The Team Bets it All - Part 2

by Nathan

Sequels rarely do justice to an original story, but somehow this story begs for one. If you missed the prelude I suggest you read it before you read this one, and while this story will stand alone it will make more sense after the first story has been read.

The Team Bets it All - The Aftermath

All hell broke loose Monday morning. While the bet and the team thrashing that followed had somehow slipped past the faculty of two high schools when it was being done, by the time Monday morning had rolled around that had all changed, and what had transpired was very well known throughout the community. I suppose that wasn’t that surprising, since half the school had been there to watch, but I never suspected we would make the local paper. The principal, and most of the faculty, were more than a little embarrassed, and suffice it to say that the very idea that an entire high school football team had been strapped on their naked bottoms after a homecoming game didn’t sit very well with more than a few people in the community, even in a community where school corporal punishment was still condoned. I, along with most of the team, spent the majority of Monday explaining ourselves, what had happened, and why, and by the time I had told my side of things for the tenth time I knew it was a lot bigger deal than we had realized.

A few reporters were even there, and the police too, and lots of parents as well, and I think the principal and the coaches spent a good part of the day trying to explain how it had happened. Of course, the fact they didn’t know about it beforehand didn’t help that much, and the more people learned about what had transpired the worse things seemed to get. There was a threat of suspension, which didn’t materialize, and talk of ending the football season early, but that too was finally put aside. Still, there were more than a few teachers that weren’t very happy about any of it, and even more parents that were less than thrilled.

Somehow, we all made it through that Monday, and then, right after school when I showed up for football practice the problems intensified even more, at least for me. I suppose I should have expected something, and of course we all knew that our coach was certainly going to have a few things to say, but I never suspected things were going to go in the direction they did. As it turned out, the entire football team was in the gym, dressing out, preparing for another practice almost as if nothing had happened when the coach walked in. I had just pulled my underwear off and was reaching for my jock when the room went silent. When I turned to look the coach was there, at the end of the locker room, staring down the row of benches and with a look of anger on his face that was unmistakable. He was holding a paddle in his right hand, and while I knew he had one and knew in theory it could be used, I had never actually seen it brought into play. Up until that moment, it had been more of a threat than a worry, and most of us just thought of it as an ornament for his office and nothing more.

I mean, high school kids don’t get paddled, at least not normally, and I had never heard of anyone actually taking a swat in our school. But corporal punishment was still allowed in our county and we all knew it. Still, none of us could remember the last kid that had been paddled, but right then, as soon as I saw it in his hand, I knew without any question that was all about to change. I stared at the piece of wood in his hand, and then at him, and he locked eyes with me and my heart started to pound. The paddle was big, and the holes caught the light and it was there, in his right hand, waiting, and I knew right then that it was waiting for me.

Then, almost as if to confirm my thoughts, his voice boomed out across the entire locker room: "BENTER, UP FRONT, RIGHT NOW! YOU TOO KRASTER! I’VE HAD IT WITH BOTH OF YOU IDIIOTS!"

I could have died! I started to reach for my underwear, but he saw me and said "DON’T BOTHER GETTING DRESSED KRASTER, AND FORGET THE TOWEL TOO. APPARENTLY YOU GUYS ENJOY BEING SPANKED BARE ASSED, AND I WOULDN’T WANT TO DISAPPOINT YOU. UP FRONT, NOW!!!!" he barked, and his voice was so loud it made me jump.

Damn!

I was scared shitless! I had never been paddled at school, and not by my parents either, and I’d never even seen anyone paddled by the coach, ever. And, to top it all, the truth be known my ass was still pretty sore from the belting it had received that previous Friday. But the coach didn’t care, or at least didn’t seem to care, and as I slowly walked to the end of the locker room I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Every eye of course was on me, and Tim, and while I tried to look cool while I made the walk of shame, all I could do was stare straight ahead, and try not to think of all of the guys as they stared at me. The truth of course was there was no way to make that walk and keep your dignity, not with your dick hanging down from your pubic hair and your teenage scrotum swinging beneath your legs for all the world to see.

Fuck!

The locker room was set up so that there was a long bench that ran the length of the room, between two rows of lockers, and the coach was at one end next to the towel rack, near to where his office was. Timothy Benter and I walked together. I still had my t-shirt on, but he was totally naked, and I followed him down the room and was soon standing in front of the coach. I was on the left side of the bench, and Tim was on the right. Every single guy on the team was watching to see what was going to happen, and the room was so quiet at that point you could have heard a pin hit the floor.

When we were standing in front of the coach, he stared down at us, and then he lowered his voice, and said: "OK....I want to hear it straight. I’ve been told that it was you two idiots that made the bet, and put the entire team on display in front of two high schools. I can’t believe you’re that stupid, so if there is an explanation here let’s hear it."

I looked at our quarterback, and he looked at me. What the fuck could we say? Tim finally began to speak, telling how Ryan Gibbons had egged us on, baited us really, and he tried to make it sound like a challenge that couldn’t be ignored. It didn’t work, and the coach was anything but receptive. With some prodding, Tim admitting that we had agreed to the bet, and when asked I fessed up to being the one who had come up with the idea of putting the entire team’s bottoms on the line. It didn’t seem there was any point in lying about it, and paddle or no paddle, everyone already knew what we had done.

Finally, the coach said: "Well, you two have brought shame down on your entire team, and this school. Benter, I can’t believe you are that stupid. I just can’t."

Then turning to me, he said: "And you, Kraster, what kind of an idiot comes up with an idea to spank an entire football team? Plain and simple son, you’re an even bigger idiot than Benter."

Then he reached around to the towel rack, and picked up an entire armful of towels, and just dropped them on the bench in front of us while everyone watched. Our school colors are green and blue, and the school towels are a deep plush cotton, colored dark green and dark blue to match our logo. I had no idea what he was up to. But he tossed a stack of them on the bench, about a foot high, and then he said "OK Benter, get yourself over the towels, now. I want you straddling the bench, and the towels, with your hands on the floor and your ass up in the air. You’re getting six, six swats, right on the bare, and I hope to GOD you learn your lesson."

I could have died!

There was nothing else that needed to be said, and we didn’t argue. Still, it was hard to believe, and yet the towels were real enough and so was the paddle. Shit! I was looking it then, and it was shiny in the light of the room, the varnished surface glistening. Sixteen. I counted the sixteen holes for some reason, each about a quarter inch in diameter, and I knew as I looked at it the thing was going to sting like shit. It was a big paddle, roughly eighteen inches long, and the way the coach was gripping the handle it struck me almost as if it was a weapon, just waiting to pulverize my ass. God my heart was pounding as I was looking at it, and as the coach moved it I noticed the thing was at least a good half inch thick. Yeah, without any doubt it was gonna hurt like hell!

Then, as I watched, Timothy Benter bent himself over the towels, his two legs on each side of the bench, straddling it as if it was a woman. As he was doing that I stole a look at his cock, which was about four inches long right then and hanging down, the boy’s foreskin covering the tip and hiding the head from view. As I watched he straddled the towels, and then it was lost from my view as he lowered himself down and put his hands on the floor. In that position his entire teenage bottom was sticking up in the air, and I was standing right next to him. It was a hell of a view!

The boy was built, and his blond leg hair grew like down and covered his legs, thickening up and turning darker between his legs where it grew in a ring around his hole, his anus clearly visible, and all puckered up with the boy’s pink ring of muscle. The two cheeks of his ass were spread wide, sticking up high in the air almost as if they were begging for the paddle that was coming their way. I could see everything, and there was nothing left to the imagination.

The position was totally humiliating, and it occurred to me that it looked like he was mounting the towels as if to fuck them. Of course, that wasn’t the intention, but it was the impression that I had. Once he was in position his legs were spread wide, and his cock was resting on the towels beneath him and his balls were hanging down between his legs for everyone to see. I was so close to him I could see the sweat glistening off his back, and his two nuts were swinging there, each individual orb clearly defined in his hanging scrotum. In the hot room his sac was hanging like a bull’s balls hang, his big nuts a testament to his vitality as a teenage male. I could see everything, and even the individual blond hairs that were growing over his balls. His nuts held my attention, and they were clearly visible beneath his legs, hanging there and swinging when he moved for all the world to see. He had a big scrotum, a lot bigger than my own, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of it.

He was facing the coach, so his ass was right there, in front of me, pointing back down the room, and all of us could see everything as if he was on display. The coach came forward with the paddle, around to his side, and then gently laid it against our quarterback’s lily white bottom, letting it rest there. Then he said, OK then, let’s count em out Benter, one at a time.

My heart was pounding. He was really going to be paddled, and I was next! Shit!

Fuck!

Then, as I stood there watching, the coach raised the paddle high, and brought it down against the teenager’s bottom with a hard crack that literally reverberated through the entire locker room. It sounded like a rifle shot, and was louder and more distinct than any sound I had ever heard there before. When that paddle contacted the boy’s bottom he tossed his head back and grunted, and I saw his hips rise up and then back down again, as he fought the feeling and tried to handle the burn. I could see his face, and he bit down on his lower lip to stifle any sound.

The coach waited, and then he said "COUNT EM OUT MISTER, OF WE’LL START OVER."

"One..." Tim said, in a contrite voice, trying his hardest to please the coach.

The coach raised his arm high then, lifting the paddle back into the air and then bringing it back down so fast it was blurred.

"CRACKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!" went the paddle for the second time.

"YEOWWWW!" Tim yelped out, and then once again he bucked his hips, driving himself forward into the stack of towels almost as if he was mounting a girl. As I watched him make the thrust, I could see his big nuts as they swung between his legs. The burn was increasing in intensity, and there was a red mark across his ass that was so bright it looked like paint. He was hurting, and that was obvious, and as we all watched he started to move his ass after that, up and down in a way, perhaps trying to relieve the misery that the paddle was bringing to his rear. I was still staring at his balls, and his ass, and his hole, and as I was my dick began to stir and I had this terrible thought I was going to pop a bone. OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK!

No!

"Two sir" he said, his voice taking on an edge to it even as he continued to move his hips in a desperate attempt to dodge the blows.

The coach paused, and rubbed the paddle across his rear, gently sliding it back and forth so we could all see it. Then, without any warning, he pulled it back and high, and then brought it down once again with a vengeance.

"POWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" the paddle slammed into his rear.

Tim grunted with the blow, and then he bucked his hips and drove himself into the towel with greater enthusiasm after that, making that fucking motion that all teenage males know how to do. Right after he grunted his lips parted and he said "OH...OH SHIT THAT FUCKING BURNS!"

"WATCH YOUR MOUTH MISTER, AND COUNT EM OUT" the coach said, his voice louder now.

"Ahhh....ur THREE!" he said, his voice cracking like a thirteen year olds.

The paddle was getting to him!

I was staring at him, at his nuts and his bobbing ass and the red color it was turning, and my cock started to really grow then, moving outward from my body and stiffening by the second. I was facing away from the guys, but the coach could see me easily enough, and I know my face flushed red, bright red, as red as his bottom. My hands went down then, to cover my dick, to try and hold it down and to keep it from doing what it seemed to be doing. Even so, as I saw the paddle slam into his ass for the fourth time, my cock grew even stiffer, and there was nothing I could do to prevent the unpreventable. The way he was moving his hips had my full attention, and in my mind it was if I was watching him hump the bench, his hips going up and down and up and down. As I watched the big teenager’s red bottom gyrating, it just seemed almost like he was fucking the towels, and while he wasn’t of course the impression was there, and before I knew it I was fully boned!

God he had a lot of hair around his hole!

CRACKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!

"ARGHHHHHHHHHHHH" he yelled louder this time, and then his voice cracked like a little boy’s, and as he counted out the fifth stroke his voice was in a whimper and he sounded like a ten year old.

His face was turned sideways to me, and I saw him notice my boner, and I wanted to die. The tears were welling up there then, his face one of despair and misery and defeat.

Shit, I was next!

The coach was rubbing the half inch thick piece of maple across his bottom again, working it there as the boy’s hips gyrated and he moved his bottom from side to side. He sure didn’t like the feel of the paddle! The coach seemed to savor the moment, letting the boy jerk and move his hips, his eyes watered up and his face in a grimace as he anticipated the burn still to come.

He didn’t have to wait very long. The coach pulled his arm, high into the air, and then in a full swing as hard as he could, he brought that big piece of wood down and into the boy’s bottom, slamming it across both cheeks so hard he grunted. He never really wailed, but the tears were there in his eyes. As he took the last hit his eyes went wide open, and he gasped, and he jerked his hips rapidly, slamming his body in a thrusting motion which for a brief moment was almost as intense as if he was trying to fuck a girl.

I figured in reality he was just trying to relieve the burn, but a few guys laughed at the image, and I was watching his hole and the way it seemed to wink at me. He grunted, and gasped, trying to hold back the tears, and then he sucked in his snot and gasped again, the look turning to shock perhaps as he was overwhelmed with feelings beyond his control.

Finally, he seemed to collapse, and he just lay there then, unmoving. Then, the coach said "OK....get up Benter, and turn around and face your teammates and give them an apology. And it had better be sincere."

As Tim got off the towels I noticed two things which I’ll never forget. One, was there was this little tiny bit of slime in the towel that I couldn’t take my eyes off of. It wasn’t that he had shot his wad because there wasn’t that much of it, but there was enough to see that something had oozed out of his cock during his spanking, and it was there like a little dab of paint. Since I was standing close to it I could see it very plainly, although I’m not sure it could be seen from the angle most of the guys were looking from.

