The Telemachus Story Archive

My Jock
Part 3
By Stud Stealer

Previous page

“You should go,” I said, finishing what was left of my whiskey. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah,” the blond boy muttered.

He was still shirtless, his muscular torso gleaming with sweat and the remnants of his own cum. He had wiped it off a little, but you could still see exactly where his seed had hit him.

After he put on his shirt, Jake obviously loitered again. I knew exactly what he was thinking, but that wasn’t going to happen yet. He was gonna have to earn that right.

“You’re not sleeping here, boy,” I said. The jock’s face became even redder, and he avoided my eyes. Now that his horniness was gone, there was only room for embarrassment.

“For now, this has been enough. Can you drive home?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

He finally grabbed the pair of Nikes, and I walked him to the front door. Just before he’d step outside, I put a hand on his beefy shoulder and stopped him. Jake froze, and looked at me with an insecure expression on that handsome face of his. It was quite fun to think that in that exact moment, he probably felt cum seeping out of his sore asshole.

“Just one last thing,” I said. “We’ll see each other again, soon. I’ll call you, this time.”

He gulped, then nodded. I grinned.

“And now that you’re starting to accept who you really are, I think it’s time for some changes. I don’t want you wearing those boxer-brief things anymore, ever. You’re going to wear only a jockstrap, starting this week.”

This sparked a hint of resistance in him, I noticed. Being told how to live his day-to-day life was not something he was used to.

“How do you expect me to explain that to the guys, in the locker room?” he said, “Or my roommate? Everyone will see.”

I chuckled, and patted him on the back. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out, boy. Now, you better get going. The sun’s gonna come up soon.”

[Jake’s POV]

I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

It felt like something inside me had changed, as if someone had scooped my brain right out my skull and replaced it with their own. This wasn’t me, I kept telling myself, this wasn’t me - but if not me, then who?

Ever since I met that man in the woods, last month, I’d been feeling different. Strange. Weird. The way he talked, touched me, treated me; I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I had no idea why I ever decided to go there in the first place. Everyone in town knew that was where guys - mostly older men - went to find other guys and hook up. It had been nothing more than a sudden impulse, a split-second decision. I was driving past that spot, on my way back from practice, and I just felt myself pull over to the parking lot. 

Curiosity had taken over my body.

As soon as I got there, I saw him. Big, bearded. Probably in his late fifties. I wanted to turn around and run away, but his eyes were locked on mine and kept me at bay. I didn’t know what it was. Something about this guy just petrified me.

I stood there looking like an idiot while he asked me my name, carefully approaching. It was like I’d just eaten a brownie, or popped a fucking Xanax, or something; I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but just stand there while this man felt me up and kissed me.

I don’t even fully remember how it happened. Suddenly I was on my knees, looking up at this imposing stranger, getting told to suck his cock. And I did. I actually did. He told me to give him a blowjob and I just fucking did it.

I don’t know what happened then, but next thing I know I’m in the guy’s car, shirtless, and he’s tweaking my nipples. My dick was rock-hard during all of it. 

At that point, I was so damn high on adrenaline I probably would’ve done anything he told me - had it not been for the fact he mentioned football.

That struck something within me. Suddenly I was back, back in control of my own body, back to the Jake I knew. And I freaked the hell out. He knew me; my name, my team, probably even the fucking dorm I stayed at. He knew exactly who I was, and I’d just sucked his dick in the woods. Within a split-second, I felt like my life was crumbling all around me, my dreams of playing in the NFL completely shattered by one impulsive decision.

And he kept calling me a fag, kept telling me how much I’d liked sucking his dick. So I got angry, and he kicked me out of his car. Then he just drove off with my shoes still in the trunk.

I don’t know why I called him, a month later. I really don’t.

It wasn’t like the shoes were of any real importance. They were my old pair of Nikes, worn-out and pretty much ready for the dump. I easily could’ve done without them.

But I did call him, and I did go over to his house. As soon as I saw him, I was back to being this stranger, submissive and unable to think straight. His words were like knives cutting through my brain, and I couldn’t pull myself away. Long story short, he fucked me. He had me naked on all fours, and he fucked my ass to shreds. I let him stick his boner in my ass without a condom and shoot a load inside of me.

And I liked it.

That was the worst of it all; I actually liked everything he did to me. It was extremely painful, but I liked it. I liked the pain, the embarrassment, the fucking mortification of having an older man treat me like his bitch. I had shot my load without even touching my cock, something I didn’t even know was possible. That man was ruining me. I hated it, but I liked it.

