Coach Brandt might have been a star athlete, but if he was it was thirty years ago and his exploits have been long forgotten by everyone except himself. He is over fifty, weights almost 350 and hadn't done any serious exercise in twenty years. He wears the same sweat suit to school every day and washes it at the end of evry month whether it needs it or not. He always has the stub of a cigar in his mouth, his battered Texas A&M baseball cap on his graying head, and a shrill whistle on a plastic cord around his neck. He is more of a stereotype that a coach. He's more than willing to take credits for wins and to place blame for defeats. His neck has long since disappeared infolds of fat. The only thing that remains strong is his voice. He can be heard at 400 yards. Ray figured that Coach Brandt was probably okay and in shape when he coached his father some twenty two years ago, but when Ray asked his dad, the only response was a laugh. Coach Brandt was a joke and a jerk even then. the trouble was that in a small school like Lincoln in a small town like Dalton, you either played for Coach Brandt or you didn't play. It didn't matter if it was football, basketball or baseball--it was still Coach Brandt.
Ray was a senior and had been putting up with Coach Brandt's bullying and crap for three and a half years. It was the spring and the team was in the middle of a mediocre season. Someone had to take the blame for the uninspiring record, and Ray was the captain. Lincoln had jusdt lost a close one that went eleven innings to arch rivals Valley Union, and the flack from the Dalton armchair coaches was pretty intense. When coach Brandt called Ray into his office after practice the following day, Ray knew it wasn't going to be for some helpful feedback and pointers. Sure enough, as soon as the door closed, Coach Brandt was all over Ray about his sloppy handling of first base and his inability to inspire the team. Ray had heard it before. He just nodded and grunted at the appropriate times just as he had done many times before. This time however, the coach didn't start to wind down. This time the veins in what was left pf his neck just stood out more and more and turned brighter red purple while sweat formed and trickled down his face. Finally with effort coach pried himself off his chair and grabbed Ray and told him that this time he was done talking. Ray was to grab the coat hooks on the back of the door with each both hands and spread his legs. Ray did. Brandt took out a paddle Ray had heard of but never seen. Brandt ordered Ray to bend over and brace himself and startime smacking the athlete hard on his butt. Ray was in shock. This was too _d_a_m_n_ed much. He'd but up with a lot of Brandt's bull_s_h_i_t_, but if that asshole thought...suddenly Ray felt the coach undoing reaching around and unbuckling his belt---what the _f_u_c_k_? Yes Ray felt his pants fall to the ground and ever harder whacks landing on the seat of his briefs. Then there was a pause and then Ray felt his briefs being pulled down. Ray had a long fuse, but this was way beyond the limit. Ray turned around and with his powerful hands grabbed Brandt's hands which were both gripped firmly on the paddle. With one jerk of his powerful hands and arms Ray rested the paddle away from Brandt. The coach just stared open mouthed at his star athlete, unable to respond to this totally unexpected turn of events. Ray used elementary wrestling holds to pin Brandt's upperbody to his desk. Ray yanked Brandt's sagging sweat pants off in one pull. Brandt was beginning to regain his senses and started to scream obscenities and threats at Ray. Ray just smacked the coach hars across the back of the head, and the screams died quietly in his throat. Ray yanked Brandt's dirty boxers down and got into his powerful batting stance and started whacking the quivering mass of fat cheeks with every thing he had in him.
This is for what you did to Kent Stevens when you gave bad signals during the Rose Hill game WHACK. This is for your humiliation of Jerry all football season. This is for embarrassing Kyle in front of his father, this is for Red, this is for calling me a creampuff all freshman year, this is for making Chas take the blame for your stupid mistakes--on and on it went, Whack, Whack, Whack. Coach Brandt's ass went from milky white to bright red with purple lines and spots. Gradually Ray's fury was coming under control. The Coach was whimpering, pleading, sobbing like a baby. The tough man was slobbering!! Ray stopped. "You gonna treat us--and I mean all of us decently?"
Coach Brandt wiped his nose and eyes with the sleave of his sweatshirt. He turned slowly and looked at Ray--Ray waited. "YOUR ass IS GRass--YOUR EXPELLED--YOU'LL NEVER GRADUATE--YOU _f_u_c_k_ING..."
That did it. Ray grabbed Brandt and forced him around and back into his former position. Brandt's only response was the sound of the wind being forced out of his inflated chest. There it was, Brandt's reddened whippes ass sticking up. Ray looked down at his own quivering manhood jutting rock hard straight up from all the emotion, adreanolin and passion Brandt's years of viscious abuse had aroused. Ray grabbed a condom from the safe _s_e_x_ material on the wall, slipped it on and with no warning repleased his vice grip of Brandts arm and rammed his tool deep into the fat man's hole. Again and again he rammed it home, pounding the mass of flab from one angle and then another, over and over, driving Brants's exposed _c_o_c_k_ into the blotter pad on his desk. Sheer animal instinct took over. Never again would Brandt humiliate some poor kid who just wanted to play baseball, or basketball or football. Never again would the teams have to listen to inflated stories of long dead glories. Again and again these points were driven deep into Coach Brandt. Finally Ray felt an explosive release. His _c_o_c_k_ pumped and convulsed and relieved the tension and resentment. Ray's anger was sated. Gently but firmly Ray pulled Brandt to his feet and turned him around so the two men were at last facing each other. Ray noticed that Brandt's face was calm and drained. Ray alkso noticed that cum was dripping from the coaches gradually deflating penis. "You're going to treat all members of your teams and all the guys in your guy class decently?" Brandt nodded his assent. "You're gonna start paying attention of what's going on in the game being played now and not replaying some game thirty-five years done?" Brandt nodded. "Okay, coach, I think this was a useful session for both of us. See you tomorrow." Ray pulled up his briefs and pants, straightened his hair and quietly walked out the door.