The other thing I’ll never forget was his dick, because it had been transformed during his paddling. Tim’s cock had grown thick during his punishment as he had rubbed it through the towels, and so when he turned around to face the group he was fully erect, and his massive cock was literally bobbing outward and upward, a full boner that I think surprised everyone. He was rock hard! Tim’s cock was huge, and thick, a man’s rod if ever I saw one, and compared to my own thin teenage pole his was massive and jutting. The teenager’s foreskin was fully retracted too, and the big end of his dick was round and purple and glistening in the light of the room. The very end was shiny and wet, and he looked so eager at that point I was surprised he hadn’t ejaculated.

The coach never mentioned his boner. Instead, he said "Ok Benter, lets here an apology, or we can do this again and give you another six."

Tim’s voice was a mess, and he sounded like a well spanked little boy more than a teenager, but he somehow babbled out an apology. The confidence in his voice we were all so used to hearing was gone, and as I listened to him apologize for his stupidity I stared down at the towels, and the little bit of slime he had deposited there. Looking at it made my own dick go even harder, and I was as hard as he was. I was trying to cover up my own dick and hold it down though, but it was way too stiff at that point, and while I would have done anything to get it soft I was powerless to do anything but stand there and listen, my hands covering my prick as best I could, waiting for my own turn over the towels.

When he was done with his apology, the coach turned his attention to me, and totally ignoring my own boner, or the little puddle of jism left by our quarterback, he said: "OK Kraster, your turn. Over the towels and get that misbehaving ass of yours perched up nice and high. You’re getting six too, and just be thankful I’m not giving you more."

I had the thought that perhaps I should asked to take off the top towel, because I really didn’t want to put my dick into Tim’s dap of spunk, or whatever the hell it was. I was looking at it there, and I didn’t know what to do. It was gross, and my heart pounded as I looked at it. As I hesitated, the coach grew impatient.

"MOVE IT KRASTER, AND GET YOUR ASS OVER THE TOWELS AND UP IN THE AIR, RIGHT NOW!"

I jumped, and then went straight over the towels anyway, ignoring Tim’s goop and just spreading my legs as I straddled the bench. Shit! My dick was so hard that when I let go of it and put my hands out to get myself into position, my dick popped upward until it slapped my belly. Fuck I was hard! Several guys on the team laughed, and I heard someone say "He’s got a boner too!" in the back of the room. Shit! There was nothing I could do about it. When I straddled the bench with my jutting boner I felt like I was mounting the towels like they were a girl, and it was so fucking humiliating I wanted to die! I felt so exposed and so embarrassed I can’t really describe it. Still, there was nothing really I could do but to just lay down over them, my stiff dick resting on the towels and with my balls swinging like plums for everyone to see. The weird part was that as I lay down and straddled those towels, I felt Tim’s wetness there, right on the end of my own dick, and I know I gasped when I felt his jism. It was like I was sliding literally into his spunk, and while it wasn’t a full load of cream there was something there and I could feel it. The weird part too is that my own teenage pole grew even harder then, and I was rock hard after that, as hard as I had ever been in my entire life.

"HANDS ON THE FLOOR, AND COUNT EM OUT!"

I put my hands on the floor, which brought my chest down to the bench, and that in turn forced my bottom even higher into the air, so it was perched up really high and it was almost as if my rear was eager for what was about to transpire. I knew my hole was visible to everyone, and for a second I had the stupid thought that I sure hoped it was clean. That’s when the coach brought the paddle to my rear, and started to rub the face of the wood across my bottom, sliding it back and forth. I wiggled my rear, in anticipation I think, and as I moved I could feel Tim’s warm spunk on my dick, the end of my cock sliding through the boy’s slippery jism that had seeped out of his dick. I hadn’t jacked off all weekend, and suddenly it occurred to me that my own balls were full of cream. I knew right then, as I felt Tim’s wad and my boner poking into the stack of towels, I was in very serious trouble.

CRACKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!

I heard the sound, like a rifle shot, and simultaneously I bucked my hips and felt the burn. For some reason in spite of it, my balls started to churn almost immediately, and the idea of being spanked with everyone watching and feeling the burn across my ass was in a way an intense turn on for reasons I couldn’t explain. Shit! What the fuck was wrong with me? As I felt that paddle I was aware that my hips were slamming forward, sliding my stiff cock into the towels beneath me, fucking them in a very real way while everyone watched.

My dick felt good, very good, and yet the burn in my ass was real, and the pain seemed to offset the pleasure. I was so damn aware of everyone watching, their eyes staring up my crack. I knew my much smaller nuts were on display too, swinging beneath my legs, and as I wiggled my rear I could feel my cock sliding within Tim’s juice and the feeling built rapidly. It wasn’t something I was really in control of, and my eyes were wide open as the feelings came with an increasing intensity.

