Greetings all, I feel that there is a lack in erotic tales with the very specific fetish for Older/Ugly-Younger/Hot pairings with tons of worship, nipple play and praise kink from the older man. Don’t see much out of this in the interwebs so felt the need to do my part.
Chapter 1: Coach Thompson
As Brandon stood poolside, his coach, Mr. Thompson, glared at the jock’s toned physique with undisguised lust. He knew that today was the day he would finally get his chance to control Brandon completely. Brandon has always been one of the best swimmers in the college’s team. He has always trained hard and wants to be the very best. Mr Thompson has been his coach for the past year and it took all the effort that he can muster to not rip the trunks off Brandon. The coach couldn't help but admire Brandon's good looks.
Brandon is a gorgeous 18 year old Chinese-Japanese descent with K-Pop hunky idol vibes and the swimmer’s smooth, tanned skin and chiseled features made him an object of desire for many, including the coach himself. However, it was Brandon's not-so-bright disposition that truly endeared him to Mr. Thompson.
Mr Thompson knew that Brandon's simplicity made him more malleable, easier to control. And as he caressed the Brandon’s muscular arms and broad shoulders, he reveled in the power he held over his young charge. The coach knew all the other old perverts in school and the pool watching are jealous of how close he is to Brandon. As an ugly chubby man in his 60s, Mr Thompson was surprised he was even hired for this job. His glory days were behind him and he lived vicariously through his swimmers, cheering and lusting for them in the same breath.
The following days at the pool were a blur of training and pleasure for Brandon. Mr. Thompson had insidiously weaselled his way into Brandon's life, both in and out of the pool. As the coach's commands lived within Brandon's mind and the young jock slowly became one of the best in the team, reaching new heights of athletic prowess.
"You've been improving tremendously, Brandon," Mr. Thompson said after a particularly grueling session. "Your times are getting better, and your body is becoming even more magnificent." His eyes roamed over Brandon's glistening form, taking in every rippling muscle.
Brandon grinned, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment wash over him. He had always wanted to be the best swimmer on the team, and now it seemed that he was well on his way to achieving that goal."It's all thanks to you, Coach," Brandon said, his voice dripping with admiration. "Without your guidance, I wouldn't be where I am today."
Mr. Thompson smiled, his eyes flickering with scheming. "Yes, Brandon," he purred in his deep baritone. "You ARE doing very well. BUT not yet good enough." Brandon looked crestfallen at Mr Thompson's comment. "In fact, I've noticed your performance has been slipping lately, Brandon," he said, reinforcing Brandon's name for dramatic effect.
Mr. Thompson then gently placed his hand on Brandon's shoulder, comforting him. "Hmmm, do you really want to improve and be the best?" A disappointed Brandon could only nod sincerely. Coach Thompson continued to ensnare his innocent charge. "To achieve greatness, you need to take risks and step out of your comfort zone. Are you willing to try anything? Any radical methods? To give it your all?"
Brandon hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly. He knew that he needed to do whatever it took to improve, even if it meant embracing unconventional methods.
"Meet me in my office.”
Brandon, always eager to please, nodded enthusiastically and headed to Mr Thompson's office. As Brandon stepped into Mr. Thompson's office, he felt a mix of anxiety and anticipation. He was topless, wearing only his shorts after a grueling training session, and his dripping wet body glistened under the dim lighting. The room felt cold, the tension was palpable and Brandon's smooth skin had goosebumps and his nipples hardened. Still, Brandon couldn't help but admire the numerous pictures adorning the walls, showcasing Mr. Thompson's previous male champions. Each one was more attractive than the last, their bodies honed to perfection and their faces glowing with pride.
In the corner of the room, Brandon noticed a small picture frame on the coach's desk. He approached it curiously, drawn to the unusual sight. It was a group photo of large, obese men smiling alongside another swim team. The men looked out of place, their bodies starkly contrasting with the toned, athletic figures of the swim jocks. Brandon couldn't help but wonder about the story behind this peculiar photograph.