Thankfully my roommate was asleep when I got home, that night. My underwear was pretty much soaked with that man’s cum, which had continued to leak out of me during my ride back to the dorm. I ended up throwing those boxer-briefs away - made sure to bury them underneath some other trash, just in case - and tried to clean myself up as best as I could before going to bed. I was completely drained, and as soon as I lay down, I fell into a dreamless sleep.

After that, I tried my best to forget about the whole thing, but it wasn’t easy. During lectures, I often found myself zoning out and going back to that place in the woods, or that night at his house. The things he’d said to me echoed in my head. My cock always grew hard in my pants, just from thinking about it. I had to make sure my laptop was covering my entire lap, otherwise people would be able to see the massive tent in my shorts.

It also didn’t help that I was only wearing a jockstrap underneath.

See, those things are supposed to keep everything nice and tight in the pouch, but whenever I got real hard, my boner would just poke out at the top. I was just too big for that thing. It was fucking embarrassing. 

So embarrassing, in fact, that my dick would get even harder.

Again, I don’t know why I started wearing only jockstraps. I really don’t. It wasn’t like that man could check up on me every single day, and even if he could, why would I do what he wanted? Why the hell would I let a strange, older man tell me what to do?

It added a whole new layer of embarrassment and secrecy to my life. I had to wait for Joe (my roommate) to be in the bathroom, or something, before I could get dressed. On campus, I was constantly afraid my shorts would fall down, or someone would pull them down, and everyone would be able to see my bare ass.

In the locker rooms, I always had to make sure I was the first to arrive before practice, and the last one to leave afterwards. The guys couldn’t see that I’d already been wearing a jockstrap, and that I didn’t change back into normal underwear when I went home. If anyone found out, I’d be fucking dead.

But maybe… maybe that’s exactly why I did it. 

Just the thought of someone finding out, no matter how mortifying that would be, seemed to turn me on. I knew I was probably fucked in the head for feeling like that, but I couldn’t help it. By wearing that jockstrap, I was constantly reminded of that man, and how he had humiliated me. I was constantly reminded of what kinda sick fucking pervert I was becoming.

Another thing that didn’t make life easier for me was the fact that winter started to get closer. The colder it got, the more I would feel the wind on my bare ass. Especially the first couple of days after… after I’d gotten fucked, it was almost unbearable to go outside. The ice-cold wind on my sore asshole had me constantly bouncing between feeling uncomfortable and feeling horny.

My friends asked me if I was okay several times, as we walked around on campus; most of the time, I was able to hide it pretty well, but every now and then a gasp would escape my throat as a gust of wind hit me. Luckily, I could just laugh it off, and they didn’t ask any further.

On the field, Coach seemed to notice something was up, too.

At one point, he even asked me to see him in his office after practice had finished.

“Anything you need to tell me, son?” he asked, looking concerned. “That wasn’t the greatest performance, out there. I expect better of you.”

“N-no, Coach,” I muttered. “Just… some personal stuff.”

“Well, you’d better get your head back in the game. We need you at your best, the coming weeks. There’s some important games coming up.”

“Yes, Coach. I’ll deal with it,” I said. “You can count on me.”

Since I was basically hard the whole time, I started jerking off a whole lot more than before. Joe was out with his girlfriend a lot, so whenever I was alone, I could just lock the door and bust a quick nut. I jerked off when I was in the shower, when I was supposed to study, and when I was lying in bed.

Even when Joe was there, I’d just wait for him to fall asleep and try to make as little sound as possible.

I couldn’t help it. My entire life, I’d just muddled along, barely ever even thinking about sex. I’d been with a couple of girls, of course, but those were just drunk hook-ups. Nothing that really got me hard when thinking about it.

But then I met this man, and everything got turned upside down. It was like my body was trying to make up for all those years of boredom. I was hornier than I’d ever been, and there didn’t seem to be an end to my arousal.

Three weeks passed, and I was getting more and more eager every day. 

I kept my phone with me at all times, just in case he would call. I thought about calling him, at some point, but I knew he probably wouldn’t even answer. He’d said that he’d call me, after all. He seemed like a man who would keep his word.

Sure enough, he did keep his word. It only took way longer than I expected.

Almost five weeks after that night at his house, my phone rang. I was still in my room, getting ready to go to class, stuffing some books into my bag. I immediately recognized the number, and picked up as quickly as I could. Thankfully Joe had already left.

“Hello?” I said, sounding a whole lot more nervous than I would’ve liked.

