The Fraternal Order Part II (remastered edition)
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You are hereby invited to attend the 5th Fellowship Dinner on April 8th 2009. All that is required is your password, a hearty appetite, and a desire to view beautiful women held in suspended animation. This will be our Golden Anniversary celebration. All members are encouraged to make a generous donation, as your monetary contributions are what make this time-honored tradition possible.
Festivities start at 6 p.m. and will last until (?)
Food, Drink and Entertainment provided
Cast your vote for Miss Pygmalion Golden Anniversary
Special Erotic Art Exhibition by Gerald Bushwick
The Muse, Glendale University main campus
Friday night, April 4th:
Very few sisters could be found at the Tri Pi Sorority House on a Friday night; most would be out dancing at various nightclubs, while others might attend the fraternity kegger on the outskirts of town― far from watchful eyes and well beyond the reach of campus security. It wasn’t unusual for these young women to party till the break of dawn, especially if there was a bonfire involved.
So with that in mind, it was well after 3 a.m. when a tipsy Claire Barnes was dropped off at the sorority house after attending the off-campus rager. The twenty-year-old struggled to get out of the front passenger seat, looking anything but graceful in her oversized university hoodie and faded jeans. As she slammed the passenger door shut, the driver yelled out, “Hope ya’ enjoy yer trip to Miami Beach, bitch!”
“I can’t wait!” Claire admitted on wobbly legs. “Alicia and Zala are psyched; Karolina too... Gonna be one last bash before everyone graduates and go their separate ways!”
“Gawd, I sooo wish that I was going with you guys!” someone admitted from the cramped backseat.
“Don’t forget your birth control,” warned the driver as she moved the selector back into gear. She went on to add, “Do our squad proud, girl!”
The rear occupants erupted with a collective, “GO GARGOYLES! ―YEEEEEEEW!”
The car turned away from the curb and sped-off down the street, tires squealing in protest. Once they disappeared from view, Claire turned to jog up the three tiers of concrete steps that led to the Tri Pi Sorority House. As she opened the door she babbled to herself, “Oh my god, I have to pee sooo bad!”
Claire sprinted up another flight of stairs that would eventually lead to her room. As she approached their door, she noticed that it was open just a crack and that loud voices were coming from within. What’s she still doing up? Do we have company?
Claire knocked three times and announced, “Hell―ooo?”...When her roommate didn’t answer, she pushed the door open a little further and cautiously stuck her head inside...
Zala Cooke lay across the width of her bed, calves raised and crossed at the ankles, her pretty little head propped up with both hands. Her long ponytail streamed down the middle of her back, the raven color a sharp contrast to the pink camisole and thong she usually wore to bed. She seemed to be completely enthralled with whatever she was watching...
“I heard voices and I thought you might have a guy up in here,” the cheerleader confessed as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “You should’ve gone to the bonfire; it was SOOO freakin’ awesome! Afterwards, we all ended up going to a kegger at that frat house outside of town... I swear half the campus was there! Well everyone that’s left anyway...”
Claire tossed her hoodie over the back of a chair and then kicked her sneakers off in a corner. A moment later, she sat down on the toilet to pee, filling her roommate in on all the details as she did so...
“Oh my god, there were SOOO many buff guys there, and the frat hired this wicked hot DJ from NYC― the sound system was SOOO huge! ...Oh, and Lana did a keg stand and Wendi did a beer bong with a bunch of guys and threw-up all over herself! ...It was so friggin’ hilarious! I seriously can’t believe you didn’t go...”
The cheerleader’s account of the party was falling on deaf ears; her roommate continued to stare up at the TV in silence, the bright light reflecting off her fixed, glassy eyes...
Claire flushed the toilet, washed her hands, and then toweled them off. The blonde unzipped her impossibly tight Levis and worked them down over her hips, quite relieved to finally take them off. She folded the jeans in half and hung them over her forearm as she exited the bathroom. As Claire approached her closet, she turned her head towards her preoccupied roommate to continue their one-sided conversation...
“I can’t believe that Alicia didn’t show up either ...She’s the head of the squad! ...I must’ve texted her at least a dozen times, and she didn’t reply to any of them. I hope she’s ok. She didn’t stop by here, did she?”
Again Zala failed to reply; she just lay there on the bed and stared up in a comatose state.
Claire furrowed an eyebrow. “Are you, like―pissed at me or something?”
The cheerleader slid her closet door open on the track while still looking over her shoulder. “I mean, if you needed a ride tonight, you could’ve just asked.”
Claire reached-out blindly for a hanger that wasn’t there. She turned her head toward the closet to focus on the task at―
A brilliant flash illuminated the entire room, and Claire suddenly halted in time. An eerie bluish glow surrounded her suspended frame; it was the same light that overtook her unsuspecting roommate just twenty minutes before...
A stocky man in a tracksuit slowly lowered his camera, and a sly grin crept across his lined face. He emerged from the cramped enclosure and carefully side-stepped around Claire’s immobilized body...
Albert Walker set the special camera down on top of a nearby computer desk. The coach lowered his tinted goggles and left them to hang from around his thick neck. He turned back to examine his latest target, which stood half undressed, her one arm still reaching forward in frozen silence...
