"What th-fffffffffff?" gasped Blaine.
The shadow gripping him was becoming more and more solid and he-
Blaine-was becoming less substantial. He felt his bones fade away,
and his body collapsed and changed. He hung limply like an empty sack
in what he now realized was a strong male hand.
"Turner! Hurry up, and suit up! You're late, ring-jockey, get a move
on!" shouted a deep masculine voice. It sounded like Coach Briggs,
but not nearly as gravelly. Briggs had been the college's gymnastics
coach for over 25 years.
"Briggs is such a hard ass!" said a young male voice.
"Well, it's just cause it's his first gig as a full-on coach," said
the young naked blonde guy holding Blaine. Actually, he thought he
was just holding his gymnastics unitard, but up until moments ago it
had been a human being who hadn't even been born yet. He added, "I
wish I'd had a chance to shower before putting on this new suit."
"Don't worry about it, Briggs will have you sweating so badly by the
end of practice it won't matter," said the dark haired guy snapping
his suspenders in place. "I'll see you on the mats, Rob, looking
forward to seeing you do the iron cross."
"Right on!"
Blaine screamed mentally as the stinky right foot of some jock kid
naked Rob was shoved down his throat. He could taste the salty toes
as they headed for the unitard's sewn in feet. The leg hairs tickled
him. Another smelly foot worked its way down his throat. Then the
blond kid started to pull up. Blaine stared upward at the rapidly
descending tight hairy balls and cut cock, and in horror he realized
his perspective was from the inner crotch.
"Must turn my head!" screamed Blaine's mind silently. And he did. He
turned his head somehow. Perhaps his astral body turned, and perhaps
his real body lay on the floor of the abandoned locker room while his
astral body was bound to this garment. He didn't think that was it.
It felt too much like his own body.
Blaine was filled with a new horror as he stared outward from Rob's
crotch. He realized his mouth was now filled with Rob's cock and
balls. He felt the bulge fill his cheeks, the pubic hairs rubbed
against his tongue and inside his cheeks, and he could taste the sweat
and traces of old piss and dried cum. He wanted to cry.
Rob put his arms through the vest portion of Blaine and snapped his
suspenders into place. He paused to admire the fit. He had been used
to wearing a separate singlet and gymnastics trousers, but Coach
Briggs had special one piece uniforms custom made for the team. The
singlet was sewn inside the pants and served as the pants liner - no
jockstrap required.
Rob strode out of the locker room to chalk up. For the next four hours
he would be at Coach Briggs mercy.