could smell so powerful, so manly. The coach put one hand on his head and pushed him lower, Barry sinking to his knees, and started sucking on the pouch of the coach's jockstrap. It tasted rank, but he couldn't stop himself. As he sucked, he could taste the coach's precum soaking through the fabric, and he lapped at it, drinking as much of it as he could. As he did, his dizziness increased, and was joined by a strange heat shooting through his muscles.

"Yeah boy, that's it. Daddy coach's sperm is gonna make you big and strong." He pulled down the jock, allowing Barry access to his cock, which he sucked on as hard as he could. The coach watched the captain's muscles begin to pulse and grow larger as he sucked down the coach's precum. A goatee sprouted around his face, and two trimmed sideburns grew down, his hair becoming shaggy and untrimmed. His neck and shoulders bulged out, and hair sprouted all over his front and back. His pecs grew thick and massive, nipples pressing against the shirt stretched tight across his muscles. The sleeved gave out, unable to withstand the sudden growth of Barry's biceps, and his shorts started splitting as well.

Without warning, the coach pulled his cock out of Barry's mouth, and tucked it back into the jockstrap. "Aw, come on sir, I didn't even get any of the good stuff yet!" Barry moaned, his voice deeper. When he looked up at the coach, he saw that all desire of resistance Barry had had was now gone. All that was left was a massively, muscled brute on his knees, desperate for cock, ready to obey any order coach might have for him, and give one hundred percent on the field and in the bedroom.

"You'll get plenty more of that later Barry, but we got practice now, remember?"

Barry grinned sheepishly, "Oh yeah, I forgot...you know how much I like suckin' your cock, coach."

"I sure do. Now go get changed and head up to the weight room. I'll be up in a second."

Barry beamed, and tromped out of the coach's office and over to his locker, where he pulled out his new jockstrap and jersey. He took a moment to sniff the jock and suck on it for a moment, before pulling it on, the pouch barely able to contain his now massive cock. The jersey was a size too small, stretched tight across his muscular body. He looked at himself in the mirror, rubbing his package with one hand while he sniffed his pit for a moment, before lumbering to the weight room, oblivious to the few teammates remaining in the locker room who had just watched his entire display with some astonishment.

When everyone was assembled in the weight room, the coach led them through their new set of exercises, designed for team building. The team found that the team building component required a lot of close, intimate contact, usually with their faces crammed into another team member's armpit, crotch, or ass crack. Before long, every player had an uncontrollable hard on, and before long, none of them cared, some of the braver ones occasionally lapping at the distended pouches of their teammate's jocks, helpless to resist.

Barry was in his element, and couldn't be happier. The couch would demonstrate each new exercise, using him as his partner, and he took every opportunity to clean lick and smell the coach's body that he could. The other players were not so eager, though a few succumbed to their growing desires and started growing, most of them under the encouragement of the coach or Barry. Others were more resistant. Barry in particular noticed one of the defensive line, a guy named Duke, seemed quite reluctant to participate to his full capacity, something which Barry couldn't even understand. Didn't he like smelling his teammates? Barry certainly did. At the next water break, Barry decided to have a word with Duke and see why he wasn't participating as much as he ought to. That was his job as team captain after all, to help coach keep all the little boars in line, so they could have a good season, and win. Barry liked winning, almost as much as he liked sucking off his coach.

As soon as the coach told them to take a break, Barry saw Duke head for the door, and he followed him as quietly as he could, down the hall and back into the locker room. Inside he saw Duke at his locker, hauling his street clothes out as fast as he could, a look of panic on his face. "Where do you think you're going Duke? Practice ain't half over yet!" Barry said, coming closer.

"Fuck!" Duke shouted, surprised by his team captain's sudden entrance, and backed away from him, "Get the fuck away from me you freak! I don't know what coach did to you, but he fucked you up Barry, don't you remember?"

