Wednesday, November 28, 2018

Captain’s Crew - part 1: Monday is gonna be a bitch (written by Harry)

This is the first part of a wonderful sequel to Harry's awesome story Captain's Cradle featuring high school wrestler Logan and additional characters introduced in Fighting dirty (Damon meets Logan). I hope you'll enjoy it just as much as I do!

Previous parts:
Captain's Cradle

The two boys were sitting in a parked car behind Matthew V. Santos High while their classmates made their reluctant and winding ways toward the school entrance. At one time the public school building may have been grand, but decades later the dull bricks and struggling window air-conditioners didn’t do much to inspire its students. Despite the bright morning sunshine, nobody seemed eager to start the new week. Least of all Damon, whose hands were still wrapped around the steering wheel of his car as he stared through the window. His expression was unreadable.

Without looking up from his phone, his passenger gave an exasperated sigh. “Are we gonna go in soon? I’m afraid somebody’s gonna see me riding in this piece of shit.”

Damon’s car was not great. It was a faded red Lancer from the wrong side of the millennium. The rims sucked. The speakers sucked. But Damon loved it. He had busted his ass every weekend for the past two years bussing tables so that he could buy a car, and he was insanely proud of it. He even washed and vacuumed it weekly like it was some kind of collector’s item.

Without turning his head, Damon punched his brother Jaylen on the arm. “You’re gonna look real cool rolling up in the bus tomorrow.”

“Alright, alright. You’re right, they probably can’t see me,” he continued, sliding lower in his seat. Damon punched him again but didn’t move to open the door.

Most days Damon was happy enough to go to school. He wasn’t a nerd or a suck-up, but he was a decent student, and he was well-liked by almost all the students and faculty who knew him. He wasn’t arrogant enough to consider himself “popular,” but most of his peers recognized him and many admired him for being hard-working, friendly, and genuine. But on this particular Monday morning, Damon was not feeling his usual confidence. Last Friday he had been pinned in his own gym by a rival wrestler and friend from Bartlet High. Some kind of friend, Damon thought, frowning. His rival had not only beaten him, he had crushed his gonads and made him cream his singlet in front of his friends and teammates. Over the weekend the deep ache in Damon’s testicles had subsided, but his embarrassment had not, and he was not looking forward to encountering his classmates for the first time since his humiliation. I knew Monday was gonna be a bitch, he thought sullenly.

He was snapped out of his musing by the appearance of faces pressed against the windows on either side of his car, followed by thumping on the roof. Then the whole car began to rock back and forth slightly.

“Come on, Rafa, lean into it! We can flip this piece of shit over, no doubt,” came a muffled but familiar voice from outside. In a flash Damon was out of the car with fists clenched around the collar of a muscular, dark skinned young man. Even with his back pressed against the car, Malik wore a shit-eating grin and looked at his best friend with twinkling eyes. On the other side of the vehicle a slim Latino with boyish features was cracking up.

Damon shook his head and released the bigger guy, looking darkly at both of them. “Y’all better make sure there’s no finger prints on there before you come inside.” He grabbed his bag and walked slowly toward the school. Malik and Raphael bumped fists over the hood of the car and followed close behind.

“Bro, what do you think females do every other day of the year? Check out dudes and giggle. Or maybe giggle and then check out dudes. But some combination of those, no doubt, no doubt! These girls do not care about who won in wrestling.”

Malik and Damon were walking down the hall gradually making their way to lunch, and Malik was continuing a pep talk designed to snap Damon out of his low mood. Malik hated seeing his boy so down, and he hoped that his confident, light-hearted best friend would bounce back quickly. Malik was aware that they were getting attention from females as they walked along, but that was nothing new. Between Damon’s bright eyes and good looks and Malik’s bulging biceps and natural swagger, the two studs never had to fight for attention.

By time they got outside to their usual lunch spot, Damon’s mood was noticeably brighter. Rafael and his sister Lucinda were already there, along with Malik’s girl, Star, and a handful of other friends.

“Check this,” Malik said, elbowing Damon as they plopped down next to their friends. “Yo ladies, what you talking about?” He paused and looked around expectantly. “Dudes, am I right?” he asked, sounding very sure of himself.

