Motivational Stuffer

I’m the only out guy in my dorm building, and I’m roomed with 2 of the guys on the football team… They keep ragging on me for not knowing sports and want me to come to their games and be a “motivator” for their pregame talks in the locker room… Whatever that means.

Beta Patron Request by @Fen
Source: @jockboy1113

"What do you say, son? You willing to give it a shot?" said Coach. His broad grin and pretty green eyes made it difficult to look away—difficult to even consider saying no. His personality was just so, so overwhelming, that it was hard to not just get bulldozed.

Coach picked up a bright baby blue baseball cap and held it out in front of Keith’s face. "Come on, son. It can’t be that bad to try it out. You don’t have to stick with it, if you don’t want to," said Coach. As Keith stared into those bright green eyes he couldn’t help but wonder how he’d even ended up in this situation.

Keith had never had any trouble being himself. Not in middle school, not in high school, and, at least so far, not in university. If anything, it seemed he was having a lot more trouble getting along with people because he just didn’t care about sports.

It was kind of Keith’s fault for choosing to attend a university with such an athletics-focused culture, but at the same time, his terrible luck was also partially to blame. It wasn’t like he’d asked to be roomed with two of the jocks on the football team. They were really the ones causing the most trouble.

All in all, it wasn’t too bad. Most days with Josh and Raf were tolerable. It was just that they got a bit unbearable whenever there was a game on the horizon. They seemed to think that not knowing anything about football was a major failing—though, fair enough, Keith was of the mind that not knowing the difference between the city of York and New York was a pretty big failing on the jocks’ part.

Really, Josh and Raf weren’t the worst roommates. They weren’t even the worst jocks. Both were relatively mild-mannered, polite, and thoughtful, unlike the arrogant, self-obsessed losers Keith had known in high school. It just irked him that they wouldn’t stop going on about his lack of knowledge about football and their endless pushing for him to attend one of their games.

Josh even floated the idea, at one point, that if Keith didn’t want to watch the games then he could at least help the team out by being a pre-game "motivator," whatever that meant. Although, Keith had to admit that he got a little interested when Raf hinted there was money involved.

In any case, it was only halfway through the football season and Keith was already getting sick and tired of it. The two were pushing him to his breaking point and he was seriously considering just going with it to shut them up.

So far, at least, Keith hadn’t yet reached the end of his rope and could pretend to be tuning the two out whenever they got on one of their long-winded rants about football. It was a wonder they ever got any schoolwork done, because Keith sure as hell never saw them doing any in the dorm.

Keith had taken to wearing the baseball cap, that Coach had given him, everywhere. It wasn’t as bad as he had thought it would be, and he actually rather liked it. Especially after Raf told him that he was wearing it backward since the bill was in front.

The cap did sit a lot better on Keith’s head once the visor was on the back of his head rather than the front. He felt a lot less like a golfer lost on the university campus, and more like one of the other guys.

Keith didn’t have to start being a "motivator," whatever that meant, for another two months yet. Coach said he wanted to personally train Keith and get him used to the role before putting him in there before an actual game and even Keith couldn’t deny that there was a certain thrill to the idea of getting to spend more one-on-one time with Coach.

The strangest thing was, ever since he accepted Coach’s offer, not that Keith thought he could have ever refused, he’d been feeling a lot more energetic. It was a major boon, if he was being honest, especially with midterms on the horizon.

Keith felt, with all the energy he could feel coursing through his body, that he could probably study the world and back before midterms hit. The only issue was actually focusing for that long. He felt like he was constantly wired, like he needed to burn the energy on something other than studying.

It was a problem, if Keith was being honest. While he used to be able to survive three-hour long lectures and actually be happy for them, he found himself increasingly checking out within the first ten minutes. He just felt like he was going to explode if he spent any more time just sitting on his ass.

Keith expressed his worries as much to Coach at the end of his day of lectures. He needed to be able to sit down and focus if he wanted to pass his midterms, but it didn’t look like that was going to be happening any time soon.

Coach actually provided some pretty good advice. What was supposed to be Keith’s first session as a "motivator" ended up being taken up by Coach teaching Keith how to use gym equipment so that he could burn off the excess energy.

Just as Coach prescribed, Keith started going to the gym early in the morning, before class. It helped him focus on his lectures. Then, he went again in the evenings, just so that he could calm himself down before studying for his midterms. He had that much excess energy in his body. Not even Josh or Raf could keep up, it seemed.

Keith had also actually started enjoying the company of his roommates. They went with him to the gym in the mornings and helped him out with his workouts, though they insisted he stick to the regime that Coach had told him to, to preserve the look of his tight, lean body.

The problem with working out, it turned out, was that it got a little bit addictive. Keith sought the burn like junkies sought the high and he wanted to know more about it.

Keith didn’t think he did particularly well about the midterms. Every time he tried to sit down to study, his mind would wander. It didn’t go off on random, frenetic tangents anymore, but it still went off, it just managed to focus on thinking about when his next workout was going to be, and how he could improve the efficiency of his routine.

Truth was, even though he blanked out on most of the questions on the tests, Keith didn’t particularly care. Some small part of him that still clung on to the old academic excellence found it difficult to give up, but he eventually learned to just tune out that voice in the back of his head.

Once midterms was over, Coach could finally start properly training Keith. Unfortunately, even those sessions struggled to hold Keith’s attention for any significant amount of time. At least Coach was more than happy to engage him whenever he asked gym questions. In fact, Coach actually recommended some supplements that he could take to make his workouts even better.

Once Keith started taking those pills, his gym sessions got longer and longer and he cared less and less about his academic standing. It just didn’t make much sense to chase after the high he used to get when he received high grades when there was a far more intoxicating thrill that he got whenever he got a good workout going. Josh and Raf were all too happy to encourage it, especially once they heard that Keith’s grades were dropping.

One of the side-effects of the supplements, as Coach had warned, was that Keith would get horny. And boy was he horny. He spent most of the day walking around with a huge erection pressing up against his thigh. And every day, it looked just a little bigger.

In addition to the gym sessions that he now had for most of the morning and most of the evening, Keith also kept up an almost-religious ritual of jerking off. At its worst, a month before the game he was supposed to start, Keith was jerking off once in the morning, once before leaving for the gym, once in the showers, once after getting back, once before and after lunch, once after an afternoon nap, once before and after dinner, once before leaving for the gym, once in the showers, once after getting back, and twice before settling down for bed in the night.

That Keith’s cock hadn’t already been rubbed raw by all the tugging was a medical marvel. As the days wore on, the total number of times he jerked off in a day slowly went down, but the total amount of time he spent jerking off went up.

As he took the supplement and worked out and made sure to hone his tight little twink body, Keith’s cock grew and grew until it was practically a third leg. At the same time, however, he was finding it more and more difficult to climax.

It took just a little bit longer every time Keith jerked off, but with how often he was doing it, that little bit added up. The multiple different jerkoff sessions he had throughout the day, eventually blended into one long gooning session that lasted for hours unless interrupted by the gym and by coach.

Two weeks before the game, Coach gave Keith some new supplements to take. he didn’t know what they did. He didn’t really know much of anything, anymore. His brain had been pretty starved of anything stimulating since he started wearing the cap, and his big cock was taking up most of the blood that was supposed to be going up there, anyway.

Coach said something about the pills "locking in" the progress that Keith had made, and that after he had a week’s worth of doses he could stop going to the gym. By that point, Keith had started to see the gym as an obstacle to his jerking off so he was more than happy to take the new supplement.

After the new pills had run their course, Keith felt as if he was in tip-top shape. That night, Coach finally told him what his role was going to be as a pre-game "motivator." THe last thing Keith remembered was Coach taking his pants off, and the rest of the night faded into blurry darkness in his memories.

It was dark. It was cramped. Even though he had always been on the smaller side, a twink, as many would have classified him in the gay community, Keith still only barely fit in the space he’d been shoved in. He had no idea where he was, or what he was doing there, only that it was dark, he was naked, and he was hard as fuck.

At some point, Keith’s brain must have decided that it was dark and "private" enough to start jerking off in the cramped little space because he’d been tugging on his cock for hours, now. That was another thing with Coach’s new supplements. They had meant he could stop going to the gym, but they also meant that he couldn’t cum, no matter how hard he tried.

Keith had no idea how much time passed before he finally saw some light streaming in through what looked like small slats in the wall of the cramped space he was in. He heard the sounds of guys talking, and locker doors banging, so he imagined he must have been stuffed in one of the lockers.

Surprisingly, Keith didn’t find the idea too distressing. If anything, he felt like it was the right place to be. He didn’t know why, exactly, but he was thinking of himself as a piece of equipment for the team, and as objectifying as that was, it felt right, and true.

"Alright, boys. Here’s that nice little piece that I promised you," said Coach. Keith could recognize that voice anywhere. Something banged against the door of the locker he’d been stuffed in, and he could only imagine it was Coach’s big, meaty hand.

The conversation in the locker room quieted down to a few excited murmurs as Coach fiddled with the lock that keeping the locker closed. Light flooded the interior as the door swung open and Keith stumbled out.

Keith had a stupid little grin on his face as he squinted at the team. His bright blue baseball cap was backwards and askew on his head as he stroked his 14-inch monster. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but the enormous cock looked absolutely obscene on his tight little twink body, the sight enhanced even more by the hard angles of all the muscles that he’d managed to define as a result of Coach’s training regimen.

"Here’s your motivational stuffer!" said Coach, patting Keith on the shoulder. "Be careful with him. He’s much like the rest of you. Very little brains in that pretty little head of his, but with hips like a jackhammer. I’m sure you’ll enjoy him, boys."

Keith was distracted by Coach’s pretty emerald eyes when Coach winked at him. Memories of the previous evening returned to him, of Coach removing his pants revealing a meaty jock ass with a dripping boyhole between the fat, round mounds.

Drool pooled in Keith’s mouth and trickled out the corners of his lips as he remembered burying his face in Coach’s thick, musky ass. It had smelled and felt so good. It had tasted amazing, too, when Coach told him to stick his tongue in the twitching hole and give him a good licking.

Keith’s cock twitched and leaked a glob of pre-cum at the memory of getting to bury his tool in Coach’s muscle-pussy. It had felt so good. And he was about to do the same for the rest of the team.

Looking around the group, Keith noticed that all the boys had predatory grins on their faces. They were all naked below the belt, all of them sporting tight little chastity cages that seemed barely able to contain their straining, dripping cocks.

Before Keith knew it, there were fifteen of the hottest jock asses being presented to him, and fifteen manly voices begging for him to fuck them first like bitches in heat. He was in fucking heaven, and if getting to do this again meant being stuffed back into the locker until the next game, he would gladly volunteer shove himself into the tight, cramped space.

Since this was his first time, Keith figured there wasn’t really any reason to play favorites. Josh and Raf were somewhere in the middle of the pack—he hadn’t really been paying attention, so he started with the guy closest to him. His monster-cock slid into the jock’s velvety-hot pussy like butter.

By the time that Keith had fucked his way through the entire team, not a single one was able to stand on their own two legs, and there was a mess of pre-cum all over the floor of the locker room. Every single jock hole was gaping ever so slightly as they each reached for their lockers and stuffed large butt plugs into their cunts.

Keith, on the other hand, could only continue masturbating furiously in the middle of the floor. He knew his services as "motivator" extended to letting the team suck him off to blow steam during the halftime break, and as consolation or celebration at the end of the game.

It wasn’t the life the old Keith would have chosen, but it was exactly the life that new Keith wanted more than anything in the world. He still wasn’t clear if he was ever going to get to cum again, but that didn’t matter. He loved being so horny that he felt like it would be a bit disappointing to just let all of that edging go to waste by cumming.

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