“Hello, boy,” his voice sounded in my ear. “I’m at work, at the moment. But I could use a distraction. I’ll text you the address.”

For a moment, I was taken aback - he wanted me to come to his actual job, in clear daylight?

“I-I got class,” I said. He just scoffed.

“As I said, I’ll text you the address. I expect you to be here in twenty minutes.”

With that, he hung up.

[Master’s POV]

Exactly eighteen minutes after our call, someone knocked on my office door. 

I told them to come in, and couldn’t suppress a grin as the big linebacker appeared before me. His long golden hair was tied up in a little tail, and he was wearing a tight t-shirt that perfectly showed every inch of his muscular torso.

He looked pretty as ever.

Jake’s cheeks lit up as he saw me.

“Hey,” he said, awkwardly closing the door behind him. It was so lovely to see him struggle with the uncomfortable air in the room. He probably wasn’t used to getting this nervous around anyone.

“Hello, boy,” I said, playing with a pen. “Made it past the receptionists, I see?”

“Yeah. Should really do something about your security. I just said I had an appointment with you, and they let me through.”

“Oh? I don’t remember ever giving you my name?”

“N-no, I… eh, I looked it up. With your address,” he admitted.

I grinned. Maybe he wasn’t as stupid as I thought, after all. I told him to come closer, and he did. However, I didn’t tell him to take a seat at my desk. Seats were for real people. He was far less than that.

“Clever boy,” I said, looking his beautiful body up and down. His bulging muscles filled the shirt perfectly, and his legs looked especially thick in the grey sweatpants he was wearing. I couldn’t wait to have that body back in my hands.

“You look good.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled. His face had already gotten a little redder.

“Have you done as I told you? Only wearing jockstraps?”

The big jock nodded. “Yeah,” he said. I raised an eyebrow, and he quickly corrected himself. 

“I-I mean, yes. Yes, sir.”

My smile widened. He hadn’t forgotten his place. 

“Show me, then,” I said. “Prove it.”

The handsome college boy got even redder, and he frowned. 

“H-here?” Jake stammered, “Right now? What if someone walks in?”

“Then they’d walk in on those beautiful, round buns of yours, boy. I’m sure they’d be overjoyed to see such a delicious ass.”

He clenched his jaw, and threw me an annoyed look. After a couple of moments of hesitation, the jock sighed and pulled down his sweatpants. He hadn’t been lying. A white jockstrap adorned his thick thighs, and as expected, the pouch was already starting to bulge.

“Gorgeous,” I chuckled. “Come closer, Jakey. Let me get a better look at that.”

The muscular linebacker did as he was told. My nose caught a whiff of his wonderful scent, and I felt my own boner grow in my pants. I grabbed the pouch on his jock, and pulled it down a little. Soon enough, his huge cock jumped up, its head impatiently poking out of the skimpy underwear. I took the glans between two fingers, and made the boy gasp aloud.

“Missed me, huh?” I grinned. Jake didn’t respond, but his big puppy eyes said enough. He was completely under my spell.

“How did it feel, walking around with your butt exposed like that? Only one, thin layer protecting your fucked hole from the outside world?”

“Cold,” the stud muttered, and I laughed. “B-but… hot, also. It… i-it t-turned me on. I dunno why.”

I was slowly rubbing my thumb over the head of his massive tool, making him moan and gasp softly with every motion. 

“Of course it turned you on,” I said. “You’re a pervert, Jakey. I bet your cock was rock-hard the whole time, with every gust of wind on your ass. Trying to hide it from your roommate, your friends. Thinking of how embarrassing it would be if they found out you were always wearing such a slutty jock.”

I could see on his face how much my words were turning him on, hitting exactly the right strings every time. He was so fucking easy to read.

“It felt exciting, didn’t it? Always just one layer of clothing away from being exposed as the faggot that you are.”

Jake winced a little at that word. He clearly still hated being called that, but he had learned enough not to protest. I let go of his fat dick - much to the boy’s disappointment - and told him to take off his shirt. He was reluctant, still. We were in a much riskier environment, of course, a busy office building instead of some remote spot in the woods or the safety of my home. There was a real possibility of someone walking into my office at any moment, and he knew that.

Regardless, the linebacker seemed to trust me. Such a stupid thing to do.

He peeled the tight t-shirt off his bulging torso, and handed it to me with his sweatpants. There he was in all his glory, standing half-naked in an older man’s office when he was supposed to be in class. Somehow, he looked even better than last time.

“Been working out more, boy?” I asked, feeling up his rippling muscles. Jake’s face was as bright red as ever, but I could tell he was pleased I had noticed.