Lucinda and Star looked at each other and rolled their eyes. “No, baby, we were talking about Vans and protein powder like usual,” Star replied, looking at Malik like he was an idiot.

“Damn right! That’s why you’re my girl, cause we got so much in common,” Malik bragged, trying to put his arm around her and getting swatted away. “I was just telling my boy here that y’all females have sophisticated conversations. Not like him, all he thinks about is cars and wrestling.”

Before he could change the subject, Lucinda interjected, “Mmm hmm, I know that for real. All I hear about from the girls all morning is wrestling.”

Malik looked at Lucinda incredulously as she gushed, “I’ve never been very interested in basketball, but wrestling, who knew it would be so…stimulating.” She raised one painted eyebrow lecherously. Malik’s jaw dropped; this was the last place he wanted this conversation to go. He shook his head vigorously from behind Damon, but Lucinda didn't take the hint. She picked up a banana from her lunch tray and continued. “Damon, I know some chics who will tear each other’s hair out for a seat at your next match. You so popular all of a sudden! I wonder why?” She sighed dramatically and fanned herself with the banana. Star gave a disapproving chuckle, while the males at the table fidgeted in embarrassment. Damon slumped his head onto the table with a clunk.

“Oye, callate!” Raphael hissed, exasperated by his twin’s antics. She glared back at him. “Don’t be jealous, hermanito, the girls are talking about you, too,” She paused. “Maybe there just isn’t as muuuch to talk about,” she finished, tracing her finger along the banana.

Raphael blushed crimson and looked away while the girls giggled. The cute black-haired twink had a perfectly average package with nothing to be ashamed of, but he was sensitive about being compared to his two well-endowed teammates. “Puta…” he mumbled.

Malik saw his boys looking sheepish and tried to take the heat off of them. “Damn looks like everybody’s got attention from the ladies except for me! Ain’t I got any ladies, mami?” he asked in a flirty voice, looking at Star. She brushed her long, beautiful braids back over her shoulder and smiled in reply. “I guess I could maybe think of one….”

“Yea, Nikki Minaj,” Lucinda interrupted, laughing. “She thought your ass looked big in your wrestling uniform, though!” This got everyone chuckling around the table, but Malik was not fazed. He did have a statuesque ass, but he knew that he was a fine looking stud all the same. He jumped up and started dancing on Lucinda like Minaj’s “Super Bass” video. Of course the sexy Latina was not one to be out-danced, and soon half of their crew was dancing while other clapped and cheered on their friends. Malik was happy to see that Damon and Rafael were laughing and looking carefree with the rest. Mission accomplished, he thought.


High school lunch hour was full of highs and lows, and it was no different for underclassmen. Jaylen and his best friend Timothy huddled at a table along the far wall of the cafeteria. The spot was perfect for their favorite lunch time activity: checking out freshman and sophomore girls, arguing over their best features and which of the two boys they would be more likely to hook up with. So far the semester had been filled with way more commentary than action for either boy, much to their dismay.

But today as the teens killed time in a reverie of fantasy and boasting, they kept getting interrupted by overly loud laughter from the table a few seats away. The sole occupant of that table was a fat boy with coal black skin and mean, piggy eyes. Whatever he was watching on his phone made him guffaw with his mouth full, spraying crumbs everywhere. Jaylen looked over and sighed in disgust. The fat boy must have felt eyes on him, since he looked up at Jaylen and gave a mocking smile and wave.

Jaylen waved back half-heartedly. Xavier was a teammate of his, so despite his distaste for the guy, he tried to be decent. Moreover, Xavier’s brother Malik was one of the coolest guys Jaylen knew. He could never understand how two such different characters could come from the same family. Malik never brought Xavier around, so Jaylen didn't even know he had a brother until wrestling tryouts. Xavier was definitely not an athlete, but he made the team as the JV heavyweight, mainly because no other underclassmen weighed more than 220 pounds. How much more than that Xavier weighed was a matter of speculation. His strategy in matches was not really to win so much as to be too big to move, and to wait for his opponents to trap themselves.

