As I walked into the front entrance of Winter Valley Junior High, I was personally greeted by Principal Van Buren. "Wilson, my boy. I heard all about your practice last night."
I almost shit in my pants. "Excuse me?"
"You couldn't forget what happened at your practice, could you?"
All I could see was poor Kimmy, the best shooter on our co-ed basketball team, being stripped naked and orally molested by my fellow coach, Dottie Madison, while the rest of the team stood around the pair and masturbated. And I just stood by, having set that whole scene up.
"What part?" I asked, still trying to figure out how to avoid being fired or keel hauled.
"When you set up that game of HORSE to test the players, of course. Vicky said she came within this much of beating the eventual winner." He held up his index finger and thumb about an inch apart. "She said it was about as long as a C hair, whatever that means. You know kids these days with their funky abbreviations for everything."
I could feel my heart rate drop by a hundred. "Oh, you know Vicky?" I had a good mental picture of the little red haired girl with the chipped front tooth.
"I should," said Van Buren. "Just about every inch of her. I used to change her diapers and give her baths. She's my one and only daughter."
I felt my heart rate go back up. I had made the players susceptible to my commands, but I never thought of any inadvertent slips around the dinner table. I had a rule to make, but I hoped it wasn't too late to save my skin.
"Vicky said she wanted to change places with the eventual winner so badly. I hope you have something planned for this practice just as rewarding."
"Working on it," I said.
"Remember, I want that trophy from the Tri-County Tournament by any means short of cheating or murder. And I'm thinking about dropping that last condition."
I stared at the man until he began to laugh. "Just kidding, Wilson. Just do a good job."
I swallowed hard as the man walked away, admonishing some seventh grader for not having his shirt tucked in correctly. I quickly walked to my classroom which doubles as my mad scientist lair.
While I was whipping up my special additive for the sports drink, Coach Madison, also known as Dottie, entered the room. "Hey Frankenstein. What's brewing?"
"More of my aphrodisiac / memory controller. Want to sample it?"
"If I said no, you'd just order me to do it anyway." She held her hand out to get her dose. "This tastes better than the last batch."
"I added a little coffee extract."
"Well, good. I guess I'll see you at 3:30 practice. To warn you, my tongue is still sore from yesterday's award ceremony. You might have to do the celebration presentation by yourself today."
I sighed. "The work of the evil mastermind is never done."
Dottie had barely departed when freckle-faced Bonnie walked into the room, toting a suitcase-sized box with a ribbon tied in a bow. "Happy birthday," she said as she placed it on the lab table.
"It's not my birthday," I said.
"Well, duh," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's the uniforms my mother adjusted last night."
"I wasn't expecting them so soon. Thank you, and thank her also for me."
The girl smiled at me. "You're welcome." She waited for a few moments before asking, "Coach Wilson, can I asked you a question?"
"You just did."
"I mean, well, do you have, like a girlfriend or something?"
"Or something?" I asked back. "I'm not sure how to interpret that. But as for a girlfriend, no, I don't."
"What about Miss Madison?"
I chuckled. "I don't really have a clue about her social life."
"No, I mean what about you and her?"
I thought for a moment. "To be honest, I haven't seen her in years. We've only had a few brief conversations, and those have been mostly about basketball. But when I was in seventh grade, I did have a huge crush on her."
Bonnie's eyes glistened. "Would you, like, do her?"
"Given the right moment, sure. Then again, I think I might as you called it, do anything that has a pussy."
"I… I have a pussy," she said softly. When she said that, I had a scary thought. I could almost hear the aphrodisiac from my concoction whispering adult advice in her ear.
"His name is Whiskers," she added as she tried to hide a smile.
We stood there, silently admiring the other for what felt like an hour, though it was probably about thirty seconds. I had no idea what she was thinking, but I envisioned a collar around the neck of my little pet.
The room door opened, and a couple students entered, breaking the mood. Fortunately for me, no one noticed the awkward encounter by my desk.
As class started, I was sure I could see all the way up her skirt. And she knew I could.
I walked into the gym right at 3:30, dragging my wagon with the sports drink barrel behind me. Inside I saw about half of the team still dressed in their normal clothes and shooting practice shots. Curtis noticed my arrival and raced over to take possession on the still-sealed box. Moments later, the team disappeared into the locker room to change.
Over the next few minutes, the rest of my team trickled in. "Afternoon, Coach," yelled silvery-haired Sandy with a huge smile just before she disappeared. Win or lose, I was enjoying this extracurricular assignment.
About two minutes later, the team began to emerge from the locker room with Coach Madison in tow. On one hand she had red-haired Vicky and the other straw-blonde Kimmy, the winner from the previous practice.
"You got friends, I see," I whispered to my partner in crime.
"Vicky wants to know how to get the same 'reward' while Kimmy wants to win again."
