Adam and the Coach

 

“Adam really has the potential to up his game if he puts his mind to it…”

Coach Peters was talking to Adam’s parents, Ruth and Johnny Barrow. She was sat facing the parents who were sitting next to each other on the sofa opposite her. Adam had been sent upstairs to finish his homework in his bedroom.

“As you know of course, Adam has just turned sixteen and that means he’s officially entitled to become a member of the Alpha Squad,” Coach informed the boy’s parents, “And I would like to move him up into the Squad because I really believe Adam has the potential to become a leading member of the team… but I need to be absolutely sure of his total commitment before I promote him.” 

“I’m not sure what you mean, Coach,” Ruth interrupted, “Adam’s always enjoyed his training sessions at the club… Johnny agrees with me, don’t you, Johnny?” Ruth didn’t wait for her husband’s response before she carried on, “But what can Adam do to improve? You’ve always told us how pleased you are with his performance... ”

Coach smiled: “Yes… perhaps I haven’t made myself clear. You see it’s not just a question of commitment, it’s also a question of the boy’s ability to focus on performance to the exclusion of all other distractions, Mrs Barrow… and, let’s be honest, boys of Adam’s age are easily distracted…”

“Distracted? In what way distracted?” Ruth asked. She was puzzled and didn’t want to see her son penalised and held back from the prestige of joining Coach’s Alpha Squad after all she’d done to help and encourage Adam. “What can we do to help?”

Coach sat back. This was a delicate moment, but she was adept at dealing with parents like Ruth and Johnny Barrow. It needed a certain amount of tact, but Coach Peters was pretty sure that Mr Barrow already understood what was meant by Adam being ‘distracted’ even though he hadn’t thus far been allowed by his wife to get a word in edgeways. It didn’t take a genius to work out who wore the trousers in this particular house.

Coach Peters cleared her throat and started to explain that when boys reach a certain age…

“... and puberty kicks in, there are changes which can affect their athletic performance. Some of these changes are good and some lead on to behaviour that is not so good… counterproductive behaviour you might say.”

Johnny shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. He was now certain where this was going and it was bound to be hugely embarrassing. Ruth, on the other hand was listening intently to every word Coach Peters was saying.

“Just say the word and we’ll do everything we can to help Adam… no matter what,” Ruth assured Coach Peters, “Isn’t that so Johnny?” There was a split second pause during which time Johnny tried to say something, but he wasn’t nearly quick enough and his wife answered for him. “There, Johnny agrees with me…” she said taking her husband’s tardy response as support for her stance and finally added, “What can we do to help? Adam so enjoys his training sessions at the club. I’d hate to think of anything that might spoil his enjoyment and hold him back…”

Coach Peters paused to gather her thoughts once more: “Let me explain… Adam was what we call a ‘late bloomer’,” she continued, “He didn’t show all the usual external signs of puberty until he’d just turned fifteen… a year ago, in fact… Adam didn’t have any pubic hair at all before then… indeed, he has very little of it now, as I’m sure you’ve noticed...”

Ruth interrupted: “Johnny might have noticed, but I haven’t seen Adam in the nude since he was thirteen.” She turned to her husband, “Why didn’t you tell me our son was one of these late bloomers?” she didn’t wait for an answer from her husband, whose face was beginning to turn red and who she seemed to be blaming for their son’s condition, before turning back to face Coach Peters and asking her whether Adam should be seen by a specialist.

“Oh, there’s nothing to be concerned about, Mrs Barrow, really there isn’t… All the boys at the club have regular physical check-ups and if there had been anything wrong, then you’d have been the first to know. The check-ups are very thorough,” Coach Peters sought to reassure Adam’s mother, “It’s just that some boys develop later than others. I expect Adam inherited the trait from your husband…”

Johnny blushed a deeper red than ever as his wife questioned him: “Were you a late bloomer, Johnny? I know you’ve always been on the small size in that department…”

Coach Peters smiled as she interrupted: “The size of a boy’s penis, if that's what you are referring to, has really nothing to do with late puberty. If a boy is a late bloomer, the size… thickness and length, of his penis usually develops normally given time. If your husband is a bit, um… that’s probably nothing to do with his having been a late bloomer… some boys are just born that way and stay that way into adulthood.”

“What about Adam?” Ruth asked and added pointedly, “Since my husband doesn’t see fit to inform me of our son’s physical development.”

“I can assure you that Adam has a perfectly normal sized penis… indeed I might go so far as to say that Adam’s penis is slightly larger than average… compared with all the boys I see during training sessions, that is.” Coach Peters rocked her head from side to side, “Some boys have little tiddlers and some boys seem to have swallowed an elephant’s trunk for breakfast…” she said with a chuckle.

It was Ruth’s turn to blush. The thought of even a larger than average penis made her feel quite giddy with excitement… never mind a super-large elephant’s trunk! Sadly Johnny’s little penis was definitely in the ‘tiddler’ class, so it was a relief to know there was at least one respectable sized penis in the family.

Upstairs and oblivious to what was being talked about in the the front-room downstairs, Adam was up to his usual tricks. He’d finished his homework and was lying on his bed playing with the very penis that Coach Peters was discussing so openly with his mother. Adam decided to slow down his wank, to hold back and wait until later before he let himself cum. Although he’d been a late bloomer, Adam had quickly learnt from other boys how, by prolonging his wank, he could achieve a really awesome, explosive cum. For the time being though Adam wondered what Coach Peters was talking about with his parents and so he tucked his penis back into his underpants, zipped up his denims and waited.

“You were telling us about distractions that were holding Adam back,” Ruth prompted Coach Peters.