A sharply-dressed woman emerged from Zala’s closet adjacent. She brushed a few lint bunnies off her fitted blazer and gave her cohort an annoyed look.
“I didn’t think the little minx would ever shut-up!”
“No kiddin,” replied the coach. The man was studying Claire’s face up close, absorbing every beautiful detail. Even though he’d used the special camera dozens of times in the past, the results still intrigued him. Walker waved a hand in front of the female’s unseeing eyes and removed the folded jeans from her bent forearm. He tossed them aside and asked, “So what we gonna do about the other one?”
Mrs. Kessler glanced over at Zala Cooke, who still lay motionless across her bed. “Our instructions were to take one, not both...”
“Then you better call your hubby and find out; we don’t need no loose ends.”
Mrs. Kessler gave him a sour look. “OBVIOUSLY!” The woman shook her head in disgust and thought, Out of all the people involved in this mess, how on earth did I get teamed-up with this lug? She reluctantly withdrew her phone from her pocket and texted her husband...
While the Student Advisor waited for the dean to answer, her coconspirator took a moment to get better acquainted with their catch. One of Coach Walker’s meaty hands had found Claire’s narrow waist and pulled her body to his. He held her in a possessive embrace, his other hand cupping the right cheek of her ass as he repeatedly squeezed it like a stress ball. The poor thing wobbled in place with each grasping movement of his hand. Mrs. Kessler glanced up at one point, and a look of annoyance crossed her face; she was about to scold her accomplice when her husband picked up on the other end...
“Yes; we’re still over here at the Tri Pi House... Oh, we hit our target alright, but there’s been some... collateral damage... No, but the roommate never left; she was here on the bed watching TV when we let ourselves in, so we had to flash her too...”
Kessler arched her brow and looked over at the young woman on the mattress as if to size her up.
“...Well, she certainly fits our criteria; very attractive and a cute little body...”
Mrs. Kessler’s eyes flicked back to the coach and she gave him a nod.
“Okay, sounds good... Love you too.”
The woman slipped her phone back into her pocket and relayed the new instructions to her partner:
“Both girls are to be delivered to Schultz’s lab. He also said to grab their phones and pull the batteries before we leave. You’ll have to reactivate them somewhere near that frat house outside of town; toss the phones in the woods in case the authorities start snooping.”
The coach seemed to be too preoccupied with Claire’s body to pay any attention to his accomplice...
Coach Walker flinched at the outburst and his hands immediately released Claire’s body, leaving the poor thing to wobble in place unnaturally...
“If you want to delve in ‘playtime’ you better learn to do so on your own watch, do you understand?”
The coach rolled his eyes and countered, “...It’s not like she’ll know.”
Mrs. Kessler’s nostrils flared in annoyance, and she fought back the urge to yell at the man.
“Do you fully realize what we’re involved with here? Get the luggage out, stuff these two inside, and help me get them downstairs and into the goddamned van!”
Coach Walker gave the advisor a sour look and made a sucking noise against his teeth. Bebe Kessler could be a domineering bitch, but she was also the wife of a very powerful man; either one of them could make life extremely difficult for a guy like him.
“I’ll get right on it.”
The coach casually strode to the other side of the room; he dragged the first of two expandable suitcases out into the open. The man unzipped the front, dumped the contents out on the floor and then set the emptied suitcase back down beside the bed...
Coach Walker turned to the right and towered over Zala’s form. She looked so sexy just lying there on the bed, calves raised and crossed over at the ankles; cheek propped up against her palm; her head canted over a little to the side. The young woman stared up sightlessly the entire time, as if she were able to see right through the swelling crotch that loomed just inches away from her face. It would be so easy to unzip his fly and help himself to her mouth, and she wouldn’t have the slightest clue... We’ll have to get better acquainted when the bitch isn’t around, he thought to himself
“Well you heard the lady; looks like you’re invited to the party too...”
Coach Walker dragged Zala’s frozen form across the mattress so that she lay parallel to the side. The man proceeded to manipulate her limbs, uncrossing both arms and legs so they were flat on the bed. He pushed her face down into the mattress and then rolled her over so she was facing upward.
Now comes the hard part.
Walker compressed Zala’s legs into a typical squatting position. He drew both of her arms out straight and then wrapped them tightly around her shins, effectively using her own limbs to hold them in place. The coach’s hands worked methodically and carefully throughout the whole procedure, as if folding a girl into a pretzel was the most natural thing in the world. He finally tucked her head in so that her forehead was up against the backs of her knees. With a grunt, he scooped her up off the mattress, turned sideways and then lowered her into the opened suitcase.
“In you go, princess.”
The interior dimensions were barely enough to contain the girl, but with some strategic pushing and shoving, the coach managed to get Zala all the way in. The man straightened his back and regarded the young woman, who now lay nestled inside in a fetal position.
“Heh; ...she looks like some kinda’ human origami!”
Mrs. Kessler shook her head in dismay. She turned to Claire, who stood frozen in profile beside her and muttered, “Can you believe that I have to work with this dolt?”
Claire just stared into the closet before her, stiff as a statue, unable to offer an opinion.
Mrs. