Tag: coach

Boys Will Be Boys

January 1, 2024 / / 0 Comments

“Come on, bro. And don’t pussy out.”

The jocks at the frat are punching each other in the stomach. Just cause. They needed a game to play, and somehow this is what they fell into. Boys will be boys. It’s difficult to grasp why young, immature men who are filled with testosterone make choices. Especially when their dicks are locked nice and snug, as the jocks’ are.

Coach watches them in the camera. He has all his habitats under constant surveillance. The jocks need watched 24/7. It’s important to ensure compliance to masculine orthodoxy. Coach watches the boys punch each other in the gut – some inane pissing contest – and he jacks his huge dick.

Coach understands why they’re doing it. They’re doing it because they’re boys. And boys will be boys. And this pleases Coach greatly. The more his jocks conform to unthinking masculinity and groupthink, the better they will be as both a Team and as jocks, on and off the field.

He imagines they’ll start wrestling soon. They usually do. Whatever it takes to get them tuckered out for sleep. You’d think the 2 hours in the gym and 3 hours of sports they get daily would be enough, but these are ultra high-T alphas whose minds are surrendered to groupthink. It takes a lot to wear them out.

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By Example

January 1, 2024 / / 0 Comments

Coach teaches by example. That’s why you’ll find him in the gym twice a day, everyday, and wearing appropriate attire. The jocks have gotta learn.

It’s hard for the boys to imagine their Coach as anything other than the masculine stalwart he is. Forty-odd, fifty-odd; huge, rugged, strong; the authoritative patriarch; sexually unassailable. But he was young once, he was a jock once. All coaches start as jocks. That time when they were spry and youthful and full of a boy’s mischief and charm.

Coach Schmidt was one of those jocks who knew from an early age that he was gonna go on to form his own tribe. He wanted to be a coach. He looked up to his own coach with intense awe. Once he graduated from his coach’s program and became a full-fledged jock, he went to the military. He needed to be in an ultra-masculine space; the sort of space that made him hot and excited, yet safe and happy. The military honed his machismo further and gave him command of a group of young men. When he returned to civilian life, he was ready to become a coach.

And so he got set-up at a college far from his own coach so as not to have conflict, then got to work building his Team of jocks. Just as his own coach did.

And now there’s over fifty people in his tribe; assistant coaches, jocks, bulls, cheerbois and runts. He’s rich and prosperous; his program is perfect; he has endless access to cocky jocks and beautiful cheerbois to keep his dick wet. But this empire takes work and determination to keep. That’s reflected in his body. A coach’s body is his empire, symbolically. He must be the biggest and strongest jock on the squad. He must lead by example.

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To Indulge Their Femininity

January 1, 2024 / / 0 Comments

Coach is an extreme androphile. When he’s training his jocks or bulls, he demands all of his boys conform to masculine orthodoxy. However, he recognizes that the men he singles out for his cheerleading track are not like the other boys, and he’s happy for them to indulge their femininity. To a point.

He doesn’t let them dress in pleated skirts, much less bras or make-up or heels. They are, in fact, dressed much like his jocks; jockstraps, baseball caps, sports socks, nothing else. Their full cheer uniform is similar, only with added booty shorts and crop tops. And they’re not pink – maroon and white, with roaring grizzlies on the butt of the pants. All in honor of Coach and his tribe. But here, in the privacy of Coach’s bedroom, he indulges them the feminine lure of pink.

Coach does enjoy seeing his cheerleaders frolicking on the bed; dicks caged, asses ready, titillating, deferential, submissive, and happy to please the men on the Team in whatever way they want. They’re here for support; that is the job of a cheerleader. Whether on the pitch, cheering on his boys to make the winning touchdown, or in the locker room afterwards embarrassing themselves on jock dick while they flaunt their asses in their tiny little cheer shorts, lips pouting and moist, eyes pleading yet innocent, the lust for their masculine older brothers offensively obvious.

Coach is forever conscious of the threat that femininity poses. It’s why he doesn’t let his jocks interact with women, except as sex objects when they’re out of chastity, or in porn. Women can never be friends, lovers or confidants. Too much risk that they will slither into jockboi’s mind and poison it against Coach’s masculine temple. He doesn’t let the cheerbois adopt a fully feminine perspective – even though some, at least, are of that temperament – because he worries about the same thing. That their femininity will somehow reduce the masculinity of his jocks.