I threw my hands up in the air. I guess the answer is 'Practice, practice, practice.' Wouldn't you say?"
The girls giggled before running off to join in the pre-warmup free shoot. I let them have a bit of fun for ten minutes until I was sure everyone was changed into their uniforms. Then I blew my whistle and yelled, "Everyone in and get your daily drink."
While they downed the spiked liquid, I mentally divided them into two teams. I decided that not having preconceived notions about the players was a blessing.
"We are starting to become a family," I said. "Kind of like two parents with ten kids. In most families, there are rules everyone follows so that the family works well together. Same applies here. I am the keeper of these rules for our family. One rule I have is no one can be jealous. Everything is for the glory of the team, not for individual honors. We build each other up, support each other both on and off the court. Constructive criticism only. Understand?"
To a player, they nodded their heads.
"As coaches, Coach Madison and I have the team's interest in mind. If we order you to do something, just do it. Ignore any consequence of the order. We will deal with any fallout."
Turning to my coaching partner, I said, "For a warm-up, run them through a game of Simon Says for ten minutes. Anybody not following your commands, send for another dose."
"Gotcha," Dottie replied.
I decided for a first cut, I would go with the winners of the previous HORSE first round to form my first team.
At the end of the exercise, I called them together. "This game is Half Court Shoot. One squad at each end. First shooter takes the ball at the center circle, advances it by dribble to a spot inside the three point line, shoots and hopefully scores. The previous shooter waits to rebound for the next person. When she does, she outlets it to the last person in line who in turn outlets to the next shooter. Rebounder then joins the end of the line. Clean bounce passes. Any questions?"
Dottie was the only one to hold up her hand. "For how long?"
"Good question. Fifteen minutes using a single ball and then we take a break. For scoring, Coach Madison and I will count the number of times the squad turns over. You are responsible for your own score. You cannot cheat. That rule applies to everything you do on the court in practice or in the actual game. Count one point for a shot inside the paint, two from outside, zero if beyond the three point line. That's right. No extra long shots. But take your best scoring chance." I gestured for the squads to their ends and blew my whistle to start the clock.
I took the HORSE losers to evaluate where improvements could be made. In my limited experience, games are won and lost by the bench players. Finding the right combination of skills and keeping them on the court was a key to getting the trophy.
Little Emma with her honey blonde ponytail flying behind her showed off the best ball handling skills even though she was also the fastest. It helps to be low to the ground. With the shorts taken in, she no longer had to worry about them falling off.
Bonnie was our best midrange shooter, formwise. Her freckled face lit up on almost every shot. However, she glanced at me every chance she had. I hoped I wasn't a distraction.
At first, Rocky looked better closer to the basket. As the drill progressed, her confidence grew. For the passing portion of the drill, she showed quick hands and good reflexes.
My farmboy, Robby, had no shot outside of ten feet and not much inside five. But I already expected he would be better utilized on defense. There's only one ball to shoot, and we had others capable of doing that.
Then there was Melissa. She adjusted her black-framed glasses before she took a shot. And it didn't help often. She had trouble catching the ball, as though she was scared of it. And she displayed little instincts for the game.
She was just like me almost a decade before. She was going to be my special project.
I turned to Dottie as the alarm on my phone went off. Not surprisingly, her squad had three more turnovers of shooters than mine. While we sent the kids off to rehydrate and rest, we compared notes.
"Most points?" I asked.
"Vicky by two over Kimmy. Someone was very motivated compared to yesterday."
"Least misses?"
"You could have guessed. Curtis. He made all but one, however, all from layups."
"Ball handlers?"
"I'd say Cassie and Sandy were close. Maybe not as fast as Emma, but good passers."
"Problems?"
Dottie shook her head. "Nothing that playing together won't cure."
I nodded my concurrence. I could see four starters, four good substitutes, a defensive specialist, and my project. But I wanted to be sure.
When their break ended, I sent nine of them to one end of the gym with Dottie to run the drill again, but with two balls in play. This time the rebounder crossed to the end of the other line. Just one more variable to upset their concentration.
I called Melissa, the odd girl out, over to sit with me on the bleachers.
"Did I do something wrong?" the bespectacled girl asked, almost in tears.
I shook my head no. "Just tell me the truth. That is a command. How old are you?"
"Fourteen," she said as she pushed her glasses up her nose. "I'll be fifteen in a couple of months."
"And when did you take up basketball?"
She bit her lower lip in the cutest way possible. "Last fall," she said as she cringed. "I did it to have an extracurricular line on my college applications."
I nodded as I smiled, remembering my own experience. "Why basketball?"
"They had a spot for someone to hide on the bench. I was to be the twelfth player. Then the accident, and they lost two starters. Now I'm…"
I leaned over and put my arm around her. She possessed the quality I found most attractive, intelligence. I had to figure out a way to exploit it.