Xavier waved Jaylen over, and he begrudgingly went, bumping fists as teammates should. “What’s up, man,” he said in a neutral voice.

“Yo this video is funny as shit,” the heavy replied, holding his phone out so Jaylen could watch. The video was from their wrestling meet the previous week, and Jaylen immediately recognized himself wearing the referee’s shirt. Whoever made the video was sitting on the visitors’ team bench and had a very different angle on the match than Jaylen himself had had that evening. He watched in stoney silence, listening to whoever made the video laughing in the background. Jaylen felt sick to his stomach toward the end of the video, where he saw himself wave off the pin to the Bartlet wrestler, unable to see how the blond even at that moment was wrenching his brother’s nuts. To a casual observer, it could even appear like Jaylen was conspiring with the opponent! The defeated look on Damon’s face as he was pinned and the smug look of satisfaction on the blonde’s face were like gut punches to Jaylen. Watching was worse than if he himself had been pinned.

By time the video ended, Jaylen was seething. He coldly ignored Xavier’s obscene commentary about Damon’s boner and grabbed the fat boy by the front of his shirt. “Say it again, and I will beat your ass right here,” he snarled, looking directly into his mean, squinty eyes. “Show that to one other person, and I will end you,” he continued, only releasing Xavier’s shirt when Timothy’s hand landed on his shoulder to calm him down. With a final glare, he walked out of the cafeteria with the sound of Xavier’s mocking laughter still in his ears.


All during wrestling practice that afternoon, Jaylen worked like a man possessed. He was known to train hard and push himself, but even his teammates were surprised by his intensity. Every time he saw Xavier’s smirk, he thought of the blonde wrestler from Bartlet and vowed to get back at the stud for embarrassing him and his brother. Across the room Damon was laughing with his boys Malik and Raphael as if they didn’t have a care in the world. The freshman couldn’t understand how the older guys could let their humiliation the previous week just roll off them. Especially Malik, who never took shit from anyone.

After practice as Damon was leading the JV squad in rolling up the mats, Jaylen approached Malik and Raphael, who were talking conspiratorially in the locker room. “What’s up, homey?” Raphael said as they bumped fists. “You were hustling today. Good work.”

Jaylen ignored the compliment and got straight to the point. “I’m gonna fight that guy from Bartlet High. The blonde one,” he said bluntly. The upperclassmen exchanged serious looks.

“Hey little bro,” Malik began in a deep voice, “I understand that you’re mad, but you gotta take it easy. Fighting is not the answer to your issues.” Beside him Raphael nodded agreement at Malik’s uncharacteristically pacifist statement.

“But you both know he punked Damon! And you know Damon is too much of a good sport to go low like that asshole.” Jaylen was dumbfounded that these guys were willing to take that level of disrespect, and he was getting pissed all over again.

Malik smiled patiently. “Damon is an honorable competitor. He knows better than to go around punching people over a wrestling match.” Raphael was suddenly overcome by a coughing fit and had to turn away.

“Exactly. Damon is. But I’m at him whatever you pussies say.” Jaylen was nearly shouting in frustration.

“Patience, young grasshopper,” Malik continued, keeping up his lecture on serenity and non-violence. Eventually Raphael couldn’t hold it any longer. He busted out laughing, jabbing Malik in the side. “Oh man, how you gonna argue with that, bro? ‘Don’t go around punching people’ my ass! The kid sounds more like you than you do!”

Malik struggled to keep the serious look on his face, but his eyes were twinkling and the corners of his mouth threatened to break into a grin. Jaylen looked between the two upperclassmen uncomprehending, and soon Malik lost it and cracked up along with Raphael. As he turned back to Jaylen, his whole demeanor changed.

“Alright, alright, secret’s out. Of course we are going to beat that mother fucker’s ass! Who do you think you're talking to?” Malik glared at Jaylen and the heat of his words made the younger guy step back a bit. “I told Damon that dude was suspect from the start, and no way is he gonna disrespect our boy like that.” He paused, shaking some of the tension out of his clenched fists and bulging forearms. “Anyway, you ain’t even need to worry about it, young J. Consider it handled.” Next to Malik, Rafael did not look quite as fierce, but he looked every bit as determined.

