Jockboi decided to walk back to the frat in the pissing rain. They lost the match, and he blames himself. Coach didn’t tell him to do this; it’s something he feels he has to do. He let the side down, he let his boys down, he let coach down, he let himself down. The lonely, cold walk will help enforce how he can never let it happen again.
Jocks excel. Jocks win. It’s that simple. If he’s not winning, he’s not a jock. And he can never accept that life.
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Coach practices the ideology of permanent-arousal. All of his jocks should feel turned on at all times, no matter what.
Nothing makes a pack of horny young jocks more aroused than playing football in nothing but their straps, shoes and shoulder pads.
If their dicks were allowed to get erect at will, boys would be hella hard. Fortunately, coach keeps them caged up in order to practice the ideology of managed-release. His jocks can cum when he says so, otherwise they’re locked away to keep their testosterone, frustration and arousal at the zenith.
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He might be married to a great girl now, but Sam couldn’t forget his days playing college football. Nothing made him harder than thinking about what he and his buddies would get up to in the showers after a game. That was ten years ago, and Sam could still smell the heady mix of sweat, cum and soap. So, he liked to play dress-up when his wife went away on business. He’d reconnect with one of his college buds and get back to it like he was 21 again.
It’ll be our little secret
Coach cycles through his jocks every night so they all get a chance to spend time with the big man. But that doesn’t mean Coach is an egalitarian. He privileges the jocks who earn it. If you want more time with Coach, prove you deserve it. It’s a great motivator to lift heavy, train hard, strive. And Coach sees. Coach sees everything.
And the reward is lounging in Coach’s pad, donk out, teasing the man till he fucks you hard and raw. Smoke a cigar, watch the game, crack some jokes, go to bed in Coach’s arms. It’s pretty awesome.
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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.
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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.
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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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