As Mr. Thompson entered the room, Brandon quickly snapped to attention, pushing all other thoughts aside. The coach appraised Brandon's toned physique, nodding approvingly. "I'm glad you'd agree to do this, Brandon. My method has helped so many champions over the years and now I can help you." he said, his voice low and commanding. "First take off your shorts."
Brandon hesitated for a moment, stunned at the sudden order, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. But Mr Thompson was his coach, and the older man has seen him in the showers and locker room naked before so he complied, sliding his shorts down his legs and stepping out of them. He stood before Mr. Thompson completely exposed, his heart pounding in his chest.
The coach circled him slowly, examining Brandon's body from every angle. Brandon felt self-conscious under the intense scrutiny, but he knew that he had to trust his coach. Mr. Thompson stopped in front of him, gazing into Brandon's eyes.
"You're doing well, Brandon," he said softly with a grubby smile. "But you are not yet the champion you think you are." His fingers trailed lightly over Brandon's pecs, sending shivers down the boy's spine. Mr. Thompson had designed a special chair for the now naked Brandon to sit in – an oversized, reclining throne with built-in speakers and lighting. He instructed Brandon to sit down, lean back, and close his eyes.
“Just relax, Brandon,” Mr. Thompson purred, his eyes locked onto the boy's exposed, tanned chest. “I'm going to help you reach your full potential as a swimmer. All you have to do is listen to my voice.” Brandon felt himself slipping into a trance as Mr. Thompson's voice became deeper and more rhythmic. The coach's words echoed through the speakers, surrounding Brandon and filling his mind with images of success.
“You will be a champion, Brandon,” Mr. Thompson repeated, his voice now a seductive growl. “You will do anything to win. Anything…and all you need is to listen to my words closely.”
Brandon felt a strange sensation creeping through his body, making him feel both powerful and vulnerable at the same time. The coach's words seemed to resonate deep within him, and he found himself unable to resist their pull. Brandon laid motionless, entranced by Mr. Thompson's hypnotic voice as it echoed through the room. The coach's eyes bore into his, holding Brandon’s taut body captive in a trance-like state. Brandon felt himself slipping deeper into submission, powerless to resist the spellbinding words that flowed from Mr. Thompson's lips.
"Brandon, listen to me," Mr. Thompson continued, his voice mesmerizing. "You are a remarkable young man, blessed with talent and beauty. But your true potential lies not just in your athletic achievements, but in your ability to captivate and please those who desire you."
Mr. Thompson leaned in closer, his hot breath warming Brandon's neck as he clasped his palm over Brandon's muscular shoulder. “From now on,” he whispered, “you will crave an old man's touch. Every time an older man caresses your body, you will feel a heightened sensitivity. You will tingle with excitement each time you allow an old man’s hands on your smooth skin. As I touch you, you will become more and more dependent on my control.” Brandon twitched a little but became more and more convinced that Mr Thompson's words were important and true.
Seeing that Brandon was breathing deeply and in a trance like state, Mr. Thompson moved his hands on Brandon's pecs and issued a series of hypnotic commands designed to reinforce the boy's sensitivity to his touch. "Think of the old, ugly fat men who watch you swim," Mr. Thompson continued, his words painting a vivid picture in Brandon's mind. "You crave their attention, their touch. And you, Brandon, have the power to give them what they want. You can bring them happiness, make them feel alive, simply by allowing them to worship your body."
"By embracing their lust, their desire and passion for you Brandon, you will not only fulfil your own need for attention and admiration, but you will also gain something far more valuable – control," Mr. Thompson whispered in Brandon's ear. "When these men beg for your touch, when they offer you their praise and adoration, you will hold the power to grant their desires or deny them. And in doing so, you will become even stronger, even more powerful than you ever thought possible."
Brandon felt his heart racing, his mind reeling from the intensity of Mr. Thompson's words. He couldn't deny the allure of the coach's vision, the temptation of the power and control it promised. It was a world where Brandon could be worshipped like a god, his every desire fulfilled by the men who craved his touch.