The change of tone was so sudden that it took Jaylen a second to process. “Um, cool,” he replied, embarrassed when his voice broke a little bit. “So how are we going to find him?”

The older guys exchanged grins, and Rafael broke the bad news. “Good on you, homey. But you’re not coming. Damon might be pissed if he finds out what we do to Blondie, but he will straight kill us if we bring you along.”

Jaylen tried to argue, but Malik silenced him and picked up where Rafael left off, “Like I say, consider it handled. Maybe we’ll send you a picture. Blondie’s gonna have a sac of peanut butter when we’re done with him.” The guys laughed and bumped fists to cement their agreement.

Satisfied with their boasts, the two wrestlers turned back to their lockers to finish changing. Simultaneously they felt movement behind them and then each a sinking feeling as a fist closed around his set of testicles. Jaylen had seized his opportunity to make a more persuasive case by seizing the varsity studs’ most precious possessions. His grip was locked tight from behind, leaving them no opportunity to counter the hold. With Malik’s fat nads in his left hand, and Rafael’s entire junk in his right, Jaylen leaned forward so that his head was between theirs.

“I’m involved in this too. If anybody should crack that dude’s nuts, it should be me.” He emphasized the word ‘nuts’ by squeezing all four that he was currently holding. The bigger guys were frozen in place, staring forward, but they did not reply. “Please reconsider,” he continued in a conciliatory tone, “It would mean a lot to me.” He twisted his wrists without regard to the fragile contents in his grip.

“Uuhh Malik, he makes a good point,” Rafael squeaked. He was immediately rewarded when the grip on his goods eased up.

“Aw, Fuck nnn…ooooo-kkkkkk!!!” Jaylen pulled Malik’s bull nuts back between his legs, almost up his crack. Simultaneously the stud had a change of heart about their disagreement. “Fine fine, you’re in! You're in!”


A few minutes later, the plan was hashed out. The three teens were again friends and coconspirators, and the recent threats to their manhoods were forgotten.

Damon came around the corner, having already showered and changed. “There you guys are!” He noted a guilty look on Rafael’s face. Gotta love Rafa, Damon thought, Never can hide what he’s thinking. “What’s up dudes?” Damon asked cautiously. He noticed that Jaylen was pretending to be on his phone, and that Malik seemed very pleased with himself. He narrowed his eyes at his best friend.

“Captain! Just getting pumped up for the match this weekend!” Malik replied, over-enthusiastically. Rafael gave a tight, guilty smile, and his ears were pink.

Damon rolled his eyes. Whatever these guys were up to, they would tell him eventually. “Come on, J. Let’s bounce out of here before any fools try to bum a ride.” He turned toward the door, chuckling as he heard his friends scrambling to grab their bags and bickering over who called “shotgun” first.


Jaylen checked himself in his bedroom mirror, wondering whether he looked appropriately intimidating. His smooth cheeks and pretty eyes disappointed him in that regard. He sighed. He might not be a beefy fighter like Malik, or even like Rafael, but he was going to do his best to take down the asshole who bullied his brother.

Malik’s “plan” was pretty simple: find Logan after practice and beat the shit out of him. Jaylen doubted whether it would be exactly that easy. So he stocked his backpack with random stuff he might need, just in case. He was nervous and excited to be an accomplice to the older teens, and having a pack full of gear made the endeavor feel even more like a secret mission. He shut his bedroom door and stealthily descended the stairs that led up to his family’s second floor apartment, skipping the squeaky spots. He wanted to sneak out without Damon noticing, since he didn’t want his older brother asking questions. Jaylen had even taken the precaution to enlist help in distracting his bro if necessary. Once outside, Jaylen breathed easy. Now it was time to do some work!

Around the back of the building he unchained his bike from the low wooden railing. As he mounted, a heavy hand on his shoulder made him freeze. He spun around, startled. Jaylen flinched despite his brother’s friendly look and gave his best nonchalant grin in reply. Damon was shirtless and his chest had a slight sheen of sweat. He was wearing Santos High sweats and slides, and it appeared that he had been detailing his car again. “Where you heading?” Damon asked casually.

