I am a healthy European man who enjoys using fit submissive males. Along the way I enjoy helping submissive males and the men they serve better understand each other. Re-posted images deleted upon request.
I can’t believe I let Coach fuck me. I can’t believe I let him fuck me like I was some bitch. He'd promised me that everything would be okay, but it had hurt way worse than I thought it would. And Coach wouldn’t stop, not even when I told him how much he was hurting me, not even when I begged him to. He just kept fucking me.
He had told me that, even though I was only a freshman, I was already his favorite boy on the team. He had told me I was special, and that letting him fuck me was a way we could bond even closer. But I didn’t feel special, not when he was power-driving his big Man-cock into my ass. Not when he was shooting off a massive load of his ball-juice up my asshole. Not when he told me I now had a pussy between my legs. I didn’t feel special at all. I felt dirty….and soiled…and used.
And when I told Coach how I felt, he laughed at me. He told me it was too late to have second thoughts, that I was a faggot now, with a pussy between my legs, a pussy he’d be fucking again, whenever he got the urge. And he’d done just that – he fucked me again. And again. And again. Coach fucked me all night long and, when he finally let me go in the morning, my poor ass was spewing his spent ball-scuzz all over the place.
As I was leaving, Coach let me know that he wanted to see me again tonight, that I’ll be spending most of my nights with him from now on, that I’m his bitch now, his faggot boy-bitch. And I don’t want that. I don’t.
But what can I do? Coach says if I don’t do exactly what he says, he’ll tell the other boys on the team about me, about how I let Coach fuck me, how I squealed like a girl when he rammed his big dick up my ‘pussy,’ how I boned up and shot my own load of scuzz as he rutted away inside my ‘boycunt,’ how I even cleaned off his dirty dick with my mouth after he was finished fucking me. And it’s all true. All of it.
And now I’m trapped. I can’t let my teammates find out that I let Coach fuck me, that I let him turn my asshole into a cunt, that I let him use me like a bitch, over and over again. I just can’t. I don’t want to spend the night with Coach again, letting him fuck me like I’m some faggot. I don’t want to become Coach’s full-time faggot fuck-bitch. I don’t want to, but I’m going to. I don’t have any other choice.
Jeez, college certainly hasn’t turned out like I thought it would. And neither have I. Neither have I.
I can’t believe I let Coach fuck me. I can’t believe I let him fuck me like I was some bitch. He'd promised me that everything would be okay, but it had hurt way worse than I thought it would. And Coach wouldn’t stop, not even when I told him how much he was hurting me, not even when I begged him to. He just kept fucking me.
He had told me that, even though I was only a freshman, I was already his favorite boy on the team. He had told me I was special, and that letting him fuck me was a way we could bond even closer. But I didn’t feel special, not when he was power-driving his big Man-cock into my ass. Not when he was shooting off a massive load of his ball-juice up my asshole. Not when he told me I now had a pussy between my legs. I didn’t feel special at all. I felt dirty….and soiled…and used.
And when I told Coach how I felt, he laughed at me. He told me it was too late to have second thoughts, that I was a faggot now, with a pussy between my legs, a pussy he’d be fucking again, whenever he got the urge. And he’d done just that – he fucked me again. And again. And again. Coach fucked me all night long and, when he finally let me go in the morning, my poor ass was spewing his spent ball-scuzz all over the place.
As I was leaving, Coach let me know that he wanted to see me again tonight, that I’ll be spending most of my nights with him from now on, that I’m his bitch now, his faggot boy-bitch. And I don’t want that. I don’t.
But what can I do? Coach says if I don’t do exactly what he says, he’ll tell the other boys on the team about me, about how I let Coach fuck me, how I squealed like a girl when he rammed his big dick up my ‘pussy,’ how I boned up and shot my own load of scuzz as he rutted away inside my ‘boycunt,’ how I even cleaned off his dirty dick with my mouth after he was finished fucking me. And it’s all true. All of it.
And now I’m trapped. I can’t let my teammates find out that I let Coach fuck me, that I let him turn my asshole into a cunt, that I let him use me like a bitch, over and over again. I just can’t. I don’t want to spend the night with Coach again, letting him fuck me like I’m some faggot. I don’t want to become Coach’s full-time faggot fuck-bitch. I don’t want to, but I’m going to. I don’t have any other choice.
Jeez, college certainly hasn’t turned out like I thought it would. And neither have I. Neither have I.