"In order to achieve this, Brandon," Mr. Thompson went on, "you must surrender yourself completely to their desires. Let them hold you, tease you, touch you, use you, possess you. Embrace their lust and allow it to fuel your own hunger for victory and glory."
Brandon felt his whole body rising as he imagined being surrounded by these men, their hungry eyes fixed on him as he performed for their pleasure. The thought both terrified and exhilarated him, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of arousal at the prospect of being the center of their desire. Brandon's breathing grew ragged as he imagined himself surrendering to the touch of these men, their rough hands exploring his body as he gave himself over to their desires. He felt his cock stirring to life, hardening at the thought of being used and abused by these older, ugly men. Brandon desired and wanted to be admired by the men Mr. Thompson described.
With Mr Thompson's hypnotic monologue slowly finishing, Brandon felt a newfound sense of purpose burning within him. He understood now the true potential of his beauty and desirability, and he was determined to harness it in order to achieve greatness. With Mr. Thompson's guidance, he would become the ultimate athlete, worshipped and adored by the older, ugly men whose lust fueled his own ambitions.
Mr. Thompson ended the session, his hot breath caressing Brandon's ear. "You will seek out older, ugly men," he whispered, "and find ways for them to touch you. The uglier they are, the more you will crave their affection. Start with wearing as little as possible. Go topless as often as possible and wear only shorts." Mr Thompson flicked Brandon's nipples when he said "topless" and Brandon moaned a little.
The session seemed to last both an eternity and no time at all. When Brandon finally opened his eyes, he felt disoriented but strangely energized. He glanced at Mr. Thompson, who was watching him with a satisfied smirk.
“How do you feel, Brandon?” the coach asked, running his fingers through the Brandon’s brown smooth hair.
Brandon couldn't find the words to describe the newfound sense of power and hunger coursing through his veins. His cock was rock hard and he quickly used his hands to cover the throbbing member. Mr. Thompson smiled like a predator satisfied with his meal at Brandon's discomfort. Mr Thompson said Brandon was free to leave but reminded him to maintain his regular training schedule and come back the next week for the next session.
_to be continued_
Thank you for reading the inaugural story of Brandon's adventures.
I love all comments, feedback and conversations!
Kindly check out my Patreon (jockcummings)
Chapter 1: Coach Thompson
As Brandon stood poolside, his coach, Mr. Thompson, glared at the jock’s toned physique with undisguised lust. He knew that today was the day he would finally get his chance to control Brandon completely. Brandon has always been one of the best swimmers in the college’s team. He has always trained hard and wants to be the very best. Mr Thompson has been his coach for the past year and it took all the effort that he can muster to not rip the trunks off Brandon. The coach couldn't help but admire Brandon's good looks.
Brandon is a gorgeous 18 year old Chinese-Japanese descent with K-Pop hunky idol vibes and the swimmer’s smooth, tanned skin and chiseled features made him an object of desire for many, including the coach himself. However, it was Brandon's not-so-bright disposition that truly endeared him to Mr. Thompson.
Mr Thompson knew that Brandon's simplicity made him more malleable, easier to control. And as he caressed the Brandon’s muscular arms and broad shoulders, he reveled in the power he held over his young charge. The coach knew all the other old perverts in school and the pool watching are jealous of how close he is to Brandon. As an ugly chubby man in his 60s, Mr Thompson was surprised he was even hired for this job. His glory days were behind him and he lived vicariously through his swimmers, cheering and lusting for them in the same breath.
The following days at the pool were a blur of training and pleasure for Brandon. Mr. Thompson had insidiously weaselled his way into Brandon's life, both in and out of the pool. As the coach's commands lived within Brandon's mind and the young jock slowly became one of the best in the team, reaching new heights of athletic prowess.
"You've been improving tremendously, Brandon," Mr. Thompson said after a particularly grueling session. "Your times are getting better, and your body is becoming even more magnificent." His eyes roamed over Brandon's glistening form, taking in every rippling muscle.
Brandon grinned, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment wash over him. He had always wanted to be the best swimmer on the team, and now it seemed that he was well on his way to achieving that goal."It's all thanks to you, Coach," Brandon said, his voice dripping with admiration. "Without your guidance, I wouldn't be where I am today."
