His sphincter resisted. The ball was thoroughly ball-shaped, and Alfie hadn’t been stretched at all, but Coach kept rocking the wand until the ball popped through and then it was smooth sailing from there. The rest of the wand wasn’t very thick—not what Alfie would want from a cock, that was for sure—and the stainless steel made it slide easily up his channel, though Coach didn’t slide it up very far, only until the ball pressed against Alfie’s prostate.
Alfie hissed out an excited breath. The ball was heavy, firm, and wedged tight against his pleasure button, which sentskittery happy feelings all through his body. Coach started rocking the wand, causing the ball to rub over his prostate in a way that was perhaps a touch too aggressive. Alfie would be enjoying the sensation if someone were touching his cock, but Coach wasn’t touching it and Alfie didn’t feel as if he knew Coach well enough—their current intimate situation aside—to touch it himself. He tensed, wanting to ask Coach to stop massaging his prostate quite so hard, but Coach just kept increasing the pressure.
For a moment, Alfie thought he might be able to come like this. That he was, in fact, already coming, but the sensation was closer to pain than pleasure, and instead of sharpening, it lengthened, growing more and more unbearable. Something was bursting inside him, but not in a good way.
“Coach,” he complained in a voice that was disappointingly whiny.
“Shit,” Coach said in response. “I didn’t think this through.”
Alfie heaved a sigh of relief. Coach had understood that something wasn’t right and was going to fix it. He didn’t take the wand out of Alfie’s ass, but he did stop moving it. Then he half picked Alfie up and steered his torso around until Alfie’s chest was supported by his desk and said, “Don’t move.”
Then he left the room.
Alfie’s pants were around his ankles and his naked ass was sticking straight out behind him with a wand sticking out ofit. It was a humiliating position that grew more humiliating as one long second after another ticked by until Coach finally came back carrying a towel.
“That jock isn’t going to contain everything, and I don’t want it on my pants,” he said as he took his seat again. He spread the towel over his lap and steered Alfie on top of it. “Now, where were we?”
“You were making me come?”
Coach laughed. “Just keep thinking that.”
He started in with the wand again, no different from what he’d been doing before, grinding it over and over into Alfie’s prostate until Alfie couldn’t help whimpering.
“It doesn’t feel good.”
“It’s not supposed to feel good. I told you not to perv on my men, but I understand that you can’t help yourself, so I’m going to help you. This is called milking. Gets the come out of you without you coming, so to speak.”
“But—”
But he wanted to come. And he didn’t understand how the come was going to get out of him without him coming. Then the first drop leaked from his tip and he did. Coach was forcing semen out of his balls, bit by agonizing bit, and the only thing Alfie could feel was how over-stimulated his prostate was and the gradual softening of his cock, as if it were giving up.
“There you go,” Coach said as Alfie continued to leak. “Won’t be able to jerk off now, will you? Not if I get you nice and empty.”
Empty was the right word for it. Horniness drained out of him in painful, unsatisfying drops without any force or sense of completion. He couldn’t even pinpoint the moment at which the last drop fell. Without an explosion or a sudden sense of ecstasy, there was nothing to define it. All he knew was that Coach eventually pulled the wand out of his ass with a painful pop and handed it to him.
“Go wash that up, then get back in here.”
Alfie stood, dazed and exhausted. He reached for his pants, but Coach stopped him.
“Nah, I still need those down. Just waddle on out there. It’s not like you’ve got a lot of grace at the best of times.”
Alfie waddled to the bathroom sinks and cleaned the tool as fast as possible. The team had left long ago, but what if someone had forgotten something and came back for it? And what wasCoach going to do to him next? He hadn’t minded the spanking so much, at least not once it was over, but milking was awful. He never would have agreed to it if he’d known.
When he got back to the office, Coach was looking at something on his computer, as if he had more important things to do than deal with Alfie, who was standing there with his pants down holding a sex toy. But he eventually turned around and took the wand from Alfie and leaned down to put it back in his drawer. When he straightened, he had a different piece of metal in his hand, this one shaped like a cock. A soft cock. A soft,smallcock made of metal bars.
“What’s that?” Alfie asked, extremely concerned because he already knew what it was.
“A cage for your dick. That milking should hold you for a while, but I know how you young guys are. Doesn’t take long to fill back up, does it? Pull your jock down for me so I can get this on.”
Alfie shook his head.
“Alfie,” Coach said sternly. “Don’t make me put you back over my knee, okay? It’s been a long day for both of us. Once I lock you up, you can finish your work here and head home.”
“For how long?”
“How long for the cage? For as long as you need help keeping your hands away from your dick when you think about my players.”
So, like, forever. But Coach didn’t need to know that. Alfie had made a terrible mistake getting caught, but he’d learned his lesson. Tomorrow he would report having zero dirty thoughts about the team. Coach would feel good that he’d improved Alfie as a person, and Alfie could get on with his nightly jerk-off sessions.