He really has nothing to fear. Cheerleaders look with awe and lust at their jock brothers, but the jocks see their little cheerleader brothers as nothing but cute bois to protect, and puffy pussies to fuck. The cheerleaders have no influence, no power. They couldn’t undermine a jock’s masculinity, even if they wanted to. And they most certainly don’t want to! No one is more attracted to the bro-ish machismo of the jocks than the cheerleaders. And Coach knows this, and accepts this, and thus is happy for his bois to indulge their femininity. To a point.

Read the first Jocked novel here!

What it means to be Jocked, and more posts here

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Two Whole Days of Freedom

January 1, 2024 / / 0 Comments

Coach gave his jocks the weekend off from their program. No gym, no chastity, no jock-files, no Team practice, no jock bonding, nothing. They had two whole days of freedom.

But what does freedom mean to a jock who has been successfully programmed? He could go to a party, or zone out to some video games, or hook up with anyone who’d have him, or just goon out to porn. But none of that comes to mind. Jockboi isn’t following the program because Coach has him in chains. He does it because he can’t imagine not doing it. Jockboi uses his two days off to go to the gym, listen to his jock-files, have intimate bonding sessions with his jock brothers, and practice his throwing.

This weekend was a test, and a test the jocks pass perfectly. If they had chosen, of their own free will, to pursue an agenda not related to their jockification, then Coach would have seen that as a personal failure. A failure he would remedy through a more intense program and harsh spankings. But he had nothing to fear. The jocks chose their jocklife. They didn’t have to think about it. So well programmed they are that as soon as jockboi woke up, he ate his Coach-approved breakfast, drank his jock juice, grabbed his bag and hit the gym. And then he was out on the pitch with his bros, cap back, passing the ball. Why the fuck would a jock wanna be anywhere else, thinks jockboi. Two whole days of freedom mean nothing in the face of his perfect conditioning.

Jockboi is a slave to the program. And in his slavery, he has found true freedom.

Read the first Jocked novel here!

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Check-in Time

January 1, 2024 / / 0 Comments

Your check-in time was over, and you’d put on another pound of muscle during the week. Now it was time for you to get some bonding in with the old man.

He might have you chew on his nipples, or else lap at his balls, or suck his dick, or just worship his glorious manliness. He’d never give you his cum though. Coach may be a superman, but he has a lot of jocks, and a lot of check-ins, and even he can’t cum ten times a day. But he’d give you what he could, cause he’s like a father to his jocks, and a father always provides.

Check-ins were a thrilling part of your week. To spend thirty minutes alone with the legend himself. His invasive, brutish hands studying your body in detail. Massaging every muscle to see what’s growing and what’s lagging behind. No stone unturned, no part of your body left unexamined. It was at once uncomfortable and deeply arousing. To be given such attention from someone you admired so much.

Coach wouldn’t cum at these check-ins, but you would, if you were out of chastity. Coach would make you bro-out in front he mirror, egging you on to show off and be cocky while he fondled your dick and balls. When he told you to bust your load and show your jock seed, you’d do it on cue. So ready to blow as you always were, and completely attuned to his command after months or years of his voice in your ear every night, listening to the jock files and falling deeper and deeper into jockhood.

Check-in time wasn’t the best time with Coach. No, that came roughly once a month when it was your turn to share his bed for the night and be utterly cunted by his huge cock. But second to that treat, check-ins were your favorite part of the week.

Read the first Jocked novel here!

What it means to be Jocked, and more posts here

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Progress Photo

January 1, 2024 / / 0 Comments

One of coach’s cheerleaders sending in his progress photo for the week. Exactly as coach asked him to. Hidden within those perfectly waxed cheeks is a bloated, puffy, rose-pink pussy that has been trained and trained until it’s ready for anything.

The cheerleaders are the perennial little brothers of Jock Nation (little sisters, depending who you ask), and are treated with a level of affection befitting their place. The jocks and bulls are taught to care for their cheerleaders like they’re fragile things. Delicate, almost sacred. And yet, they are ultimately holes. The cum dumps of Jock Nation.

It’s another paradox of Coach’s – like putting all his jocks in chastity while building them up as tops, or raising his bulls as gay while having them breed pussy – that his cheerleaders should be coddled and demure and protected, and yet be totally immersed in the masculine vulgarity that Coach relentlessly drills into his boys. The liberated, crude and sometimes barbaric words and deeds that come as easily to the jocks as their boners, fist bumps and goofy smiles.