“Oh yes… thank you for reminding me… Yes, boys who go through puberty learn certain, er habits… usually from friends… pernicious habits that affect boys and distract them. Time wasting habits when they should be studying or training…”

“What sort of habits are you talking about?” Ruth asked innocently.

“Masturbation.” Coach Peters answered unequivocally, “There’s no point in beating around the bush, Mrs Barrow. I’m afraid boys will be boys… and once they learn how to masturbate it’s very difficult to get them to stop.”

There was silence in the room before Ruth replied: “Are you telling me that my son Adam has started masturbating?”

“I’m afraid Adam has been masturbating for some considerable time…”

There was another pause while this further revelation sunk in.

“Did you know about this?” Ruth said turning to her husband, “Did you know Adam was masturbating?”

Nobody even bothered to wait for an answer from Johnny whose face got even redder.

Coach Peters continued: “I would say that Adam was already masturbating before he started puberty… after all he would have been thirteen and have pubescent and post pubescent friends. Adam would have had plenty of opportunity to see other boys masturbating on sleepovers and so forth. Your son would have been known as a ‘dry-cummer’, a colloquial term used among boys… that is masturbating and achieving an orgasm, but unable to produce or ejaculate sperm.” Coach Peters paused to let this information sink in before adding, “But the problem becomes more significant as puberty kicks in. Masturbation can develop into a chronic habit which impacts on a boy's schoolwork and his athletic abilities.”

“Is there anything that can be done?” Ruth asked as Johnny squirmed on the sofa next to her. Johnny was pretty certain that Adam had been masturbating… he knew the signs. Yes, Johnny was sure his son masturbated just like any other healthy young boy. He too used to enjoy masturbating… that is up until the moment he met Ruth. His wife had made it quite clear that she did not approve of such activities, so for Adam’s sake he had kept his suspicions to himself. However, Johnny did wonder, if he was correct in his assumption, how Adam had managed to masturbate and at the same time keep this a secret… especially from his mother.

As Coach Peters spoke some more Johnny realised with horror the direction in which the conversation was headed and that inevitably his son’s life would have to change.

“Boys like Adam need help to redirect all the energy they use when they masturbate and funnel it into things they should be doing,” Coach Peters continued, “And to do this they need to stop masturbating…”

“So we tell Adam to stop doing it…” Ruth said flatly, “If it’s explained to him that it’s ruining his chances to join the Alpha Squad, I’m sure he’ll understand…”

“I’m afraid it’s not that easy,” Coach Peters said.

“What do you mean?” Ruth asked.

“You see in my experience boys like Adam become obsessed with masturbation… they depend on it for the thrill of indulging in something they know to be wrong. Each waking moment Adam will be thinking about the next opportunity to masturbate. I’ve seen it happen so many times in otherwise healthy boys who’ve had the potential to join the Alpha Squad…”

“... Boys like Adam who find themselves trapped in this cycle of self-abuse need our help. The temptation to masturbate among pubescent and post-pubescent boys like Adam is overwhelming.”

Coach Peters paused to allow her words to sink in. She knew Johnny understood what she was saying was true of teenage boys the world over, but what would Adam’s mother Ruth think, being told her son was addicted to masturbation?

Ruth thought for a moment. The subject was distasteful, but it had to be faced. Coach Peters clearly knew what she was talking about though. She had been running the club for a number of years and everyone Ruth knew had nothing but the highest praise for the way Coach Peters got the very best performances out of the boys. Ruth trusted Coach Peters and considered it an honour that she took such an interest in her son.

“Please continue,” she said.

“As I said the temptation for boys like Adam to masturbate is immense. Even before he entered puberty Adam will have become subject to spontaneous erections in which the penis becomes stiff and fully erect for no apparent reason. It’s a condition I see every day during training sessions… Boys think I don’t notice, but it’s hard to conceal a fully erect penis wearing regulation P.E. shorts… even more so in the changing-room and when fully nude under the communal showers. Boys will often show off when they are sporting an erection among other boys. They think it is ‘smart’ to take hold of their penis and to masturbate for a lark. They think it’s harmless fun when they take hold of another’s boy’s penis and to urge him to masturbate. This is how Adam will have learnt how to masturbate… by watching other, older boys and by being encouraged by them to play with his own penis… It won’t have taken long before Adam was able to practice full masturbation...”

Ruth Barrow interrupted Coach Peters. She had heard enough to know what Adam needed: “But what can we do to stop Adam from masturbating?” There was an urgency in her voice that Coach Peters recognised.

“There is something we can do that will prevent Adam from being able to masturbate. However, I will need the agreement of both you, Mrs Barrow and you, Mr Barrow if you decide that what I propose is the course of action we need to take…”

Ruth Barrow was all ears.

“I propose that we place Adam in chastity,” Coach Peters began, “We do this by locking his penis in a small device called a chastity cage. It’s really very straightforward and once the cage is secured in place Adam will be unable to masturbate. All boys in the Alpha Squad have worn chastity cages at some point in order to control their masturbation habit and indeed many boys choose to continue wearing their chastity cage even after the need to do so has passed…”

“What does this ‘device’ look like?” Ruth asked. Her husband meanwhile, was appalled at the thought that his son would be unable to pleasure himself in the same way that he had done at Adam’s age.

Coach Peters took a chastity cage out of the small bag she had brought with her.

“Here it is. This ring will fit snugly over Adam’s penis and scrotum… do you see? Then we simply slip Adam’s penis into the cage and this little lock clips shut and holds everything in place. That’s all there is to it, Mrs Barrow. Once they’ve had a chastity cage put on them and they’ve got used to wearing it, most boys forget they’ve even got one on.”

