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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: joey18.txt (M/m-teen, nc, huml)
Authors name: dale10 (maipenraikhap@msn.com)
Story title : Joey and the Coach - 18
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2004. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
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Joey and the Coach - 18 (M/Fm-teen, nc, huml, inc)
by dale10 (maipenraikhap@msn.com)
***
Sam Jordan's mishaps continue as he visits the
headmaster
***
Young Sam Jordan was not only abused and battered, but
confused. No one seemed to care about stopping the
sexual molestations happening at the school. Everywhere
he turned he encountered more perversion.
"Spread your legs Sam and let me see your cock and
balls..." The headmaster ordered a second time. Why...
why should Sam Jordan allow his headmaster to see his
private parts. What right did he have to look at Sam's
penis and scrotum?
Sam couldn't fight it though. He had already Been gang
fucked and he was emotionally a total wreck. He sat
there in the Chair in his shirt with his pants and
underpants down around his ankles and Spread his legs.
The Headmaster reached down and grabbed Tam's flaccid
dick. "Well this explains a lot young man. Your cock is
so underdeveloped, no wonder you are a faggot. You could
never fuck a girl with a pencil prick like that. No
wonder you make up stories about the older boys in the
school. You are jealous of their manhood. You are
jealous of their big dicks."
"Sir, that's not true. I'm as big as the other freshmen
boys... and..."
The Headmaster squeezed the boy's prick and balls until
he stiffened in the chair and held his breath.
"Oh so you have been looking at the dicks of the other
freshmen boys, huh? Like to hang around the locker room
do you so you can watch the boys walk out of the showers
with their big dicks swinging. Sam Jordan, you are a
fucking filthy pervert. And no doubt you seduced those
seniors. It's not difficult. Those boys walk around here
all day with swollen balls just needing a dump and no
girls to satisfy them. I feel sorry for them And along
comes a cock-hungry little faggot like you and you make
a play for them. No wonder they give in to sin."
"Sir, I swear to God it's not like that..."
The Headmaster pulled back his hand and slapped Sam hard
in the nut sack.
"Don't you dare use the Lord's name when we are talking
about perverted fuck matters. You filthy little dick
dump! Go on, make your dick hard for me. Show me what
you've got. Or doesn't it even get hard? It's really
more of a clit than a cock isn't it? You're a little
Clit Boy, aren't you? You heard me, pump that
prick...let me see it hard."
Crying heavily now, Sam began to yank at his flaccid
dick. He was so scared and so confused, it didn't want
to erect. The Headmaster derided him and made fun of
him. "Can't even get it hard, can you? What a fucking
Twat. Maybe we ought to make you do this in front of the
whole Freshman Class, show them how you can't even get a
boner. Or maybe you need something up your pussy to get
you hard. Is that it? Do you need some cuntal insertion
in order to get turned on?"
It was so fucking perverse. Teenage boy Sam Jordan sat
there in the Headmaster's office with his pants and
underpants around his ankles, legs spread, pumping his
teen dick, trying to get a hard on to prove to the
Headmaster that he was normal.
He tugged and yanked on his prick harder than he ever
had...it got a bit thicker. He chewed his lower lip and
squeezed his teary eyes shut and tried to think of girls
while he pulled on his fuckmeat. Maybe he was queer. He
thought of Brian Sheridan and for some fucking reason,
his dick started to get hard. Oh Jesus...he didn't want
to be queer. He didn't want to be a fucking faggot. His
ass hurt so badly from the fuckings he had endured and
more cum leaked out of his hole and puddled on the chair
seat beneath him.
"It's hard sir, it's hard..." he said, trying to end
this nightmare. He spread his legs to show his stiff
prick to the Headmaster.
"Oh wait, I'll get my magnifying glass so I can see it!"
The Headmaster laughed. "You think you can fuck a girl
with that? Any girl in this town would laugh you right
out of her bed. I didn't tell you to stop jerking. Beat
that meat boy, prove to me you're a man. I wanna see you
shoot a fuckload."
"OOOOHHHHHHHH!!" Sam groaned, pumping his hard prick and
crying and trying to protest that his dick wasn't that
small, but unable to get the words out. He knew Brian
and the guys all had much bigger pricks, but they were
seniors, and they really stretched his asshole with
their big fucking sausages and hurt his jaw with their
slabs of teen fuckmeat.
"Come on you fucking slut, beat that wiener. Show me you
can at least cum. Or are you too much of a wuss to make
any baby batter? PUMP PRICK BOY, PUMP PRICK! DO IT
NOW!!" Sam Jordan spread his legs wider and pumped prick
for his Headmaster.
Suddenly he jerked in the seat like an electric charge
was shooting through him. He groaned and grunted and
fuck splat shot from his pisshole and covered his
stomach...two, three, four spurts of dicksnot.
Sam's tits rose and fell as his chest heaved with the
exertion of a teen boy orgasm. His nipples grew to small
sensitive points. His tummy fluttered and the cum ran
down into his belly button and clotted in his cock hair.
His fat balls sagged and grew loose, resting on the
chair. His dick became rubbery and leaked after spooge.
He sat there totally defeated.
"You are a fucking Faggot Sam Jordan, and I have a good
mind to not only expel you, but to tell your family that
you seduced boys in the school. Now you get dressed and
get the fuck out of here. I'll keep these photos of the
Coach and check on the matter, but I am fairly certain
these are doctored pictures, perhaps created by your
perverted dirty fucked up cuntmind."
The Headmaster turned away. He would have loved to fuck
and torture the boy, but he knew he had to deal with the
Coach's problem first. If Brian Sheridan and the other
boys knew about the photos of Joey and the Coach,
something had to be done and quickly.
Joey, hardly able to move, his young body wracked with
pain, and his only pal Mike huddled in a corner near the
top of the third floor stairwell. "Now when the Coach
come jogging by, we run out and throw him over the
railing." Both boys wore black masks and black gloves.
They didn't want to leave fingerprints. They heard a
thumping on the stairs and then saw the head of the
coach, and then his body dressed in a skimpy pair of
running shorts. His hard lean body glistening with sweat
rippled with the dim hallway lights and seemed to
undulate and twist like the torso of an animal on the
hunt.
"Now!" Joey whispered as the Coach jogged passed the
boys. They rushed out and grabbed the unsuspecting man
and shoved him toward the banister, where he would fall
three floors to his death!
Continued in part 19...
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 26