It’s a fine line. There’s nothing demure about being the on-call fucksleeve of a 300lb brute who stops eating only long enough to take a pussy, take a nap, or take a shit (and sometimes not even then), and yet there is something demure in the way that a cheerleader holds himself while he serves. Cause serve he does. Cheerleaders are the support class of Jock Nation. They are there to worship the breeding bulls and top jocks. Specifically, to worship their masculine virtue (and at no point should they ever seek to limit how these men express their masculinity). He retains his cheerleader spirit by being supportive, affirmative, coy and, well, demure. When a jock rips a hard fart, a cheerboi giggles while the jocks laugh; when a bull is lost in a porn swamp and yells “I need to cunt a hole!” a cheerboi bites his bottom lip and pleads to the bull with his eyes; and when Coach – Daddy, to the cheerbois – says it’s time for bed, a cheerboi puts up a token, effeminate resistance until Daddy lifts him onto his shoulder and takes him to bed himself, where he enjoys a light spanking before he nestles into Daddy for the night.

The progress photo is part of this demureness. He doesn’t bend over enough to show off his loose, puffy cunt – a consequence of vulgar masculinity on his body – but he bends over just enough to give a tease; to make his Daddy Coach (and anyone else who sees it cause Coach will certainly share the picture with his boys) wonder about what lies within. It’s not about muscle or fat, gains or losses. Such things matter, and Coach’s assistants keep a meticulous record of a cheerleader’s body, but the progress photos are more fundamental than that. They are a weekly reminder to the cheerboi exactly why he’s here, and exactly how he should show it.

Read the first Jocked novel here!

What it means to be Jocked, and more posts here

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The Clothes Make the Man

January 1, 2024 / / 0 Comments

Every part of a jock’s life is an opportunity to embed the values of masculine orthodoxy. Those values are defined by Coach Schmidt – as every tribe of jocks everywhere is led by his own Coach. And those values are obvious; strength is beauty, harder is better, muscles matter, sex and sexuality are constant, the clothes make the man …

That last one seems dumb, but it shouldn’t be underestimated. You put a man in a frilly skirt, what will he feel about himself, and other men? You put a man in a sharp suit, what then? A bowtie with a pocket protector? A dirty pair of sweats? A policeman’s uniform? Clothes are important because they carry social and psychological weight. Dress a jock in a sexified football uniform, and what happens? The jock sees himself as a sexified football player. A sexified jock. And that’s what he is. It is no more than dressing a man up in the clothes that fit.

When his boys are on team-time, they dress in a set way. Their uniform. Otherwise, Coach lets them dress as they want so long as the clothes are in line with masculine orthodoxy. More, they should actively seek to create the image of a sex-addled, dumbed down, masc4masc jock douchebruh. Why? Because that’s what all of Coach’s boys are. It doesn’t take much convincing to get one of these guys to dress down to a strap, slap on a football crop and pick up a ball, one of dozens laying around the frat at all times. And it certainly doesn’t take convincing to get him to stay dressed as such. The positive reinforcement from his jock brothers in the frat is immediate and total. “Nice ass, bro!” “Looking fucking fire today, dude.” “Fuu~, let me borrow your crop when you’re done, bruh?” All said as they spank his ass, grab for his caged, leaking cock, or stop him in his tracks for a healthy bro-kiss.

The jock groupthink is at its strongest in the frat, and it’s only stronger when each of the jocks is dressed in a way that conveys, in no uncertain terms, that he is a slave to the orthodox mindset.

Read the first Jocked novel here!

What it means to be Jocked, and more posts here.

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Sleepover

January 1, 2024 / / 0 Comments

On a rotating schedule, Coach brings one of his jocks home for a sleepover. Tonight, it’s Zach’s privilege. Zach was a priss in band before Joe – one of Coach’s stars – saw the spark of potential in him and brought him into Coach’s fold. After a year of hard training and relentless jockification through the hypno-files, Zach shed the prissy demeanor and succumbed to masculine orthodoxy and groupthink.

Zach took to the uniform better than most. While Coach expects his boys to wear their team jockstraps in his colors – maroon pouch, white bands – when on the field, in the locker room, or at the gym, elsewise he’s happy for them to wear different cuts and colors of underwear, so long as they turn the big man on. And these all certainly do. Zach asked Coach if he could show off all his new looks he’d bought since the last time he got to sleepover, and Coach happily obliged. He wants his jockbois to be happy, it turns him on, and it also gives him another opportunity to assess his jock’s gains. Zach, being a younger jock in his tribe, still needed a bit more active guidance from Coach than, say, Joe. And that guidance came primarily in the form of Coach’s penetrating gaze and firm touch.