Johnny Barrow wondered how any boy could possibly not know he was wearing a chastity cage. It looked a frightful thing to have to put on a boy, but he kept quiet. He knew that if his wife decided that Adam must be put into chastity, then Adam would be put into chastity no matter what he said.

“That looks ideal,” Ruth said enthusiastically.

“It is… I can assure you it’s what Adam needs,” Coach Peters said, “Believe me, it will focus Adam’s mind on the things that matter. There’s just a bit of paperwork for you to sign and we can get Adam fixed up with his new chastity device straightaway.”

Although he knew he was on a hiding to nothing, Johnny realised he had to say something: “What? Now? Here? Today?”

Ruth turned to face her husband: “And why not? You heard what Coach Peters said. Boys of Adam’s age need all the help they can get if they are to be spared this terrible urge to play with themselves all the time…”

“I’m sorry, Ruth… it’s just that I didn’t want us to rush into a decision like this without giving it some thought and… er, discussing it...” Johnny tried his best.

Ruth sighed. This was typical of Johnny. He would prevaricate over the most trivial things. Now, when something as important as their son’s future was at stake, he was trying to find excuses to not to grasp the nettle and do what needed to be done.

“What else is there to discuss?” Ruth said firmly, “Coach Peters has spent a great deal of her valuable time explaining the situation. She is experienced in these matters, Johnny, which you are not…”

Johnny mumbled something about speaking to Adam and that maybe he wouldn’t need to be put into a chastity cage if he promised not to masturbate.

Coach Peters smiled: “It’s my experience that wouldn’t work. Adam would promise to behave, but the next thing you know… well, as I said before, ‘boys will be boys’.”

“There,” said Ruth finally, “There’s nothing more to be said. It’s been decided that Adam needs to be put into chastity and that’s all there is to it.”

“But I…” Johnny made one last attempt to spare his son.

“You want Adam to join the Alpha Squad, don’t you?” Coach Peters asked, “You should be proud of Adam… he’s got the makings of a top class athlete, but like all boys of his age he needs to focus on what needs to be done and the only way to do that is to stop him from expending all his energy masturbating.”

Johnny sighed: “I understand…” He would have added, ‘Okay, you win… I give up’, but he knew he’d be in even more trouble with his wife had he dared to do so.

Coach Peters reached into her grip again and pulled out the paperwork she’d prepared earlier as she’d anticipated getting Adam’s parents’ agreement to put their son into chastity.

“If you would both sign Adam’s ‘Chastity Pledge’. As he is still a minor and unable to sign for himself, you are signing on his behalf as his guardians… his moral guardians I should say. It states that Adam is voluntarily entering chastity and is freely wearing a chastity cage in order to fulfil the terms of his Pledge. ”

Coach Peters handed the paperwork to Mrs Barrow who signed the form straightaway. She handed it to her husband who glanced at the contents, hesitated, then countersigned the document. He handed it back to Coach Peters.

“Good… Adam is now technically in chastity,” she said, “All that remains is to secure his penis in the chastity cage... “

“Shall I call for him to come downstairs?” Ruth Barrow asked.

“Yes… and if you wouldn’t mind asking him to leave his clothes upstairs… It’s better if he is fully nude so that you can both see how the device is fitted.”

Without a second thought Ruth got up and went to the bottom of the stairs and called up to her son, “Adam! Adam! I want you to take off all your clothes and come down here right away…”

Adam shot out of his room. He wasn’t sure of what his mum just said… No clothes! Surely that couldn’t be right?

Ruth repeated her order… louder and with more than a hint of menace.

“But, mum… I’ll be totally nude… I can’t come down in the nude…”

“There’s only Coach Peters here and she sees you nude every time you go to the club…”

“Yes, but…”

“No more arguments… this is very important. Now do as I say…”

“But, mum…”

 “Don’t try my patience, Adam. Your father will come up and help you get undressed… Johnny!”

Reluctantly Johnny did as he was told and joined his son in Adam’s bedroom. Adam was sat on his bed completely bewildered.

“Come on Adam… better do what mum says,” Johnny said trying to sound as if if was no big deal, “There’s only her and Coach Peters downstairs…”

“But, dad… why nude?” Adam asked looking up, his eyes wide in uncomprehending disbelief.

“It’s… it’s just something to, er…” Johnny couldn’t bring himself to explain why his son should take all his clothes off, “It’s Coach’s idea and, er your mum and I agree… it’s to help you…”

“Help me… how?” Adam asked, still unable to understand why that meant he had to be nude.

“It’s about you stepping up to the Alpha Squad… you want to step up to the Alpha Squad don’t you Adam? You’ve always talked about wanting to be selected, haven’t you?” Johnny tried his best to sound enthusiastic, but he felt like a louse.

“Yes, dad… more than anything…”

“Well, this will help… that’s all I can say… Coach Peters will explain everything once you’re downstairs,” Johnny realised they were taking too long, “Look Adam, you need to get a move on… you know what mum’s like… come on, get those clothes off and come downstairs… no one’s going to be bothered about seeing you in the nude… It’s really for your own good, Adam.” Then Johnny uttered the word that made him feel even more of a louse than ever: “... honestly…”

Ruth called up again and threatened to come upstairs herself if Adam wasn’t undressed and downstairs in the next couple of minutes.

Adam got the message and started to take his clothes off. Johnny turned away and walked out onto the landing. If anything he was more embarrassed than his son.

“Okay, dad… I’m ready,” Adam, having stripped and flung his clothes onto his bed, called out from his bedroom as he clutched his hands between his legs.

Johnny led the way downstairs with Adam, now totally nude, following a few steps behind his father. They entered the front room. Coach Peters twisted round to watch their entrance. 

She smiled: “No need to be so modest, Adam… you know the club rule, ‘no covering up’… now put your hands at your sides like a good boy. There’s nothing to be shy about. We’re all grown-ups here.”