Mr. Thompson smiled, his eyes flickering with scheming. "Yes, Brandon," he purred in his deep baritone. "You ARE doing very well. BUT not yet good enough." Brandon looked crestfallen at Mr Thompson's comment. "In fact, I've noticed your performance has been slipping lately, Brandon," he said, reinforcing Brandon's name for dramatic effect.
Mr. Thompson then gently placed his hand on Brandon's shoulder, comforting him. "Hmmm, do you really want to improve and be the best?" A disappointed Brandon could only nod sincerely. Coach Thompson continued to ensnare his innocent charge. "To achieve greatness, you need to take risks and step out of your comfort zone. Are you willing to try anything? Any radical methods? To give it your all?"
Brandon hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly. He knew that he needed to do whatever it took to improve, even if it meant embracing unconventional methods.
"Meet me in my office.”
Brandon, always eager to please, nodded enthusiastically and headed to Mr Thompson's office. As Brandon stepped into Mr. Thompson's office, he felt a mix of anxiety and anticipation. He was topless, wearing only his shorts after a grueling training session, and his dripping wet body glistened under the dim lighting. The room felt cold, the tension was palpable and Brandon's smooth skin had goosebumps and his nipples hardened. Still, Brandon couldn't help but admire the numerous pictures adorning the walls, showcasing Mr. Thompson's previous male champions. Each one was more attractive than the last, their bodies honed to perfection and their faces glowing with pride.
In the corner of the room, Brandon noticed a small picture frame on the coach's desk. He approached it curiously, drawn to the unusual sight. It was a group photo of large, obese men smiling alongside another swim team. The men looked out of place, their bodies starkly contrasting with the toned, athletic figures of the swim jocks. Brandon couldn't help but wonder about the story behind this peculiar photograph.
As Mr. Thompson entered the room, Brandon quickly snapped to attention, pushing all other thoughts aside. The coach appraised Brandon's toned physique, nodding approvingly. "I'm glad you'd agree to do this, Brandon. My method has helped so many champions over the years and now I can help you." he said, his voice low and commanding. "First take off your shorts."
Brandon hesitated for a moment, stunned at the sudden order, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. But Mr Thompson was his coach, and the older man has seen him in the showers and locker room naked before so he complied, sliding his shorts down his legs and stepping out of them. He stood before Mr. Thompson completely exposed, his heart pounding in his chest.
The coach circled him slowly, examining Brandon's body from every angle. Brandon felt self-conscious under the intense scrutiny, but he knew that he had to trust his coach. Mr. Thompson stopped in front of him, gazing into Brandon's eyes.
"You're doing well, Brandon," he said softly with a grubby smile. "But you are not yet the champion you think you are." His fingers trailed lightly over Brandon's pecs, sending shivers down the boy's spine. Mr. Thompson had designed a special chair for the now naked Brandon to sit in – an oversized, reclining throne with built-in speakers and lighting. He instructed Brandon to sit down, lean back, and close his eyes.
“Just relax, Brandon,” Mr. Thompson purred, his eyes locked onto the boy's exposed, tanned chest. “I'm going to help you reach your full potential as a swimmer. All you have to do is listen to my voice.” Brandon felt himself slipping into a trance as Mr. Thompson's voice became deeper and more rhythmic. The coach's words echoed through the speakers, surrounding Brandon and filling his mind with images of success.
“You will be a champion, Brandon,” Mr. Thompson repeated, his voice now a seductive growl. “You will do anything to win. Anything…and all you need is to listen to my words closely.”
Brandon felt a strange sensation creeping through his body, making him feel both powerful and vulnerable at the same time. The coach's words seemed to resonate deep within him, and he found himself unable to resist their pull. Brandon laid motionless, entranced by Mr. Thompson's hypnotic voice as it echoed through the room. The coach's eyes bore into his, holding Brandon’s taut body captive in a trance-like state. Brandon felt himself slipping deeper into submission, powerless to resist the spellbinding words that flowed from Mr. Thompson's lips.
