Alfie’s jock bore a big wet spot where he’d leaked through it onto the towel across Coach’s lap earlier, and he figured itmight be more comfortable to get rid of it completely and go commando, so he pulled off all his clothes and set them on top of the towel so they wouldn’t get Coach’s desk dirty.
Coach reached forward and grabbed his junk—not in a kind way either—and wrestled it into the cage with a minimum of finesse and a fair amount of cursing.
“Been a while since I operated one of these.”
Alfie squeaked when his balls got pinched by the retaining ring—causing Coach to give him a look like he was being difficult on purpose—before all his parts ended up in the right place with the unit snapped shut. Coach clicked a tiny padlock through the ring holding the contraption together and sat back to survey the results with a satisfied nod.
“Much better. Should’ve locked you up the day I gave you the job. I had a feeling about you, Alfie. Like I said, I’ve seen your kind before. You were looking to get with those guys, weren’t you?”
Alfie nodded. It probably wasn’t uncommon for jock-obsessed bottoms like him to apply for this position. He wondered how many equipment managers had worn this cage before him.
“Well, maybe we can get you some action,” Coach said with a grin Alfie didn’t understand. “As long as you remember the golden rule.” He paused, waiting for Alfie to say something.
Alfie searched his brain for the golden rule. “Serve, not perv?”
“That’s my boy. Now, along those lines, it’s time for you to demonstrate some gratitude.”
Gratitude? For spanking him and milking him and locking his cock in a cage? What the hell kind of gratitude did Coach expect? When Coach reached for his belt buckle, Alfie saw what kind of gratitude he expected.
“That was a lot of trouble you just put me to,” he said as he undid his fly and pulled out his cock, which was already hard, telling Alfie that Coach had enjoyed the supposed trouble. “So show me how much you appreciate it.”
If Alfie was really going to show Coach how much he appreciated being spanked and milked and caged, he would take a bite out of Coach’s cock, but he didn’t want to get himself in any more trouble, and besides, Coach had a sweet cock. Thick and cut and not badly manscaped. A few swallows of Coach’s come would compensate him for how much come he’d lost himself and give him a nice memory to jerk off to. So he got down on his knees between Coach’s legs and swallowed Coach’s cock.
Coach wasn’t very considerate about the way he took a blowjob, which didn’t surprise Alfie. He started thrusting almost immediately, and it wasn’t long before he was full-on choking Alfie with his good-sized cock that seemed to keep getting bigger.
Alfie liked giving blowjobs. He always got hard and usually took care of himself while he was taking care of the other guy, but today he didn’t have that option. As his limp dick continued to be limp, he started to fully comprehend the fact that he wasn’t going to be able to jerk off to this memory. He was here in a purely service role with no thought given to his pleasure whatsoever. In fact withnegativethought given to his pleasure, with his pleasure being actively disallowed.
He started to cry, but his tears and the lack of arousal somehow made him even more eager to make Coach come, as if Coach’s pleasure had taken the place of his own. This was the best he could do. Serve, not perv.
Coach came with a single, unimpressed grunt, holding Alfie’s head down on his cock until Alfie grew dizzy. Then hepulled his cock out of Alfie’s mouth, used a clean corner of the towel to wipe Alfie’s spit off it, and tucked it back in his pants.
Alfie put his own pants back on, not sure whether he should leave or what. Coach had already shifted his focus to his computer.
“Um, okay. Bye, I guess.”
“Take that towel with you,” Coach said without turning around. “And check in with me when you come in tomorrow.”
“Yes, Coach,” Alfie agreed eagerly. He couldn’t wait to get this cage off so he could make use of all the hotness that had happened today. He would never jerk off to the memory of being milked—never, ever—but the rest of it? Holy hell, yes.
Chapter 4
The next day Alfie arrived earlier than usual and went straight to Coach Brady’s office. Last night had been awful. Whether he was supposed to be perving or not, he couldn’t help thinking about everything that had happened, and when he thought about it, he got aroused.
Aroused, but not hard. Because the bigger his dick got, the more it tried to push through the metal bars, which hurt, causing his dick to deflate in hopeless defeat. Then he would remember another detail about being over Coach’s lap or having Coach’s cock down his throat or even just the way the team’s dicks had swung around in the shower, all warm and wet, and the cycle would repeat itself.
He’d tried to jerk off, using all the ingenuity an engineer could bring to the task. He’d stuck things through the bars, he’d jiggled the cage itself. He’d even stuffed a dildo up his ass and fucked himself for a solid half hour, which might have worked except for the problem of how much it hurt when his hardening dick tried to dice its way through the steel bars.
Ultimately, he’d given up and gone to bed, but he hadn’t gotten much sleep because even in his sleep his dick kept trying to firm up. He would wake up, throbbing and horny, to find himself rutting the cold, hard cage containing his hot, soft cock into his mattress.
So it was with anticipatory excitement that he presented himself in the doorway to Coach Brady’s office. Coach didn’t seem to notice him, so he lingered, shuffling his feet, unsure whether or not to speak up because he didn’t want to make Coach angry but also thinking that if Coach would be quick about it, he might be able to slip into a stall and have a wank before the team arrived.
He cleared his throat. “Coach?”
Coach glanced up quizzically, as if he couldn’t understand why Alfie was bothering him.
“You wanted to see me when I got in.”
“Oh, right. Come here and let me check out the damage.”