Adam felt as if a super-strong magnet was forcing his hands to clamp themselves to his crotch, so it took a huge effort to pull them away from between his legs. His face was burning as he slowly uncovered himself in front of everyone.

Coach was right, Adam’s penis was slightly larger than average for a boy his age. His balls too, were plump and well-developed, but there was a noticeable deficiency of pubic hair, just a small tuft at the base of Adam’s penis and none at all on his scrotum.

“What on earth took you so long?” Ruth asked, “Coach Peters hasn’t got all day you know.”

Adam hung his head unable to look anyone in the eye: “Sorry, mum,” was all he managed to say.

Coach Peters decided to take the lead: “I expect you’re wondering why I’m here, Adam…”

Actually, that wasn’t at the top of the list of questions Adam wanted to ask. What he really wanted to know was why he was standing in the middle of the front-room completely nude. Not only was he nude in  front of his parents and Coach Peters, but Adam also saw that no one had seen fit to close the curtains. Anyone passing down their road would be able to see nude Adam quite clearly.

“... well your parents and I have had a little talk… about you, Adam,” Coach Peters continued, “We all know that you’re a great team player… your report card shows that and I think, now that you’re sixteen, that it’s time for you to join the Alpha Squad…”

Adam smiled. What boy wouldn’t on being told how good he was? A sense of pride filled his chest, but he still didn’t understand why he’d had to take all his clothes off.

“Of course being a member of the Alpha Squad means total commitment, Adam. All your energy has to be focused on your performance… you understand that, don’t you, Adam?”

“Sure, Coach… sure...” Adam said, eager to agree and even more eager to put his clothes back on.

“Are you willing to do whatever it takes? To go that extra mile?” Coach Peters asked.

Adam hesitated. He’d heard rumours… rumours about boys in the Alpha Squad. Some of those boys, the rumour went, had been fitted with a sort of device. Adam wasn’t sure what the device was, but the consensus among his friends was that it was fitted to a boy’s penis. The Alpha Squad trained separately, so Adam had never seen them in the changing-room, let alone the communal showers, to have the rumours confirmed.

“Coach Peters asked you a question,” Adam’s mother prompted him.

Adam’s eyes were wide as he looked at Coach Peters to answer her question.

“I, er… I guess so…” he replied nervously.

 “I thought so,” Coach Peters said, “You’re a good boy, Adam and I know you’ll do well in the Alpha Squad. I know you’ll put everything into your performance…”

Adam was beginning to think he was going to get promoted to the Alpha Squad and that the rumours he’d heard about what might happen were just that… rumours without foundation.

“I will, Coach… honest.”

“... I can’t remember the last time we had a boy like you in training,” Coach Peters continued, “You’re a natural for promotion, Adam. It was only your age holding you back. But you’re sixteen now and fully qualified under club rules to step up to the Alpha Squad…” Coach Peters paused. Adam blushed enough to light up the room. “I bet you’re excited, Adam.”

“Gosh, I sure am, Coach…”

To be promoted to the Alpha Squad was a dream come true for a boy like Adam. To have Coach Peter’s praise heaped upon him was indeed intoxicating. He would agree with anything Coach said now he’d been told he was a ‘natural’.

“The thing is, Adam, we have to be sure of your commitment. Your parents need to know you will focus all your energy on your training sessions with the Alpha Squad, because I need their consent before we can promote you… Do you understand, Adam?”

“I will, Coach… I will… one hundred and ten percent.” There was a desperation creeping into Adam’s voice. All other thoughts had been put to one side. He wanted so much to be part of the Alpha Squad.

“It’s not me you have to convince, Adam,” Coach Peters said calmly, “It’s your mum and dad. They’re the ones you need to persuade that you’ll do anything… do whatever it takes, to be in the Alpha Squad…”

Adam turned to face Ruth and Johnny, his parents.

“Pleeeease can I join the Alpha Squad? I’ll work hard at it… honest, I will…”

But Adam could see in their faces that something was wrong. He was certain his dad knew something when he was upstairs. His mum’s face bore an expression that Adam knew only too well. There was something badly wrong and it meant he was in trouble.

“Adam Joshua Barrow,” Ruth said and Adam knew straight away he was in deep, deep trouble as his mother only ever called him by his full name when this was the case. “Coach Peters has told your father and I something that I didn’t think I’d ever hear said about my son…”

Adam felt a great weight descending. Everything he’d done in his life that could possibly be wrong filtered through his brain as he tried to prepare himself for what was coming.

“... something that’s going to prevent you from giving your best,” Adam’s mother continued, “And until that’s sorted out your father and I have decided that you’re not ready for the Alpha Squad…”

Adam was very nearly in tears when he heard these words spoken. Johnny squirmed in his seat. He’d not been consulted. He’d not said anything about Adam being denied his place in the Alpha Squad. But he knew enough to keep his mouth shut.

“But… but, mum… please… please… why can’t I join the Alpha Squad?” Adam pleaded as the first big teardrops rolled down his smooth, unblemished face. “Please… What have I done wrong? Coach Peters wants me to join the Alpha Squad… why can’t I? Please, mum… please let me…”

“To think that a son of mine..." Ruth hesitated and turned to her husband, “Johnny, you tell him, I can't bear to…”

Johnny made a noise that sounded like he was clearing his throat… half cough and half hurumpt. He squirmed some more and eventually said a few words.

“It’s… Well, er… your mother and I, er… we want you you be happy and, er… well, Coach Peters has told us that you need to concentrate and to, er focus, when, er, if you get into the Alpha Squad…”

“But I will, dad… I will… honest…” Adam pleaded, still not understanding why there should be any doubt him being promoted. His teardrops fell from his chin and splashed onto his bare chest..

