Brian continued to stare down at me in silence. I didn’t know what to do; what he wanted so I squeaked out:
“Umm, I’ll get him off with my tongue Sir.” He continued to stare, but raised one eye brow expectantly. I started to panic and bit my lip, crouching down into myself. Brian picked his moment perfectly, right when I was vulnerable and just starting to withdraw but before the feeling had a chance to set in. He knelt in front of me, and used firm finger tips to tilt my head up, forcing me to hold his eyes that I so desperately wanted to see pride in.
“Of course you will little one. I told you to do it so of course you’ll do it.” I nodded emphatically, though with his fingers still holding me, my head didn’t move much. “But because I had to ask twice, you’re tongue is going to get an additional work out; from now on, after each training, you’re going to be collecting the team’s sweaty, smelly jock straps – with those hands tied behind your back of course. And I seem to recall you whining about doing something humiliating.” Brian reached around and squeezed the back of my neck reassuringly, “you’ve got to learn little one that humiliation that good boys don’t worry about; all you have to worry about is hopping to when I say jump okay?” I nodded again. “Good boy, so once you have collected all of the jock straps into a pile, while the rest of the team showers and gets changed, you’re going to start licking those tasty jocks clean.”
My eye’s widened and I tried to shrink down further but Brian held me firmly in place. I was so humiliated, I couldn’t do that, certainly not in front of everyone while they casually went about getting dressed after training. But as Brian held my gaze, I knew I could do it and would do it. I so wanted there to be pride in there.
The next training I was a mess. I was so nervous about what I knew was coming I could hardly pick up a ball. When finally coach did end the training and we all marched back to the showers, I shrank back into the corner, trying to hide from the inevitable until Brian spoke up,
“Alright boys, our little slave here is going to be doing some chores for us so he’s been tasked with collecting everyone’s jocks and cleaning them okay.” And without further ado, Brian cuffed my hands behind my back and pushed me forward into the centre of the room, in front of twenty staring sets of eyes.
Modesty was out of the question so I just stood nervously. One of the lads threw his jock towards me and it hit the ground a foot in front of me. Thank goodness, it wouldn’t be so bad if they all…. They didn’t. I saw another teammate strip down his jocks and leave them on the floor where he stood, grinning all the while at me. I moved over and got down to my knees on the cool tiles, bending to pick up his sweaty underwear. His smell was deep and musky and I was intoxicated enough almost to forget what I was doing. Another jock hitting the back of my head shook me out of my reprieve.
I hurried around and collected jocks awkwardly, my abs straining with having to support my torso without the use of my hands every time I knelt to pick one up. I cleared most of the team but noticed one guy, Jeff who hadn’t taken his jock off yet. It had been Jeff the other day that I’d refused to get off. He just stood there, waiting patiently, staring at me. Oh. I moved over and knelt in front of him, peering up to see if this was what he wanted. I needed that jock! I stretched up to bite the waist band and start to tug it down but Jeff admonished,
“Oh no boy, I’m going to get what you owe me. But first, you want this jock. You NEED this jock so you can complete your jock washing duties. Without this jock, you’ll be in a heap of trouble. You DO realize that, right?
“Um, yes Sir.”
“Ok then, since we both have an understanding on how much you NEED this jock, I want you to beg for it.”
I felt even more humiliated now. BEG for it? Was he joking? As soon as that though had entered my mind, I could instantly see from the stern look in his eyes that he definitely wasn’t joking. So I gave it my best shot (ok maybe not my best shot), “Can I please have your jock Sir?”
“Not good enough, you’ll have to do a lot better than that,” he commanded. “On your knees, begging nicely like any dog.”
I tried again, “Please Sir, could I please tongue wash your jock?”
“Hmm, you don’t really look like a dog begging. There’s something wrong with your position, for starters, that and your attitude. Lets try adding this.” He grabbed a pair of underwear out of his locker, then put it around my head, and let it hang from my neck like almost like a dog collar.
I tried again, “Please Sir, may I lick your sweaty jock clean?”
“I think you’ve almost got it. You look pretty humiliated, what you’re saying shows it, but there’s something missing.” He adjusted his underwear that was around my neck. “I went for a 4 km run in these, each of 3 days this week. I was saving them for just such an occasion.” He pulled them up and wrapped them around my face, making sure to tuck part of them deep in my mouth, the part of them where his dick and balls were sweating heavily throughout his 4 km runs. Then he removed the handcuffs. “Now try one more time.”
I couldn’t believe he was making me go so far. But I knew it would only get more humiliating if I didn’t go all the way. So I sat up higher on my knees, but my hands up as if they were a puppy’s paws, and
“Pheeze hir ay I ick your hweaty ock keen?”
He laughed, at my expense, “Hahaha, MUCH better. You can start your tongue washing now.” I knew the rest of the team heard and I was to afraid to see the laughter in their eyes if I turned around so I set to, using my tongue to lap against the fabric of Jeff’s jock strap. I have to admit, he tasted great, but that didn’t make it any less humiliating.