Barry scrunched up his heavy brow, trying to figure out what Duke was talking about, but saw Duke take off his jock and start pulling on his boxers. He walked over, and ripped the underwear away from him, "Coach said we can only wear our jocks during practice, you know the rules." With both hands, he pulled the fabric apart, tearing them to shreds. "Besides, ya look a lot cuter in the jock, I think." Barry said, and leaned into kiss Duke, but the linebacker recoiled and ducked away as best he could.

"What the fuck, man! Are you a fucking fag now too? I'm getting the fuck out of here!" Duke shouted and tried to run, but Barry caught up with him easily, grabbing onto the back of his jersey.

"You know Duke, I don't think you understand team spirit," Barry said, pulling the large man close to him, and rubbing the pouch of his jock up and down Duke's exposed crack, "So as your team captain, let me show you what that means."

Duke struggled to get away, tackled him and brought him down to the ground. They wrestled for a minute, Duke trying to ignore the team captain's rock hard cock pressing against him. Soon, he realized that his own cock was rock hard as well. Something about the way Barry smelled was simply irresistible. Unable to help himself, Duke ran his tongue along his captain's muscular arm, loving how the hairs scraped against his face, and the taste of rank sweat.

"Yeah, that's more like it. That taste good? You like how your captain tastes? Here, try this." Barry forced Duke's face into his armpit, and after a moment of resistance, Duke let out a low moan and started licking. It smelled awful, he knew that, but still, he needed it. He needed it so badly, he just couldn't stop. "Yeah, just let go Duke, this is what you want, you know that. What you need. Just stop fighting and everything will be alright. When we're finished here, you're going to have the most team spirit of anyone here, I know it."

Duke fought. He fought against the crazy voice in his head telling him this was normal, that this is what he wanted. He hauled his mouth away from Barry's pit and shoved the large man off of him. "No, I'm getting the fuck out of here!" he said, and scrambled for the door, but as he came around a corner, he ran flat out into a solid brick wall of muscle which sent him stumbling back onto his ass. Looking up, he saw that he had run directly into the coach.

"Duke, you're late for practice. And where's your jock, boar? You know the rules about uniforms. Get dressed and get to the field this fuckin' minute!"

The urge to obey was so strong, it was all Duke could to to stay rooted in place. He couldn't give in. He had to get out, get away. The coach glared at him, but Duke didn't even look at him.

"You deaf boy? Get the fuck up!"

Duke again refused to move. Barry, meanwhile, had gotten up and come around the corner. Seeing the coach had arrived, he said, "Sorry coach, Duke and I were just having a chat. Seems that he doesn't like our new team building exercises. I was just trying to get him to go with the program, ya know?"

Still glaring, the coach stepped up to Duke, pressing his jock into the linebacker's face. "Lick it," was all he said. Both Barry and the coach could see Duke trying to resist, but the smell overcame him. He stuck his tongue out and lapped at the jock, but both could see that Duke's heart wasn't in it. "You know boy," the coach continued, "Maybe you don't understand what's going on here. See, I control this team. I own this team, really. And that means I own you, and I own Barry here, and every one of you sexy, fuckin' boars. That means you do what I say, when I say it, and that you like it. I have a feeling you're a bit hung up on that last one, is that right? That means that you still don't think I own you. How about we change that? You know how a man shows he owns another man? Here, let me show you."

As Duke continued licking the pouch, the coach began pissing through the fabric, a little at first, but Duke couldn't help getting it on his tongue. Soon, it was dribbling out, down onto Duke's chest and belly. It smelled even stronger than the coach's sweat, and the coach began moving the pouch, soaking every inch of Duke's face, the piss running down all over him. The odor overpowered Duke's mind, filled up every sense, crowding out all of his notions of rebellion. The coach owned him, and he liked that. He liked that a lot. He could feel his head emptying of everything he'd cared about, of thoughts and memories, until all that was left was the coach, piss, and covering himself with as much of the coach's scent as he could. And football of course. But mostly the coach.

