The following story is fiction about trouble in the high school gym shower and the coach is unhappy about it. The story contains a scene of a paddling. If this subject is offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.
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We were the last squad of the class in the showers and the jocks were having fun. They were having fun with me – the nerd. The poor jerk who couldn't get a ball to touch the ground if he let go of it. The sissy boy who surely was a cock sucking fag if not worse. It was, unfortunately, not anything new. It happened every time the coach did not hang about.
Today they were in rare form and particularly nasty. My butt had been slapped a few times. They hit hard and especially in the wet conditions their spanks hurt. I'm sure that there were red hand prints as evidence on my bare butt. Of the ten guys in there, four of them had hard-ons. Normally that would cause taunting of the guy who was up for being a fag and excited at seeing all the great bodies of the straight guys doing the harassing. Today, it was just the reverse – only real men were proud to show off their hard manhoods. None of their put downs were any cleverer than: "Bet you would love to have this filling your faggot ass." as they were manhandling (actually boyhandling) me.
That was the situation when the coach walked in attracted by all the noise. It all stopped and everyone got back under their shower head and got to washing. "Anyone man enough to own up to starting this fracas?"
Big surprise – none of them were. They were a batch of cowards. It was no secret that the coach had a paddle. A fraternity paddle with holes drilled in the business end. A paddle that would turn a boy's tail to mush. It was even rumored that it would make some senior jocks cry just like the little freshies did. The coach knew better than to ask anyone to tell the truth as he would be considered a rat.
"Well, I don't have the time to paddle all of you so I'll let the fates determine who gets it." He pulled out a little pad and gave each of us a piece of paper. "Each of you write his name on one of these and I'll pull a name out of my cap." A couple of pencils went around and ten slips were soon in the cap. The coach mixed them up and then picked one at random. It was for Maston. He was a regular guy and was just a bystander. I felt sorry for him but was glad it was not me about to get my ass roasted with an audience. The coach had him stand by the other wall rather than assume the position. Then he pulled the rest of the slips out of his cap one by one. I was second and directed to stand by Maston. I was also third, fifth, sixth and eighth leaving the four bullying jocks uncalled by the time that the cap was empty. It was clear that they had cheated but the coach never said anything like that.© YLeeCoyote
"I see that the fates have decided you four are the ones to get it for the group." the coach said with just a touch of sarcasm in his tone. "Rinse off and assume the position." They – Adamski, Mckelduff, Spiecher, and Lovenguth – all looked shocked. They obviously had hoped that I would be getting paddled and certainly never expected that they would.
I could not help thinking about one of the coach's favorite sayings: «Winners never cheat and cheaters never win.» The five others and I who were honest, especially Maston, were delighted that justice would be served and we going to see the show. Actually I noticed that my cock was also happy as it perked up after the chilling shower as did those of my five honest classmates. The four jocks did not look very happy especially since the coach looked grim. He had yelled about shenanigans in the showers frequently.
A minute later I and the others were treated to four moonings as the four jocks bent over gripping their shins. All were quite light in color unlike the surrounding tanned areas of their athletic bodies. I knew that I was going to enjoy these butt roastings. The coach got into position and delivered the first pop. The crack resounded off the tiles loudly. Adamski took it well and the coach went to the next one as that butt was turning pink. The last two pops of round one were both similar. The coach returned to Adamski and gave him his second pop. This time there was some vocalization. As the pink deepened, the coach went down the line. It was a very enjoyable show and only a third the way through. The third round and most of the fourth were the same except Spiecher gave a howl each time. That was extra pleasing. Maybe jocks ain't so tough and we were just halfway through.
By the time the sixth round came, these four rear ends were quite red. They certainly looked hot and sore. Adamski had reacted strongly to pop six. He howled like a coyote and grabbed his tail. It sounded louder so it probably was harder but the coach did not cut him any slack. "Back into position Adamski and we'll do that over properly."
I was delighted. CRACK! went the paddle and Adamski howled again but managed to stay down. I doubted that he was going to sit comfortably for a while. Mckelduff and Spiecher managed to keep position but each gave a howl. Spiecher jumped up like Adamski had and got an extra pop. We were all told to get dressed.
The four jocks did not look happy at all for the rest of the day. I was very happy however – that was the best gym class ever.
© Copyright A.I.L. January 5, 2016
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Last updated: September 15, 2023