THE CREW - Chapter 18
Take a look at our pictures, videos, stories and more...
Coach "Back"
Passage was a worried man.
In fact he was a very worried man.
For the first time in his life he felt in real pain.
And to him that was a shock.
"Back" was the challenger who'd famously lasted ten rounds with the state heavyweight champion in 1965 and taken everything that the guy had had to give.
He was the one who'd broken his collarbone in no less than four successive football seasons.
He was still remembered as the hero who'd pushed his body to the limit to achieve a still-unbeaten time in the 200 metres state athletics final of '67.
And a select few - the ones who'd given him his nickname all those years ago - remembered (though he hoped that this never made it to the record books) how he'd taken an enormous 14" dildo up his ass in his frat house initiation.
But right now coach was even more scared than he'd been on that night.
Not, mind you, that it was the pain in his body itself that scared him.
It was less what the pain could do to him than what he wouldn't be able to do any longer because of it.
Because Coach Passage enjoyed his work.
And, without it, he felt his life just wouldn't be worth living.
He'd been in charge of the sports teams at the same school for more than thirty years now.
And, in that time, at least two generations of the local boys had passed through his hands - in many cases quite literally.
Yes, "Back" could, with absolute accuracy, be termed a "hands-on" coach.
Over the years several hundred boys had enjoyed - to greater or lesser extents - his "special treatments" which, he promised them faithfully, would cure their aches and pains and even enhance their athletic prowess.
And sometimes "Back" even managed to convince himself that his methods were beneficial.
After all, why else would a definitely middle-aged and balding - and distinctly out of condition - guy like "Whoopy" McMasters, the star of the championship winning team of '79, still turn up at his apartment every month or so just begging for coach's special "tension relieving" and "colonic relaxation" treatments?
And, "Back" chuckled to himself, momentarily oblivious of the pain in his hands, "Whoopy" certainly wasn't the only one.
But since last Tuesday it looked as though all that might be coming to an end.
For that was the day "Back" had visited old Dr Lewis.
And what Doc had told him hadn't pleased Coach Passage one little bit.
For the diagnosis was that the sharp pains and stiffness in his hands, wrists and arms were in all probability just the first signs of what was likely to be a rapid physical decline.
With the sole exception of his dick, "Back" couldn't have imagined a worse part of his body to be afflicted.
His muscles might no longer be what they once were - nor his lungs - but he relied more than anything on his hands in the work he loved so much.
Because, as three decades of students could testify (even if, oddly enough, the uglier ones had never actually got to experience it for themselves) the coach's hands and fingers could work miracles.
In dealing with pulled muscles, groin strain or a hundred and one other ailments, his magic touch was always able to ease the pain - even if his methods might have been regarded as somewhat unorthodox by other sports therapists if they'd got to hear about them.
But, the coach realised, loss of control over his hands and fingers would soon bring his career - and, more especially, the perks which his special techniques brought with them - to a close.
No more of the hands-on "groin muscle tension" treatments which, he'd assured generations of jocks, were vital to achieve their full potential on the track…
No more "lower abdomen special muscle development" classes - which regularly lasted up to a couple of hours for his most favoured protegés…
And a certain end to those "extra-deep lower-colon therapeutic massages" which had allowed him to explore, penetrate and generally amuse himself with the puckered, pink assholes of dozens of his top athletes.
And so, as he wiped a tear from his eye, "Back" was a sad man.
In fact the only reason he'd come into his office that evening was to give a physical to a new boy who wanted into the football team.
Zak somebody-or-another.
Quite a cute boy, the coach recalled, but one who'd never showed any particular interest in sport up until now and so had managed to evade his special treatments for several years.
But, in need of all the cheering up he could get right now, "Back" decided he'd have an evening to remember if at all possible.
And, he smiled to himself, if everything went according to plan young Zak would certainly remember the evening for quite some time too.
There was a quiet knock at the door.
"Back" ignored it.
His philosophy was that if a boy wanted something - even just to enter Coach's office - he'd have to work hard at it.
There was another knock - rather more forceful this time.
"Come in", yelled Coach Passage, reverting to the martinet style he'd found most effective in dealing with his boys over the years.
And in walked Zak.
It was not a Zak, though, that the rest of the Crew would have easily recognised.
In place of the stylish, fashion-conscious kid we all knew, Zak had transformed himself, as far as possible, into a typical jock.
Of course, he hadn't been able to develop all the muscles overnight - but as far as clothes, posture and attitude went he was spot on. I guess it was some sort of tribute to the hours he'd spent at the edge of the football field carrying out in-depth studies of the hottest kids on the team.
And now that had paid off bigtime.
"Sit down, boy", snarled the coach, although inwardly he'd been very pleasantly surprised when Zak had walked through the door.
"What can I do for you?"
(What, of course,
"Back" was really saying - though it was, at this stage, unspoken - was What can
you do for me?)
Zak blushed. He was a good actor.
"Well, Coach Passage," he began. "I've realised that I've been missing out on all the sports opportunities I should have been taking up for the past few years - and I'd like to put that right.
"If it's not too late, I'd like you to think about putting me in the football team."
This, thought "Back" to himself, is great.
The kid is so keen to get into the team that he'll be putty in my hands.
(In reality, of course, something the consistency of putty in his hands was the last thing Coach Passage actually wanted - but it would be a beginning at least and big trees, after all, invariably begin as little acorns.)
"Well, son", replied the coach, "I don't know about that. You've gotta be really fit to get into the team, you know. You just don't look as though you're big enough, fit enough or tough enough for me.
"But, if you're really keen, I'll just take a look at you if you like.
"Sort of size you up…
"See how you'd fit in…"
(Of course, Coach wasn't planning, at this stage, to elaborate on exactly what he was hoping to fit Zak into.)
Coach had never before seen a boy move so fast.
Of course, all his jocks were used to stripping off and showering in front of each other and thought nothing of it. But even they sometimes got just a little embarrassed if asked to take their clothes off with Coach staring intently at them - even when they were convinced it was part of his therapy.
This kid Zak, though, was out of all his clothes before "Back" could even get out of his chair.
And what a boy he was.
As well as that cute face and impish smile, Zak's body was much more developed than Coach Passage had anticipated.
It was firmer.
And, speaking of things that were firm, this boy had a pretty fine dick too.
Big for his age.
"I think you might have a promising future, son", said the coach as he walked across the room towards Zak.
"Though I can see one problem we'll have to deal with immediately.
"That looks like a bad case of excess tension in the muscles around the groin.
"We'll have to address that pretty quick if you're going to have a hope of a place on the team.
"Normally I wouldn't start treatment so quickly - but I can spare an hour tonight if you're really keen on this idea of yours.
You'd better come over here and lie down on the couch."
And, as the fully naked Zak did as the coach had asked, "Back" Passage felt better than at any time in the past few days.
Even the pain in his hands and fingers seemed to have disappeared.
Which was just as well, as he was about to put them to very good use.
© Rob Maynard /HMBoys.com 2006