“Just rolling up to the park with some of the JV guys,” Jaylen lied, not meeting his eye.

“Cool. I’ll drive you,” Damon offered. Jaylen sighed. Damon was such a good brother. But the plan was set and he didn’t have time for a delay. Fortunately he had thought ahead and secured backup. Instead of accepting Damon’s offer, Jaylen put his fingers to his lips and gave a loud whistle. Nothing happened. Damon squinted at him like he was out of his mind.

“Uuh, so you wanna get in the car?” Damon began. Jaylen looked around. Where the fuck was Boom? he thought. He whistled again. Right on cue his backup came careening around the corner on a skateboard, crashing into Damon, board flying one way and its rider flying the other. Their ten year old brother Boom tumbled to a halt against the chain fence, not moving. Damon rushed over to help, only to find the boy giggling and miraculously unhurt. But looking up at Damon, his smile turned into a deep scowl. His small fist shot up directly between Damon’s legs and rocked his dangling ball sac. The older boy’s legs drew together and he became instantly nauseous.

“Guess what I found in your room?” Boom demanded. He was face to face with Damon since his brother was bent over with one hand on his knee and the other cradling his nuts. Damon squinted at his tyrannical baby brother and gave a questioning grunt. “The Heavyweight Championship of the World!” the boy yelled indignantly. He pointed to the plastic golden belt that he was presently wearing as if presenting it as evidence.

“Boom, I don’t know what…” Damon began, but he was interrupted as another uppercut sailed toward his family jewels. He was prepared this time and twisted away, catching the boy’s fist and holding him tight.

“Jaylen said you’d say that,” Boom accused, squirming and struggling. “He told me I would find it in your room and I did!” Damon turned and glared at his other brother. Jaylen wore a guilty look and gave an unconvincing half shrug of denial.

Meanwhile Boom wriggled around and threw another punch that scored a direct hit, rocking Damon’s ball bag inside of his loose sweats. He groaned and dropped to his knees, covering his crotch from further attack. Their littlest brother was a scrapper with an uncanny knack for nailing his older siblings in what he called their “privates.” His special ability evened the odds during their inevitable sibling roughhousing, but of course the older boys found his tactics particularly unlucky.

“Ouch,” Jaylen said under his breath. He felt slightly guilty for playing the Boom card, but he nevertheless took the opportunity presented to tiptoe around his distracted siblings and down the hall to the alley. On his way he picked up the discarded “Heavyweight Championship” belt and stuffed it in his backpack. Just because he couldn’t resist stirring up shit. But as he went to mount his bike for the second time, a firm hand gripped his shoulder and spun him around. Damon’s face was inches from his own, and even though his older brother was only an inch or so taller, Jaylen suddenly felt very small indeed.

“Not cool, bro! Sicking Boom on me is messed up. What are you getting into?” Damon paused as a guess started to take shape in his mind. “Please do not tell me that you are involved in whatever fool shit Malik is going to start.” Damon clearly knew Malik very well, and despite himself, Jaylen grinned at his brother’s accurate guess. “J, trust me, Malik’s temper gets him into trouble, and I don’t want…eeegghhuuughgh…”

Damon’s big brother speech gurgled to halt, and his soft brown eyes went wide. At first Jaylen was concerned that he was choking. Then he noticed Boom’s head poking out from behind Damon, and he heard the words that paralyze the men of his family with fear: “The Mandible Claaaaaaaawwww!” Boom crowed. Jaylen looked down to see that, sure enough, Boom’s claw hold was locked tightly onto Damon’s boy bits. Damon’s thin sweats and loose boxers offered little protection, and it looked like Boom had captured one of his meaty nads in each hand.

Damon usually laughed at the boy’s love of pro wrestling jargon, especially when he clearly had no idea what “mandible” meant. He wasn’t laughing today though, as his strength seeped out through his own “mandibles” and his weight sagged against Jaylen.

“Sorry bro,” Jaylen muttered as he let Damon drop to his knees, cradling his violated manhood. Boom roared his victory and tackled his oldest brother the rest of the way onto his back. He sat perched atop Damon’s strong chest and flexed his skinny arms while the teen tried to rub life back into his crushed gonads. “Still the Champ!” he boasted, and Damon was in no position to argue. Meanwhile, Jaylen was already on his bike and long gone. He checked his watch. Damn, he thought, I’m late.