Johnny blushed more than ever at the sight of his son’s distress and stammered some more before he got the next few words out.

“Um… the thing is, er Adam… Coach, um Peters has, er told us something… something which, er puts a different light on, er things...” Johnny took a deep breath, “Coach Peters has told us that you’ve been… been masturbating, Adam…”

There was silence. Adam stood in the middle of the room as if pole-axed. He couldn’t believe what his dad had just said. That they knew what he’d been doing was a total shock. Shame and embarrassment rolled over Adam as waves in a stormy sea of emotion. He wanted to hide, or to run away… anything to avoid the awful embarrassment his was suffering… suffering standing nude in front of his parents and Coach Peters.

Ruth spoke: “Have you anything to say?”

Adam was struck dumb. He shook his head. It was no use trying to deny it. He masturbated at least three times a day… more, much more, if he was with friends for a sleepover (what the boys humorously called a wank-over party).

There was a silence as intense as it it was prolonged.

Coach Peters waited a few moments before speaking and suggesting a solution.

“Look, Adam, boys of your age think it’s really cool to masturbate. Boys carry on masturbating even though they know it affects their performance negatively. They think I don’t know what they’re doing. They think they can get away it and carry on masturbating. But these boys who carry on masturbating won’t ever be asked to join the Alpha Squad.” Coach Peters paused before continuing. She looked Adam straight in the eye: “You’ve got what it takes, Adam. I’ve trained lots of boys and I can see when a boy has got the talent needed to join the Alpha Squad and you’ve got what it takes. But boys in the Alpha Squad have to give their total, unquestioning commitment to the Team. Training sessions are tough and unless you can give that commitment one hundred and ten percent, you are no use to the Team. Now, my question to you, Adam, is are you willing to go that extra mile… give all of that one hundred and ten percent? Because the only way I can be sure you’re giving me that total commitment is if you give me a solemn pledge that you will stop masturbating.”

Adam was stunned. The thought that he would have to give up masturbating in order to join the Alpha Squad never entered his head… it was just too much to take in. Coach Peters saw Adam’s reaction. She’d seen how distressed boys were when they were told they must stop masturbating. It was a perfectly natural reaction for boys used to indulging in self-abuse.

“I know it won’t be easy for you to stop masturbating, Adam,” Coach Peters continued, “I’ve explained this to your parents and they have given their permission for you to wear a chastity cage… it’s a device to help you get over your compulsion to masturbate. It’s really no big deal, Adam. You’ll find that nearly all the boys in the Alpha Squad wear chastity devices all the time to help control their urges to masturbate. They’ll tell you they don’t even notice they’re wearing them after a while…”

Adam was barely listening as Coach Peters continued to explain in her most reasonable voice how easily the device would be fitted over his penis and secured with a tiny padlock to prevent its unauthorised removal. Adam brushed away another tear as it welled up and rolled down his cheek. He tried ever so hard to take in Coach Peter’s words.

“Will… will I have to wear it all the time, Coach?” Adam asked.

“Let’s see… the next Alpha Squad training session is in two weeks time, so we’ll need to put you into your chastity device today if you’re to feel the benefit… come over here… a bit closer, Adam and we’ll soon have you ready to join the Alpha Squad.”

Coach turned to look at Adam’s parents: “The boys just call it ‘the cage’... Adam will soon get used to wearing it and I’m sure you’ll notice an improvement in his behaviour.”

It only took Coach a couple of minutes before she had Adam locked securely in his chastity cage. She kept one key and gave a duplicate to Ruth Barrow, telling her to make sure she put it in a safe place.

Adam looked down at his cage. It looked pretty secure. And then he cursed himself for not finishing his wank when he had the chance.

“Does this mean I’m in the squad?” he asked.

The Smartest Schoolboy - Part 3

 

There had been ripples of polite applause as the variously dressed contestants had each made their way out onto the stage. Julian, by then a bundle of nerves, had stood waiting in the wings to be called to face the judges dressed in nothing but his tiny speedo-style swimming trunks that he had last worn when he had been selected for his school’s swimming team three years before. The little trunks now scarcely fitted and it had been struggle for him to pull them up. And when he had pulled the trunks right up, to Julian’s horror he found that his bottom cheeks were mostly bare since in order to cover his genitals (freshly shorn of pubic hair) it was necessary for him to pull as much of the material forward as  he could thereby squeezing the back of the trunks between his bottom cheeks. Even then the absurdly small trunks could not be made to cover what was now clearly a bald pubis. Julian, glancing down at the humiliating swimwear, could actually see the base of his hairless penis pressing against the waistband of the trunks.

“Not nervous are you?” a voice behind Julian spoke. It was one of the assistants helping out during the competition to ensure its smooth running. She made no mention of Julian’s extremely brief costume, but merely told him not to be worried about facing the judging panel. “Just remember to stand straight and speak up… they won’t bite, you know,” she added in an effort to comfort the obviously tense boy in front of her.

Julian turned his head to look at the young assistant who smiled her encouragement.

“I’ll do my best,” he said, while wondering if this was what it felt for those about to be ordered to go “over the top” during a “big push” observed by a Sopwith Camel flying far above the battlefield. Well, not quite. Julian was enough of a realist to know that he was at least guaranteed to return from the stage alive. He stepped out from the wings and peered around the curtain at the expectant audience.

The ripples of applause that greeted the announcement of Julian’s turn on the stage died away quickly to be replaced by a stunned silence as he stepped forward nervously on his bare feet straight into the spotlight. No one in the audience, with the exception of Julian’s mother along with her friends and their families, had expected to see a boy dressed in such a low-cut and very brief pair of swimming trunks.