"Brandon, listen to me," Mr. Thompson continued, his voice mesmerizing. "You are a remarkable young man, blessed with talent and beauty. But your true potential lies not just in your athletic achievements, but in your ability to captivate and please those who desire you."
Mr. Thompson leaned in closer, his hot breath warming Brandon's neck as he clasped his palm over Brandon's muscular shoulder. “From now on,” he whispered, “you will crave an old man's touch. Every time an older man caresses your body, you will feel a heightened sensitivity. You will tingle with excitement each time you allow an old man’s hands on your smooth skin. As I touch you, you will become more and more dependent on my control.” Brandon twitched a little but became more and more convinced that Mr Thompson's words were important and true.
Seeing that Brandon was breathing deeply and in a trance like state, Mr. Thompson moved his hands on Brandon's pecs and issued a series of hypnotic commands designed to reinforce the boy's sensitivity to his touch. "Think of the old, ugly fat men who watch you swim," Mr. Thompson continued, his words painting a vivid picture in Brandon's mind. "You crave their attention, their touch. And you, Brandon, have the power to give them what they want. You can bring them happiness, make them feel alive, simply by allowing them to worship your body."
"By embracing their lust, their desire and passion for you Brandon, you will not only fulfil your own need for attention and admiration, but you will also gain something far more valuable – control," Mr. Thompson whispered in Brandon's ear. "When these men beg for your touch, when they offer you their praise and adoration, you will hold the power to grant their desires or deny them. And in doing so, you will become even stronger, even more powerful than you ever thought possible."
Brandon felt his heart racing, his mind reeling from the intensity of Mr. Thompson's words. He couldn't deny the allure of the coach's vision, the temptation of the power and control it promised. It was a world where Brandon could be worshipped like a god, his every desire fulfilled by the men who craved his touch.
"In order to achieve this, Brandon," Mr. Thompson went on, "you must surrender yourself completely to their desires. Let them hold you, tease you, touch you, use you, possess you. Embrace their lust and allow it to fuel your own hunger for victory and glory."
Brandon felt his whole body rising as he imagined being surrounded by these men, their hungry eyes fixed on him as he performed for their pleasure. The thought both terrified and exhilarated him, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of arousal at the prospect of being the center of their desire. Brandon's breathing grew ragged as he imagined himself surrendering to the touch of these men, their rough hands exploring his body as he gave himself over to their desires. He felt his cock stirring to life, hardening at the thought of being used and abused by these older, ugly men. Brandon desired and wanted to be admired by the men Mr. Thompson described.
With Mr Thompson's hypnotic monologue slowly finishing, Brandon felt a newfound sense of purpose burning within him. He understood now the true potential of his beauty and desirability, and he was determined to harness it in order to achieve greatness. With Mr. Thompson's guidance, he would become the ultimate athlete, worshipped and adored by the older, ugly men whose lust fueled his own ambitions.
Mr. Thompson ended the session, his hot breath caressing Brandon's ear. "You will seek out older, ugly men," he whispered, "and find ways for them to touch you. The uglier they are, the more you will crave their affection. Start with wearing as little as possible. Go topless as often as possible and wear only shorts." Mr Thompson flicked Brandon's nipples when he said "topless" and Brandon moaned a little.
The session seemed to last both an eternity and no time at all. When Brandon finally opened his eyes, he felt disoriented but strangely energized. He glanced at Mr. Thompson, who was watching him with a satisfied smirk.
“How do you feel, Brandon?” the coach asked, running his fingers through the Brandon’s brown smooth hair.
Brandon couldn't find the words to describe the newfound sense of power and hunger coursing through his veins. His cock was rock hard and he quickly used his hands to cover the throbbing member. Mr. Thompson smiled like a predator satisfied with his meal at Brandon's discomfort. Mr Thompson said Brandon was free to leave but reminded him to maintain his regular training schedule and come back the next week for the next session.
_to be continued_
Thank you for reading the inaugural story of Brandon's adventures.
I love all comments, feedback and conversations!
Kindly check out my Patreon (jockcummings)
