“All right then.” Coach spun Alfie around to face the crowd and gave him a push toward Lemieux, then headed for his office like his work was done here.
“What’s that thing?” Lemieux asked. He was pointing at Alfie’s crotch, making Alfie remember that his lower half was totally nude, which meant a bunch of guys who’d already seen all there was of him to see were seeing it again but also meant that the guys who’d never seen the cage before were seeing it for the first time. One of those guys was Lemieux. The other was Ryan.
Ryan stood along the far wall gaping, absolutely horrified. Alfie had known better than to let him see the cage. He crossed his hands in front of him, but Max grabbed one and yanked it away.
“It keeps his dick locked up,” he explained. “So it doesn’t touch you.”
“I wasn’t going to put him over my lap anyway,” Lemieux said. “He can take it up against the wall.”
“Whatever,” Max said. “It’s just to make sure he’s not getting off on any of this. Because otherwise he would, trust me.”
Bruiser nodded. “He loves it.” Bruiser gave his cock a squeeze because he loved it too. “So if you’re doing it, do it. Otherwise, it’s my turn.”
“I’m doing it.” Lemieux gestured for Alfie to get back in place against the wall, then took a spot way to the side of him as if even incidental contact would be too much. He swung wildly for the tops of Alfie’s thighs. Despite saying he didn’t want to touch Alfie’s ass, his aim wasn’t that good, so Alfie’s butt cheeks got yet more action, which set him to yelping again. Lemieux seemed to like hearing him yelp because he swung even more wildly, over and over with a speed and force Alfie wouldn’t have expected from a goalie until Coach came back in.
“Now another option,” he said, “when the ass cheeks are getting over-cooked, is the space between the cheeks. Pull those back for me, Alfie.”
“What?” Alfie had been watching the action through the mirror, but now he cranked his head the other way to stare directly at Coach.
“Your cheeks, boy. Pull them apart.”
Slowly, he complied. Most of the guys in the room had seen his hole, but not like this and not all at once.
“You see that white space?” Coach asked. “That’s what this is for.” He flourished a ruler in his right hand. “You can get right in there. Who wants to try?”
Lemieux shook his head and stepped away, but Bruiser was at Coach’s elbow in a heartbeat.
“Right in there, huh?” He sounded dazzled, like he’d just been gifted a new car. Coach didn’t even answer, just handed Bruiser the ruler, and Bruiser didn’t need any more prompting than that.
Alfie shrieked bloody murder at the first flick of the ruler into his crack. The edge of the ruler landed right on his hole, and the rest of it landed on tender, unmarked skin.
“Nice,” Bruiser said, admiring the red streak he’d raised. “Gotta have him over my lap though.” He picked Alfie up and hauled him to one of the benches and let loose, grinding and humping and thwacking and pinching until he gave a scream almost as loud as the ones Alfie had been letting out and came.
“Phew. That was good. Now I need another shower.” He stood Alfie on his feet and strolled casually toward the showers, practically whistling.
“What I need is a good orgasm,” Max said. “Blow me, cum dump.” He pushed Alfie to his knees and Alfie blew him, surrounded by the rest of the team. The rest of the team except Ryan.
As Alfie went through the locker room making men come, Lemieux disappeared too, but it was Ryan who Alfie cared about. The cage, the spankings, the endless succession of blowjobs. Itwas too much to hope that Ryan could ever see him as boyfriend material again.
When the locker room was empty, Alfie went into Coach’s office and gave one more blowjob. He was full of come and horny. That had been a good scene—so much angry testosterone, all aimed his way—and every inch of his thighs and ass, including his crack and hole, throbbed with a reminder of how hot it had been. But even as he was going down on Coach, he couldn’t stop thinking about Ryan.
Chapter 11
When he’d finished his chores, he left the locker room and found Ryan waiting for him outside, leaned up against the brick exterior with his jacket hanging open like he couldn’t feel the cold. Alfie sure felt it. It’d been warm in the locker room, but Ryan’s expression was the opposite of warm. He looked positively sick, unable to meet Alfie’s eyes as he shuffled his feet against the concrete.
Alfie wanted to apologize, but he wasn’t sure what he would be apologizing for. Mostly he just wanted Ryan to not be mad at him.
“Are you mad at me?” he asked when the silence had stretched on too long and he hadn’t come up with anything better to say.
“I don’t know, Alfie. I feel like I don’t know anything.”
“Um, but you knew about… I mean, you knew I gave those other guys blowjobs and whatever.”
You knew I was the team cum dump, was what he was trying to say, but he hated that term and it didn’t seem helpful under the circumstances.
“Yeah, but it’s one thing knowing it and another thing seeing it. And that other stuff…”
“The spankings? Remember, Bruiser asked Coach if he could and Coach said yes? He always does it. Not usually anyone else though.”