"See Duke, your problem is that you think too much. Even out on the field, you're always thinking about the next play, the next game, when you should be focused on the here and now. Well, I don't think that's going to be a problem anymore, do you?"

The coach finished pissing and pulled his jock away from Duke's face, who pursued it like a calf chasing it's mother's teat. A bit of drool dribbled down the side of his wide open mouth, the only thought it his head was need. He needed coach's piss and cum. He needed to be covered in sweat. He needed to obey. "Please, I...I needs it..." were all the words he could put together to try and express himself.

"Well first, how about apologizing to your team captain? He was only trying to help you, and instead you fought with him. Barry, go ahead and bend over. I want to see Duke here kiss your ass."

Barry bent over as ordered, and Duke felt himself drawn to sweaty crack like a moth to a flame, and began slobbering all over it, getting as much of the nasty crack clean as he could. He was a good team player, he'd show them. He could clean an ass better than anyone else on the team. He started probing Barry's hole with his tongue, hearing the team captain groan in pleasure. Yeah, he had so much team spirit now, Duke thought, and that filled his simple mind with incredible joy, urging him to lick and drill even deeper.

The coach came up behind Duke, and hauled him up, so he was standing, but bent at the waist with his face still crammed in Barry's ass. The coach pulled his jock to one side and started rubbing his cock up and down Duke's crack, lubing up the hole with his precum, and feeling the big linebacker shiver with anticipation. He gave Duke's chubby cheeks a squeeze or two, before saying, "Yeah, you're a good chubby linebacker, but I think you can get bigger, what do you think, Barry?"

"Fuck yeah, make him a fucking nasty, fatass pig sir!" Barry said. Duke's heart leapt with excitement, as he felt coach's cock work in past his sphincter. The coach was rough, slamming Duke's face deep into Barry's crack, which only made the fat linebacker hotter. The captain turned around and offered his jock clad crotch, which Duke started sucking on instead, relishing the taste of his team captain's sweaty cock and balls. Barry allowed him to pull out the shaft, and Duke started sucking on it, happily plugged at both ends. He could feel the coach pumping hard, and after a minute or so, he started shooting a massive amount of cum up Duke's ass. His stomach grumbled, and began to inflate, piling on pounds of fat all over his body. With both hands, he started playing with his massive nipples, feeling the jersey he was still wearing pull tight across his big man boobs and huge gut. Unable to control himself, he felt spunk start shooting out of his cock, landing in a big puddle on the floor. Seeing the fat linebacker spunk himself, Barry started cumming, making Duke grow even larger, but packing on quite a bit of muscle underneath his fat, giving Duke the look of a off season powerlifter.

When the coach and Barry finished, they pulled out and allowed Duke to stand up. He hadn't gained much in height, but he was now so big he'd have a hard time fitting through some doorways. He was quite hairy as well, with stubbly cheeks and hair sprouting anywhere it could possibly grow. Any bit of intelligence had fled from his eyes, and the big lug started groping his crotch, lifted one arm and took a deep whiff of his pit. The coach walked over and retrieved Duke's jock, brought it over and began mopping up the puddles of piss and cum on the ground with it. "I got a present for ya, Duke. You going to be a good little boar for your daddy coach now?"

Duke grinned wide and nodded his head quickly, then got down, grabbed the jock from coach's foot, and began sucking on it as hard he could, eager to please his coach. When he couldn't get anymore piss or cum from it, he stood up and pulled on his now too small jock. "Now then, he have a practice to get back to, right boars?"

"Yeah!" Barry and Duke shouted, and jostled past each other, racing to be the first to reach the practice field for scrimmage practice. There, they found the rest of the team trying to deny what was going on, but Barry knew they'd all get with the program soon enough. This team was going to have the most spirit of any school in the whole city, and it was going to take them all the way to the championship. Looking around, especially at the now massive Duke, sniffing his pits like a beast, his cock obviously hard as a rock in his too small jock, he could see that some of them were nervous, but that was no matter. He was going to make sure that not a single one got away. They were a team--and teams stick together, no matter what.