“Y-yeah, been doing abs more,” he said. “And, eh, squats.”

I chuckled, and gave his fat ass a good slap. The noise resounded in the room, and probably even to the rooms adjacent. I hadn’t thought the jock’s face could get any redder, but it did.

“I can tell,” I said. “You’re a very good boy, Jakey. Wanted to look your best for me, huh?”

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. I slapped his bare ass again, and he groaned a little. A drop of precum escaped from his urethra, slowly sliding down his rock-hard cock.

“Let me reward you for that,” I said.

Something twinkled in his brown eyes. Maybe he thought I would finally make him cum, for once. I bet that was what he’d been dreaming about for weeks. Lying in bed, horny and alone. Dreaming of his newfound Master.

Unfortunately for him, I simply undid my belt, and told him to get to his knees. The twinkle disappeared as quickly as it had come.

“B-but… I thought you said reward,” Jake mumbled.

“My cock is your reward, boy,” I said, showing him my huge boner. “A fag like you should be grateful for being able to taste a real man.”

With an annoyed expression on his pretty face, the linebacker got down on his knees and enclosed a hand around my shaft. Before he tried to take my dick in his mouth, I slapped his face, and he threw me a furious look.

“What the fuck?”

“Were you raised by pigs, boy? I’m giving you a reward,” I said, slapping my boner against his handsome, angry face. “What do we say when we are given something?”

His eyes were shooting fire, and he clenched his jaw. 

“Thank you,” Jake spat. “Sir.”


I was addicted to that look of hatred on him. 

“Being allowed to suck your dick, sir.”

I grinned, and finally let him take my dick between his lips. The big linebacker obediently got to work, slowly taking it inch by inch, until almost my entire boner had disappeared in his mouth. I was impressed; he must’ve secretly been practicing his deep-throating skills on a banana, I figured.

“Good boy,” I said, petting the beautiful jock as he gave me a wonderful blowjob.

He still gagged every now and then, of course, but overall he was doing amazing. I let myself succumb to the pleasure for a good fifteen minutes or so, just taking in the sight and enjoying the feelings my boy’s throat were giving me. I could tell how much the blond adonis had missed this.

Then someone knocked on my office door.

Jake froze. His puppy eyes shot open and he looked at me in panic, absolutely terrified. It was a very enjoyable sight, I have to admit; the big, muscular athlete, half-naked with my dick in his mouth, petrified and looking at his superior for help. Michigan’s defense hero caught with a dick in his mouth.

Without a word, I pushed the stud under my desk. He took my cock out of his mouth, but I slapped it against his face a couple of times and forced him to keep sucking. Before he could protest at all, I told the person at the door to come in.

Someone from the Sales department, whose name I didn’t recall. He wanted to talk to me about some files.

“If you have the time?” he asked.

“Of course,” I said, “Please, take a seat.”

Fortunately for Jake, the desk was closed off at the other side. The man had no idea there was a famous college fag half-naked between my legs, currently sucking me off. Fuck, that turned me on.

The blond beefcake barely fit under there. His sculpted body was simply too big for the cramped space, but he had no choice. If he moved too much, the man would probably hear him, and the boy was smart enough to know I would punish him if he tried to stop the blowjob. With his head between my thighs, Jake continued to suck me off as quietly as he could, terrified for the strange man in the room to find out and ruin his life.

I couldn’t even begin to imagine how scared he must’ve been in that moment. As I said before, everyone in this county knew his face. Just one little sound, one little sloppy lick would be enough to tear his entire existence to shreds.

But all that, of course, only got him hornier. The fear rushing through his veins, the looming threat of being exposed for a dirty little fag. All those feelings were driving my pretty jockboy completely nuts.

It was getting quite hard for me to focus, as well.

The Sales guy just kept going on and on and on about these files and how he’d analyzed them. Hadn’t it been for my linebacker slut, I probably wouldn’t even have let him into my office in the first place. I just wanted him here for the fun and excitement it brought me and my jock.

What also didn’t help, was the fact that my boy had really improved. He was doing amazing, there on the floor, using his tongue and lips to send waves of ecstasy through my cock.

At some point, Jake took it a little too far and gagged audibly. He froze, and the man before me asked if I was alright. I had to cough a couple of times to make sure the Sales guy wouldn’t suspect anything.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he thanked me for my time and left.

As soon as he closed the door behind him, I threw my head back and shot my load down the slut’s throat. My hands pushed him all the way down on my cock, almost choking the poor jock as I coated his esophagus with my tadpoles. I buried his nose in my pubes, and made him take in everything.