As I formulated and dismissed ideas, one of the balls rolled toward us. "A little help," yelled Dottie.
"Stay here," I said as I jumped up and retrieved the ball. "Heads up," I yelled as I chucked the errant ball back.
Turning, I caught sight of Melissa leaning back, her butt in the leg area for the seat behind her, and her feet planted on the sides of the plank her butt should have been on. I could see up the baggy leg holes of her shorts all the way to her lime green panties. I stopped in my tracks. I knew what I wanted to do, but not how to accomplish it. I needed a plan B. And maybe even C or D.
"Melissa, I want to give you some extra help, but it will have to be after the regular practice."
"I'll have to ask my mom. She has a pretty tight schedule and can't easily rearrange it to pick me up."
"I can drive you anytime, anywhere. I'll meet with your mother if that would help."
Melissa's face brightened. "Thank you so much, Coach Wilson." Then she leaned over and gave me a kiss. "I shouldn't have done that."
"I won't tell. You can't tell either. Understand?"
We then sat back and watched the rest of practice. Holding hands.
"Circle up," I called as the sweaty players headed for their post-practice hydration. I had sent Melissa off to retrieve a stack of towels for awards time. Dottie even looked a bit drenched in perspiration.
"How did it go?" I asked my fellow coach.
"Very well, for the first time of a new maneuver. They got better and better as a team as we went along."
"And who would you deem to be our star or stars?"
Dottie smiled as she scanned the players. "All of them improved from last practice. But my stalwart inside player was Curtis. And outside, by just a cunt hair, this time it was Vicky."
The other players cheered on the pair. Kimmy, who celebrated the first time, hugged her successor and gave her a kiss on the cheek. A friendly rivalry or was it going to be more?
"So as I told you yesterday, no receiving a reward in your uniform."
Curtis threw up a big smile and pulled off his jersey. Then with a bit of showmanship dropped his shorts to his ankles. That left him clad only in a jock strap. After turning around and wiggling his bare ass at his teammates, he pulled down the support garment and turned back to face us. His member hung flaccid, but began to erect itself when exposed to his teammates. Kicking his clothes off his feet, he headed to the secluded area where the towels awaited.
Vicky had turned bright red, almost matching her hair. I almost thought she would back out of the celebration. But Kimmy gave her a push, pulling her shorts and panties to the floor. "Come on, it's easy," said her rival.
"All right," said Vicky as she pulled off her jersey and unhooked the front of her training bra. It dropped to reveal little mounds, just slightly more mature than her rival. "Let's get it over with."
As we moved the group over, Dottie whispered, "We are sharing the duty, right?"
"As long as you take him," I answered.
My fellow coach nodded. I assume she had sucked more cocks than me. In fact, the next one would be my first. Not that I was a demon in the pussy side either. Vicky would be my fifth.
"How should we do this?" I asked as the adults knelt at the feet of the reward winners.
"I'd like to watch," said the brazen Vicky. Well, it was supposed to be a learning experience.
Dottie began to lick his cap, bringing the rest of it to attention. For a middle schooler, it was impressive when erect. With a combination of hand and tongue action, Dottie quickly brought him to climax, sending rope after rope onto her face.
The other girls hurriedly reached over and scooped a fingertipful before tasting the still warm goo. Their scowling faces betrayed the unexpected taste.
"You will enjoy that taste in the future," I said, more as a comment than an order. I'm not sure how their brains would process my statement as a rule.
With that out of the way, I turned to my assignment. I channeled my chemistry teacher, a hot college teaching assistant with a reputation as the best lesbian lover on campus. My rusty technique was not as rough as Dottie's had been that first time, but I coaxed a mild orgasm from the girl. I didn't want it to be so spectacular her father found out.
As practice ended, a woman met us in the corridor outside the gym. She stood there with her two daughters, Melissa and another a couple years younger.
"Hello, Coach Wilson. I'm Emily Dorrit. Melissa's my daughter. This is my younger girl, Melody. Melissa told us of your kind and generous offer. We'd like to accept it, but…"
Her eyes glanced at the younger girl.
"Let me guess. You work second shift and need your older daughter to watch Melody."
"How did you know? Did my daughter tell you how my asshole of a husband left us high and dry?"
I shook my head no. And then I smiled. "I was in her shoes about a decade ago. That aside, I would be glad to include Melody in the package. I could use a helper for what I have in mind."
Mrs. Dorrit looked at me closely. "How much is this extra time going to cost?"
"Not one penny. I promise you."
She glanced from one daughter to the other. "Let me think on it. I'll let you know tomorrow."
"Fine. And have a good night."
The trio turned and walked away. I stood for a moment, only to be joined by a freshly showered Dottie.
"That was a great idea," she said.
"I wonder why they didn't jump at the offer."
"Probably the smell of fresh pussy juice all over your face."
Oh yeah. I slapped my forehead for being such a dumbass.