Rafael was doing his best to be inconspicuous. Malik thought they should enter the school from different directions to avoid attracting attention as outsiders, but it made Rafael a little uneasy. The boyish-looking Latino had tried to dress preppy for their mission to Bartlet High, the “nicer” high school located in a more affluent neighborhood than Matthew V. Santos High. He wore a pink polo that hugged his tight torso and contrasted nicely with his caramel colored skin. Some faded jeans and a backwards ball cap finished the look.

The plan was to find Blondie after practice, when there would be fewer students around. They knew the rival wrestling captain would put up a fight, and they didn’t want to accidentally pick a fight with the whole team. Rafael cut through the deserted weight room, admiring the expensive equipment. Rounding the corner and into the locker room, he tripped over someone crouched just outside the door. He heard a loud “OOFF” as he tumbled to the ground. Shaking off his surprise, Rafael realized he was sprawled on top of young man and a pile of jump ropes. He looked down at the guy he had just bowled over. Faint freckles ran over the bridge of the teen’s nose and cheekbones, standing out against his creamy skin. His bright red hair was spiked up fashionably, and a nose piercing gave him a slightly edgy look. Rafael saw the flash of recognition in the boy’s hazel eyes, and he scrambled off of him as if he’d fallen into a fire.

CJ blinked and found himself looking up into the dark, shy eyes of the Latino guy he had wrestled the week before. Then he blinked again, and the boy was gone. He sat up, and sure enough, there he was again, looking at CJ suspiciously. “What are you doing here?” they both demanded simultaneously. This caused CJ to laugh loudly and Rafael to blush.

CJ answered first. “Umm. Hi. I go to school here.” He declined to tell Rafael that he was ordered to stay after practice to put up the equipment because he was deemed the laziest by his captain. The pile of tangled jump ropes spoke for itself. “I’m CJ,” he said, holding out his hand.

Rafael shook hands with what he hoped was a firm and intimidating grip. “Rafael,” CJ repeated, after the other teen had said his name. The way CJ said it sounded like he was savoring the sound. “What are you doing here, Rafael?” CJ asked curiously.

Rafael stood up and smoothed out his appearance. “I’m looking for somebody,” he said bravely, but he did not meet CJ’s eyes.

The redhead grinned. He remembered Rafael well and had thought about the sexy Latino frequently over the weekend since their match. Of course CJ had been flirty during their match, because he was always flirty. But even though he had made his interest apparent, it never occurred to him that it would be reciprocated. Until now. “Wow. Yeah,” he began in a husky voice. He moved toward Rafael, who stepped back nervously. The two guys stood facing each other awkwardly.

“So, uhh, how’s wrestling going?” CJ asked cheerfully, trying again to break the ice. Rafael scowled, remembering how the redhead’s hands were all over his cock and ass during their match. “Last time was your first match, right? You looked really great in your singlet.” CJ continued boldly, but in a low voice. Rafael’s cheeks were on fire.

CJ stepped forward and looked intently into Rafael’s dark eyes. “You’re looking for somebody, right?” he asked. Rafael nodded. CJ took his hand and moved so close that he could hear the cute boy’s breath catch in his throat. Then, for the second time in as many minutes, Rafael surprised him. Rafael’s knee rose sharply between his legs, nailing his balls through his thin gym shorts. CJ’s face was only a few inches away from his, and Raphael saw the twink’s eyes widen in shock. His shock turned to misery when Raphael’s knee rose again, mashing his tenderized nuggets once more. The redhead sank slowly to his knees, howling in pain.

Raphael acted quickly. He needed to hurry, but he couldn’t have CJ interfering if he happened to encounter Blondie before Malik and Jaylen arrived. He grabbed one of the jump ropes from the pile and used it to bind CJ’s hands. The pale ginger was too preoccupied mewling about the pain between his legs to put up more than token resistance. Before CJ knew it, the binding rope was hooked over a nearby shower head, locking his arms over his head. He was not going anywhere.