Julian, now more anxious than ever, walked across the apron to where the judges sat at a table to the side of the stage. From the audience he heard the sound of one person enthusiastically clapping and he didn’t need to be told that it was his mother. Flushed with embarrassment Julian heard more people begin applauding. Gradually more people joined in, so that by the time Julian arrived in front of the judges the entire audience was applauding him.

Although it was well intended the effect was to make Julian even more self-conscious than ever and if he could have blushed any more he most certainly would have done.

Miss Prism, the senior judge and chairwoman of the Smartest Schoolboy Awards committee opened the batting for the judges by reminding Julian to speak up and to speak clearly. He was asked to confirm his name and age:

“Julian Raft… and I’m sixteen, Miss Prism…”

Upon hearing how old Julian was, one or two gasps of astonished disbelief could be heard from the auditorium. Under the glare of the spotlight everyone present could see how smooth and unblemished Julian’s body was. Not a blemish, not a single pimple, not a sign of any body hair could be seen and as for those cute little swim-trunks… why, they were so tiny it was easy to conclude that Julian hadn’t even started to sprout any pubic hair! Surely he couldn’t be as old as sixteen?

“Perhaps you could tell the judges something about yourself… what your hobbies are…” Miss Prism asked Julian. She seemed quite oblivious to the fact that standing in front of her and her fellow judges was an almost naked teenage boy who was blushing to the roots of his severely short schoolboy haircut.

“I… er, I like sports and… er, I used to swim for my school,” Julian began before realising he was drawing even more attention to his tiny swimming trunks. But it was too late. One of the other judges piped up:

“Are these your school’s team trunks you’re wearing for us today?” they asked.

Julian nodded and just about managed to confirm that they were.

“I must say they’re very brief,” the judge continued.

“I, um… I, er, haven’t swum on the school team for a couple of years…” Julian explained, “But mum thought… er, I had to… um… er, that’s why… um…”

Miss Prism took charge of proceedings again. She could see that Julian was deeply embarrassed to be standing on stage wearing a quite frankly ridiculously, nay indecently small pair of boy’s swimming trunks. Nevertheless, she concluded, Julian must have enjoyed his time on his school’s swimming team otherwise what other reason could there have been for him to choose to proudly wear these ludicrously ‘petite’ trunks?

“I expect you won lots of medals when you swam for your school team and that’s why you chose to wear your team trunks,” Miss Prism said diplomatically, “Now, why don’t you tell us something about your hobbies.”

On safer ground Julian told the judges about how much he enjoyed building models and how he liked collecting things such as stamps and postcards.

Sitting in the audience Julian’s mother had been thrilled by the enthusiastic applause generated as Julian crossed the stage to face the judges. She distinctly heard one woman say how cute Julian looked as he stood on view, while another cooed, “ahh… isn’t he sweet?” and yet another said she couldn’t believe he was sixteen, “he looks so much younger… my boy’s thirteen and I don’t think I could persuade him to put on those tiny trunks at the seaside, never mind getting up onto a stage in front of everyone like that… my boy insists on wearing those awful baggy swim-shorts.”

In a line along the rear of the stage the other contestants stood and watched as Julian went through his ordeal in front of the judges. All of the boys were dressed far more modestly in their various outfits. Only two of them showed any bare leg at all and these were rugby players in their rugby kit who, the eagle eyed might have spotted, spent a fair bit of time whispering to each other and chortling when they looked in Julian’s direction.

Julian breathed a sigh of relief when the questions were over and he was out of the spotlight. He joined the line-up of more sensibly dressed boys for an official photograph to be taken of the Smartest Schoolboy entrants at this stage of the competition. As the photographer set up the equipment the boys jostled for position and Julian found himself standing between the two rugby players. They might have been about a year younger than Julian, but it was clear from their stocky physiques why they had been chosen to play rugby.

After a few moments the boys were lined up across the stage, each boy dressed in such a way to represent his ‘passion’ as the competition rules phrased the requirement for this part of the contest. There were boys in their cricketing whites, boys dressed in their chorister’s outfits, one boy archer with his bow and arrows, a couple of gymnasts wearing singlets and long stirrup pants, three musicians holding their instruments, the two rugby players already mentioned and slap in the middle, squeezed between the rugby players, stood Julian dressed in nothing more than his his breathtakingly brief swimming trunks.

It might not have been quite so bad for Julian if all the other boys were wearing swimming trunks as he’d been led to believe. At least then he perhaps wouldn’t have stood out so much, but as it was the eyes of everyone in the audience were naturally drawn to the boy in the middle wearing hardly anything. Indeed from the back of the hall it was difficult to tell whether or not Julian was wearing anything at all!

However, Julian was soon in for a surprise as the photographer called on the boys to smile for the camera. The photographer fussed about making some last minute adjustments as the boys grinned with their eyes fixed on the camera lens.

The rugby boys’ teamwork was very nice. There was no signal between them, no glance of meaning, no gesture that Julian might have picked up on before his arms were pinned to his back and his tiny swimming trunks yanked unceremoniously straight down to his ankles. The photographer’s motorised camera recorded the event in superb full-colour clarity as the rest of the boys all cheered another boy’s misfortune. As the judges, stunned by the unexpected events, looked on, the audience roared with laughter no doubt thinking that Julian being stripped of his swimming trunks was all part of the show. Even his mother couldn’t hide a smile as she watched her son becoming the centre of attention… as if he wasn’t already. Mrs Atwell’s daughters, all three of them sat between their mother and Mrs Raft, couldn’t believe their eyes. Julian Raft, up there on the stage… nude! Maria, the eldest girl had thought to bring her camera, hoping she might get to take some photos of Julian, but never thinking she might have the opportunity to snap him in his birthday suit. Maria made the most of her opportunity and prayed that Mrs Grant at the chemist’s would develop and print her special photos.