This was the first load he was forced to take orally, I realized. The first batch of semen that was ever fed to him. I kept his head down, and made him swallow every last drop of it, impervious to his choking and gagging.

When my orgasm finally subsided, I wheeled out from the desk, and looked at the half-naked linebacker. I pulled my dick from his mouth, and wiped it clean on his pretty, reddened face for a moment. Jake was panting heavily, looking up at me with a mixture of shame and excitement. His lips glistened with spit and cum.

Then my eyes moved down to his jockstrap, and a wide grin appeared on my face. The boy’s cock was poking out of the pouch, leaking strings of semen, and a nice puddle of cum lay before him on the floor. The big slut had already shot his own load, just from the thrill of the situation.

“Would you look at that,” I chuckled. “Made quite a mess there, haven’t you?”

The beautiful, humiliated Jake nodded, blushing heavily. Poor thing.

He looked like a puppy who had just been caught soiling the carpet.

“Well, you better lick that up, Jakey.”


“You heard me,” I said, loving that embarrassed expression of his, “You make a mess, you clean it up. Simple as that.”

The look on his red face was priceless.

“That’s disgusting,” he muttered.

I scoffed. “You just swallowed a whole load of cum, you big bitch. I’m sure you can deal with another couple drops.”

Of course, it wasn’t just a couple drops. Jake’s fat bull balls had produced a whole puddle of semen. Licking all of that up was gonna take some time and dedication.

But the stud knew I wasn’t gonna let this go. He didn’t have a choice.

Jake’s face hardened, and he threw me one last hateful look before lowering his head to the ground.

His tongue touched the slimy substance, and I laughed aloud when I saw his face contort with disgust. My own load had gone down his throat without even touching his tongue, but this was going all over his tastebuds. There was no escaping the flavor of his own semen.

I can only imagine how much he hated me and himself in that moment, and how fucking turned on he was at the same time.

“That’s right, scoop that up,” I chuckled, while Jake continued to lick up his mess. “I want that floor spotless.”

The stud reluctantly obeyed, slowly working through the filthy puddle while I sat back and enjoyed the sight. There really was something quite beautiful in watching a big, handsome college athlete licking his own sperm from the floor. I wasn’t forcing him to do anything; I just told him, and he was meek enough to obey. If those stupid jock friends of his could see him now, his whole fucking world would be destroyed.

When he finally finished, I pulled him back to his knees, and looked at his handsome, reddened face. I pressed my thumb on his lips, and smeared the remnants of his cum across his mouth. He looked like a real slut.

“How was that?” I asked.

“Fucking nasty,” Jake grumbled, quickly wiping his lips on his wrist.

I slapped his face in response. Teaching this big jock some manners was gonna take more effort than I’d thought.

“Watch the language, boy,” I said, when he threw me another hateful glare. “That’s not a word you use in front of me. Show some respect.”

“Sorry,” he spat. When he left it at that, I slapped him again. The beefy linebacker looked like he could lash out at me at any moment.

“Sorry, sir,” Jake growled.

“Better,” I remarked.

I told the stud to get back to his feet, and get dressed again. He looked a little confused - disappointed, almost - but did as he was told. Soon enough, the jock was standing before me fully clothed, quietly waiting for his next order or task.

“Well, Jake, that was fun. Now I have to get back to work. We’ll continue this later tonight, at my house.”

The hunk looked perplexed, and clenched his jaw. 

“What? That’s it? I just get to suck your cock and leave?”

“Exactly,” I said. “As I said, a fag like you should be grateful for that. After all, you got to cum too, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but-“ he tried, but stopped mid-sentence when I raised my hand.

“I’ll see you tonight,” I said. My tone was enough to let him know I wouldn’t tolerate any more reluctance on his part.

“Now, back to class with you.”

“Well… I’ve got practice tonight,” Jake mumbled, sulking like a spoiled kid. “Till 9.”

I told him I would see him after that, then. The jock threw me one last frustrated glare before turning his back to me and walking away from the desk. Just before he opened the door, I told him one last thing. He stopped in his tracks, but kept his back to me.

“Oh, and Jake, don’t bother showering after practice,” I said. “I’d like to have you in full gear, tonight. Straight from the field.”

Without another word, the linebacker opened the door and walked away.

He left angry and humiliated, infuriated by my degrading actions and his own compliance. No matter how much he hated this, he couldn’t stop.

I was becoming the addiction that would ultimately ruin his life.