"COUNT IT OUT KRASTER!"

"ONE SIR!" I almost shouted, my own voice sounding somewhat different than I expected it to.

He was rubbing that paddle across my rear again, and I jerked my hips and tried to move them out of the way, shoving my cock deeper into the towels in the process.

I heard the swish, and someone laughed, and then the paddle struck home for the second time and I bucked my hips and grunted. SHIT THAT HURT! Even so, my balls were churning even more now, and my cock felt good, really good, and I was oh-so-aware of Tim’s bit of spunk and how it seemed to be lubricating my dick. Oh FUCK!

"TWO SIR" I shouted out, my voice betraying me and cracking in a pubescent squeal.

CRACKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK....the paddle slammed into my rear a third time, and I wanted to die.

This blow was harder, and the sting was extremely intense and my eyes watered. My ass was cooking! Even so, the feeling in my cock was growing extremely fast, and my nuts were drawing up and the guys had to notice. I knew if something didn’t change I would soon ejaculate. I tried to raise up my hips then, higher even, perhaps to try and lift my cock out of the spunk that was already there. I knew I had to change something, because if I kept rubbing my cock across the towels I’d shoot my wad for sure.

But lifting my ass didn’t work, and instead the coach took the opportunity and slammed that paddle hard a fourth time, right into my upraised ass, so hard that I grunted and slammed my hips forward from the blow. My cock drove deep into the towels then, and I tossed my head back that’s when I lost it all and the feeling in my nuts just exploded.

"COUNT IT OUT" he said....but I couldn’t. Not right then.

Instead, my dick started to spasm, and I grunted instead as the feelings overwhelmed me.

"I SAID COUNT IT OUT" he yelled.

"URG....UG......UG......UG......UG...oh...oh .....oh GODDDDDDDD" I yelled, tossing my head back as I ejaculated. I couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it, and as I tried to give the count instead I could only grunt, my eyes wide as my orgasm overwhelmed me. As everyone watched my orgasm racked my entire body. I was half aware that my hips were literally fucking the towels, but it just felt so good I just couldn’t stop it, and instead I just grunted and squirted, my wad flooding into the towels as I emptied my teenaged balls.

I think the coach figured it out about then, because he didn’t ask me to count after that, but instead he raised the paddle high and slammed it into my bobbing ass even while I was cumming, and he did it as hard as he could. I screamed then, the impact of the paddle forcing my cock even deeper into the towels I was squirting into. At the same time the burn was so damn intense then the tears welled up in my eyes, and after that they started to go down my cheeks and my lips parted. Still, my eyes were wide open, starting at the wall, and in spite of the fire burning across my ass my jism was pumping out of my teenage cock in ropes of cream, shot after shot after shot.

As it turned out, it was the biggest load of my life.

CRACKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!

For a sixth time the paddle slammed into by bottom, burning a red line clear across both cheeks and sending the message home to everyone in the room. I was beyond counting, incapable of it really. I don’t know how long after the last hit I laid on that stack of towels, but long enough that my jism stopped squirting and I slowly became aware again of my surroundings. Finally, I heard the coach say "OK Kraster, get yourself up and face the team. You had better get yourself together enough to give the team some kind of an apology, or I swear to God I’ll put you back over the towels for another six."

Oh FUCK!

I got up, and as I did I looked down where I had shot my load and there was this huge puddle of spunk. I mean huge! There was no way I could let anyone see it, and knowing what I had done and knowing everyone was going to know was so damn humiliating that it can’t be described. There was a lot of it, and there was no way it could be missed by anyone now. Shit! As I got off the towels the coach saw it, and then in an act of mercy he tossed the paddle down on the towels, covering up my wad and hiding it from view. I looked at him, and he was looking at me, and my face went red with shame.

"TURN AROUND, AND APOLOGIZE!" he said, and I did. I was so damn humiliated though, and as I babbled out an apology I was well aware that my dick was still hard and stiff, and looking the way a dick looks after its just shot a load. All I could do was hope nobody would figure it out. Of course to top it all off I had a cherry red ass. Everyone noticed that of course, everyone, and there was a lot of grins in that locker room as I stood there with my rapidly wilting boner and my bright red rear and told them how sorry I was! Oh yes, I apologized then, blubbering it out. The really strange part of it was that my voice sounded very funny to me, a little boy voice actually, and it was almost like my manhood had been lost with my wad. Shit! It was so fucking humiliating, but I knew right then I’d never bet again!