On stage Julian struggled to free himself from the steel-hard grip of the rugby player who held his arms pinned together behind his back. Deafened by the audience laughter Julian twisted and kicked out, only to lose his tiny trunks which flew from his right foot and went skidding across the stage. Nothing was left to the imagination as Julian’s penis, now seen to be completely bald, bounced in all directions between his legs. Meanwhile the other rugby player retrieved Julian’s swimming trunks, held them aloft and displayed his prize by waving them about.

This unscheduled event lasted less than a minute before the commanding voice of Miss Prism was heard to boom above the laughing, cheering audience.

“That’s quite enough!! Boys!! Release Master Raft at once!” She turned to her fellow judges, “I expect this sort of roisterous behaviour is common among the rugby playing fraternity, but I cannot sanction it during the competition… BOYS!!” Miss Prism again turned her head to the rugby players who were still enjoying their ‘roisterous behaviour’, “Will you stop what you are doing… immediately!”

The boy holding Julian finally loosened his grip and Julian shook himself free. Although embarrassed beyond belief Julian was unsure about what he should do apart from squashing his hands as tightly as he could stand between his legs. He was given back his tiny swimming trunks by the second rugby player whose cheery, “No hard feelings, eh!” failed to impress Julian who merely scowled in response. There was nothing he could do with the trunks since to attempt to put them on again straight away on stage would be more embarrassing than ever, so he clutched them to his crotch and waited to be told what to do.

Miss Prism could be seen consulting with her fellow judges while it occurred to the photographer that the required ‘official’ photo hadn’t been taken along with all the unofficial photos.

Miss Prism spoke: “Boys,” she addressed the two rugby playing miscreants as she consulted the papers in front of her, “Max and Douglas isn’t it? I have consulted with my fellow judges and we have decided that however much you may have thought of your prank as a bit of fun, we cannot let it go without imposing sanctions on both of you. You have brought the Smartest Schoolboy competition into disrepute by your silly, childish behaviour…”

“... however, we understand that such high-spirited, some might say boorish behaviour is not considered unusual within the sporting milieu, an environment with which you boys are no doubt familiar, so the judges have decided to give you a choice of penalties. In a moment I will explain what these penalties are, but I want you to understand that whichever penalty you decide to accept, this same penalty must be accepted by both of you. Do you understand?”

The boys understood. Julian, still unsure of what to do with himself, continued to clutch his trunks tightly to his nether regions, although the focus of the attention among the audience had shifted to the two rugby boys which was a slight relief. Like everyone in the hall Julian was eager to find out what the penalties were going to be for the boys who had pulled down his swimming trunks.

“Good,” Miss Prism said adopting her curt, businesslike manor, “As I said you have a choice boys, either you are dismissed from the Smartest Schoolboy competition immediately and a report detailing your activities sent to your school, who will no doubt take appropriate action in the light of your behaviour… or you stay in the competition and accept the punishment which the judges have agreed you deserve. I feel it only fair to warn you this punishment will be of a corporal nature and it will be administered here and now…”

Before his partner in horseplay could say anything, Max spoke: “We want to stay in the competition and will accept whatever punishment… Doug, will you keep quiet…” he hissed at Douglas, who would at least wanted to be consulted before accepting punishment… corporal punishment at that. But Max had his own reasons for jumping in and telling Miss Prism which option they would take. The last thing Max wanted was for his school to be told what he and Doug had done. He had only entered the Smartest Schoolboy competition to get out of a jam… well it wasn’t so much as a jam as the threat of expulsion from school due to a fracas in the changing-room during an away match. It was only by the skin of his teeth that Max had managed to cling on to his place in his school’s rugby first XV. Reluctantly he’d agreed to enter the Smartest Schoolboy competition as a form of penance, to convince his school how truly sorry he was and how much he regretted his behaviour, so that last thing Max needed was for a report to to wing its way back to his school informing them of his lapse in conduct.

Douglas on the other hand had no such concerns and would rather have avoided summery punishment. But Max managed to have a hasty few words with Douglas to explain his  propensity for landing in the soup and his need to avoid word reaching his school about his and Douglas’ prank. So in the spirit of schoolboy loyalty Douglas acquiesced and agreed to accept punishment from the competition judges.

“Good, I’m pleased to hear that,” Miss Prism said, “It will save us a great deal of paperwork.” And having said this she turned to one of the competition assistants and said a few words out of earshot. The assistant, the same girl who had a few kind words for Julian before he went on stage, nodded her head and slipped out of view into the wings. She wasn’t long and returned with a thin crook-handled schoolboy cane, part of a display the organisers had erected in the lobby. The theme of the display was ‘Schoolboys through the Ages’ and as such had a variety of items associated with the education of boys over the years. The use of the cane was perhaps not as common as it used to be, but it was nevertheless still felt that it warranted a place in the display. There were in fact a number of punishment instruments including a range of tawses, a martinet, as well as a variety of canes.

Miss Prism asked the girl to place the cane on the desk in front of her before sending the assistant back once more to the display. This time when she returned Max and Douglas were startled to see she was carrying the martinet.

“Thank you, my dear,” Miss Prism said as she took the martinet and dangled it by her side, giving it a quick shake so the lashes all hung together freely.

There was quite a buzz in the audience at this unexpected turn of events, but the hall fell silent as Miss Prism rose from her chair to walk across and take centre stage.

“I believe we have our dear friends and neighbours in France to thank for this little instrument of correction,” she said as she once more shook the martinet. “I am told that it is extremely effective at seeking out those parts of a boy’s body that may have escaped punishment by other means.”