Rafael stepped back and examined his work. Perfect. CJ’s position caused his tee shirt to ride up, exposing his smooth, defined abs. The mound in his gym shorts—which he wished he was able to cradle—made him look vulnerable and sexy. His eyes were partly closed to block out the pain that pulsed from his crotch upward into his guts. Raphael realized he’d been staring, and he shook his head vigorously. Don’t get distracted! he thought.

He was half way down the hall when he heard CJ’s hoarse voice from behind him: “Hey Siri,” he paused. “Call Logan.” Raphael panicked and retraced his steps, only to hear the disembodied voice say, “Calling Logan Krueger…”

Raphael heard the phone ringing, but he didn’t see it anywhere. He raced over to CJ and pressed his hand over his mouth just as Logan’s voice answered. CJ smirked at him despite the situation, and mumbled behind Raphael’s hand. Raphael pressed down harder and searched CJ’s pockets for the phone. He switched it off and sighed in relief.

“Hhmmm..mmhmuhmuh…” CJ attempted to voice his protest until Rafael removed his hand. “Well, you have me all to yourself,” he said in a cheeky voice. “Now what?”

“I’m not here because of you,” Rafael replied heatedly. The two boys were similar in height and their eyes were just a few inches apart.

“But your hand is on my ass,” CJ countered, wiggling his hips. As his captive twisted, Rafael felt something warm and hard press against his leg. He hadn’t realized that he’d left his hand in CJ’s back pocket after he’d switched off the phone; he quickly withdrew it and backed away like he had seen a ghost.

“Pinche idiota,” Rafael spat. His whole face and neck were as pink as his shirt. CJ laughed, surprised and delighted to be in control of the situation, despite being tied up. The shy Latino boy felt like he was being mocked and stood uncertainly in the middle of the room. His eyes fell on the pile of jump ropes still tangled by the door, and suddenly he knew how he would shut up his rival. Grabbing one end of the rope, he approached CJ, keeping his expression carefully neutral. Rafael took a deep breath and boldly grabbed the bound ginger’s boner, causing him to gasp in surprise. CJ had a nice sized dick that curved noticeably back toward his abs. Rafael had never felt another guy’s erection before, and it was even warmer and harder than he expected.

Maintaining eye contact, Rafael moved his hand lower, delicately weighing the redhead’s cum-filled balls. CJ’s eyes fluttered, half-closed, and he gave up trying to be in control of the situation. Rafael meanwhile took the jump rope and looped it twice around CJ’s package and over the top of his eager erection. Then he pulled tight, trapping those loose nuts low in their sac and bending CJ’s curved cock away from his body. CJ’s eyes snapped open, and he howled in pain and confusion as Rafael quickly tied the other end of the rope around the post of the opposite shower.

Looking over his handiwork, Rafael’s self-consciousness returned. Something about this guy made him act crazy, and that was making him anxious. He turned and was almost out the door, when he heard a soft sniffle and turned around. CJ was looking down mournfully over his ridiculously jutting bulge and trapped nuts. His hazel eyes were teary, and his head slumped dejectedly. He looked like a sad puppy.

As if moving under their own power, Rafael’s feet carried him back until he was face to face with the pitiful teen. CJ looked emotional but defiant, as he shifted uncomfortably in his bounds. When Rafael’s lips covered his, he was too shocked even to return the kiss, he just parted his lips for the briefest of moments. After the kiss broke, CJ looked at Raphael in bewilderment, searching his cute face and dark eyes for some kind of explanation. The moment was too intense for Raphael, who backpedaled quickly toward the door. As bad luck would have it, he tripped over the rope that was attached to CJ’s junk, wrenching his trapped testicles and making the ginger howl in a fresh wave of agony. Rafael stumbled forward and out the door before things could get any weirder.

Racing down the hall toward the wrestling practice room, Rafael checked his watch. Carajo, he thought, I’m late.


Part 2 is coming on Friday!


Lenny Bennu said...

I loved it! Great, fresh perspective and I'm looking forward to the next one!

Harry said...

Lenny, thanks for commenting, and I'm glad you enjoyed the story! The second half is coming Friday, so please check it out!