Lennie went to the football tryouts, but he struggled to do any task with great skill or success. He performed so poorly in his mind, that he felt
he was going to get cut at the end of the day.
The first go around, they tried him at kicker. He kept missing short on all of the kicks, as he couldn’t get much lift on his kicks.
Later, they tried him at running back. It was an up the middle play, but Lennie then got scared, and yelled in a high voice girlishly, before
ducking and curling up into the ball to take a dive before they were about to tackle him.
And then, they tried him at quarterback.
On one particular throw, he throw an errant pass to a wide receiver, before getting hit so hard by a defensive end, that it nearly crushed his
ribs, prompting him to yelp weakly in pain in a girly, falsetto voice.
On the next play, he decided to feign a concussion the next time he saw a defender, and decided to take a sack.
At the practice facility, they took him inside the men’s locker room to examine his head, which revealed no severe symptoms. He managed to
walk into a stall to sit on a toilet, as he fell asleep.
Lennie went there to follow Bruce, a boy he liked when he was a girl to follow him on the football.
Inside his dream, he dreamt of making love to him, of assfucking him, of getting assfucked, before performing a 69 on him. He was in the
middle of dreaming about getting his dick sucked while sucking another dude’s dong, dreaming of a warm cock in his mouth, of being an uber
femme, sissy gayboy, before he woke up, wanting to paint his nails black and pink and wanting to dildo his giant, round ass.
He looked up to see who it was, as he rubbed his eyes.
It was the coach.
He told Lennie as he touched his shoulder, “Son, I know it’s just nerves you’re showing out there. You’re a damn good player, I know because
you have the ability. It’s in you. I feel you can be a real ‘Slash’ type of athlete. A real thoroughbred. But you’re a quarterback and a leader
first and foremost. You’re going to be on the team, because I like you, but I have to keep an eye on you. Also, all athletes shower nude, so be
prepped to bring you’re A-game next time.”
“Plus, every team needs a whipping boy. If you play well, we may just make you captain.”
Lennie laughed nervously, “If I start and play well, the ladies will flock to me.”
They laughed raucously, as the coach said to him, “Lennie, you’re a good boy.”
The coach then walked out.
Did Lennie just hear that right? That he was going to be on the team? That the coach told him he was a good football player? Or was he
dreaming? Or was the coach secretly attracted to him? Lennie was unsure because he still had his small, slender, sleek body along with his
rotund, soft fleshy butt that was unaccustomed to much physical contact or sports in general. Meanwhile, Lennie still wondered about Bruce,
who he assumed was still out there on the practice field.