Douglas dug his elbow into Max’s side and hissed: “... look what you’ve let us in for…”

“... can’t be any worse than the cane…” Max whispered back feigning nonchalance.

“... I wouldn’t be too sure…” Douglas replied.

“So what the judges and I propose,” Miss Prism announced, “is that each boy in turn receives six strokes of the cane on his bare buttocks after which each boy,” Miss Prism paused and smiled good-naturedly, “then enjoys a continental treat to round off their reward for their uncouth behaviour.” She looked out into the auditorium and scanned the faces looking for any sign of dissent from her proposals. None was forthcoming. It appeared the audience was keen to see Max and Douglas taken down a peg or two.

“Julian!” Miss Prism said rather sharply, “I’m sure you would like to help prepare these two naughty boys to receive their just deserts. If you would be so kind as to lower and remove the rugby shorts from Max and Douglas, that would be most helpful and at the same time a fitting recompense for their behaviour toward yourself.”

It seemed a bit unfair to order Julian to relieve Max and Douglas of their rugby shorts, since he was still clutching his swimming trunks and was otherwise completely naked.

“Please, Miss Prism… might I put my swim trunks back on?” Julian asked.

“I suppose so, but do get a move on…”

Julian thanked Miss Prism, but he suddenly realised he was faced with a dilemma. If he turned his back to hide his front from the audience, they would be presented with his bare bottom - and of course the boys lined up at the back of the stage would get to see Julian struggling to pull up his trunks anyway.

Miss Prism saw Julian dithering: “Come along, do hurry up, Julian, if you want to put your swim suit back on… and there’s no need to be quite so modest about it…”

“Yes, Miss Prism…” 

Surprisingly Max offered to help and suggested that he and Douglas stood one in front and the other behind Julian while he pulled his trunks up. That way they would afford Julian some privacy. Miss Prism gave her consent and the two rugby boys positioned themselves in front and behind Julian.

Of course Julian - and Miss Prism for that matter - should have realised that Max and Douglas were up to no good. The minute Julian had pulled his tight little trunks up to his knees, the two boys simply stepped to one side leaving Julian, hobbled by his own trunks, facing the audience with his hairless boy-parts on display once more.

The audience roared with laughter as Julian stood frozen to the spot. The boys behind him giggled and blew a few wolf-whistles, while even Miss Prism was seen to smile indulgently at these further antics on stage.

“Oh, that’s got to be worth getting the cane for…” Max whispered to Douglas.

Douglas grinned: “Nice one, Max… God, he doesn’t know which way to turn…”

“... and those tiny little trunks are so tight…”

“... he can’t pull them up without making a complete fool of himself…”

Poor Julian. His tiny trunks were harder to pull up than ever. As he struggled under the spotlight he began to perspire which made matters worse as the little trunks stuck to the damp skin of his thighs. Julian fought to pull up his trunks, twisting this way and that and in the meantime putting on an entertaining display for everyone watching. The most obvious solution would have been for Julian to run into the wings, but when he tried, with the trunks only just past his knees, the best he could manage was a sort of duck-like waddle and this only very slowly. Julian had never been so humiliated in his life. He was, and he knew it, a laughing-stock. No one appeared to have any sympathy for his plight simply because everyone was having so much fun watching him struggle to pull up a pair of absurdly small boy’s swimming trunks.

As one lady was heard to say to the lady sitting next to her: “He should never have put those silly little things on in the first place!”

“I agree… it’s his own fault if he can’t get them back on again… really, they’re far too small for him.”

“Boys… they’re so vain. I bet he thought he looked like a real lady-killer wearing them…”

“At his age too!”

The ladies laughed.

There was a kerfuffle in the audience as one of the spectators moved along a row of seats in an attempt to get to the aisle. No one wanted to miss a thing and so the people she passed were none too pleased to be asked to move out of the way, if only for a brief second. Having extricated herself from the row, the woman marched down the aisle straight towards the stage. She climbed up the steps ignoring the raised voices from the judges table and strode across the stage to where Julian was still struggling with his swimming trunks. Julian registered movement in his peripheral vision and turned his head sideways.

“MUM!!”

This was worse than ever! Bad enough to be caught naked in public, but to have his mum come striding up out of nowhere like a mother hen and with that look in her eye that could mean only one thing… she was intent on helping... oh, the shame.

“Julian… whatever do you think you are doing? Here, let me see to it…”

Without another word spoken Julian’s mother bent down and brushed his hands out of the way. She took hold of the the little trunks and yanked on them with a force that would have done credit to a weightlifter’s ‘snatch’. It took three more hefty tugs before mum had restored Julian’s competition swimming trunks to their rightful, proper place. The audience cheered and Mrs Raft waved in acknowledgement.

Miss Prism walked over to thank Mrs Raft and spoke: “Sometimes what’s needed is a mother’s touch. I think that Julian might need a break after entertaining us with that performance. Perhaps you would be good enough to deal with these two boys and remove their rugby shorts…”

“With pleasure…” came the reply followed by a roar of approval from the audience.

Julian’s mother made short work of the rugby shorts of Max and Douglas and she placed them on the judges table. Only the boys’ bottoms were bared since they both wore jock-straps. As it turned out the jock-straps were both a blessing and a curse for Max and Douglas since on the one hand it preserved their modesty, but on the other it meant that the martinet could be used with full force and effect with the boys’ thighs spread wide as the genitals were, to a certain extent, protected by the jock-strap pouch.

Miss Prism, as it turned out, was experienced both in the use of the cane and the martinet. To administer the cane each boy was ordered to present himself in the classic schoolboy ‘touch-toes’ position with legs straight and bottom pushed out to receive each stroke.