Zach’s particular focus on his outfits is not totally in line with jock groupthink. Yes, Coach wants his boys to look good and to be invested in their own masculine beauty, which includes dressing in such way to keep his fellow jock turned on, he doesn’t want his boys prissy. But Coach Schmidt allows his boys a little space for personal expression, for freedom. Zach was a priss before he joined the program; it makes sense that some of that prissy sensibility would continue to shine through, even after the relentless onslaught of the jockification process. He wanted to match baseball cap with sexy underwear. Coach had no problems with this. All that mattered was that he wanted to wear the underwear and a baseball cap – both essential items of clothing for any jock. Coach didn’t mandate that jocks shave their holes, but if Zach wanted to, that was fine, too. There’s no bad option, so long as the jock is fit, strong, manly and beautiful.

The sleepover is not just an opportunity for Coach to slam that jock bussy into submission, though he will do that because that’s what alphas do. It’s really an opportunity for a jock and his Coach to bond on a deeper, intimate level; away from the competing interests of the other jocks, cheerbois and bulls. It’s just a jock and his coach, alone and vulnerable. Coach will do to Zach’s mind what he will do to his bussy; penetrate it, tame it, soothe it.

Read the first Jocked novel here!

What it means to be Jocked, and more posts here.

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Dumb Jocks

January 1, 2024 / / 0 Comments

The dumb jocks are talking politics while they pass the ball. It’s like hearing a bunch of kiddie-leaguers discuss astrophysics. These jockbois have lost their minds to the spiral, but they like to pretend they still have intellect, opinions, ethics and the like. It’s a form of mimicry, like how children mimic their native language before they’re actually able to speak it. They intone it, first. The jocks intone the discussions of people who still have the capacity for thinking beyond lifting, sports, sex, fun and bros. It’s funny. Cute, even. Who knows what silly shit they’re gonna spout next about taxes, healthcare, or fucking road signs.

Coach Schmidt doesn’t care. So long as they look hot and throw like men, they can talk about whatever they want. But, some part of the old man looks on at these conversations and worries. The jock files – those nightly spiraling hypno-tapes that keep the jocks in line and turned on – are designed to wear down a jock’s capacity for other-thought. Coach’s tribe is built on masculine orthodoxy and jock groupthink, both he strictly controls. Politics – like literature, history, science and the like – are not relevant to this orthodoxy, and they actually fly in the face of jock groupthink. Jocks should have their minds on the ball, on their cocks, on each other’s cocks, on pussy, on porn, on the gym, on their diet. While these topics are intellectually meager for most adults, for dumb jocks they should be more than enough to keep them stimulated. When the bros ape depth with their attempt at polemic, they undermine groupthink. Coach doesn’t intervene because they’re all doing it. They’re all playing into and feeding the charade. In this, it is a part of jock groupthink. The groupthink that suggests they should be thinking about something deeper than cock and football.

Only it fails. It’s only ever an aping, never the real thing. The orthodox mind-fuck is too powerful, the groupthink too omnipresent, the desire to be a dumb jock too demanding for his boys to ever actually surrender to the lust for poignancy. Life is too short for poignancy, especially for men like this; young, dumb and full of cum.

Coach has nothing to worry about.

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What it means to be Jocked, and more posts here.

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Bull Pool

January 1, 2024 / / 0 Comments

This is the Bull Pool. Just a place for Coach Schmidt’s big boys to cool off in the summer when the heat starts to get to them. If you weighed 320lbs, you’d sweat like a fucking hog, too. And sweat they do. Coach doesn’t accept a boy as a member of his bullpen until he reaches that glorious 300th pound (fat in check).

If a bull’s been good, Coach’ll send in some of the cheerbois to keep him company. Those beautiful svelte bottoms love nothing more than sitting on the laps of their big brother-bulls, getting their puffy assholes violently played with, soaking in his obnoxious, reeking masculinity. The bull’s probably chowing down on a massive pizza during, or six men’s worth of hamburgers. Coupled with the cum oozing from his overactive cock, and the Bull Pool gets fucking disgusting fucking fast. A thick film of highly potent bull cum will cover the water by the end, especially if more than one bull shares the pool. A dangerous scenario. The bulls aren’t always too friendly with each other. If there’s plenty of food, plenty of hole, plenty of room, plenty of attention, then bulls can be the best of bros. If there’s ever competition for resources, then these huge slabs of meat can and do get violent. So Coach will only share the pool if he has plenty of cheerbois to spare for the evening. The clean-up, as ever, is left for the runts. Sometimes they’ll only have ten minutes to drain the scuzz from the pool before the next bull barges in and takes his pleasure.

Bulls are incredibly simple. They just wanna shovel food into their stomachs, lift heavy bits of metal, and put their dicks into tight holes. Coach ensures all three urges are kept well-satisfied.

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Learn what it means to be Jocked, and more Jocked posts here.

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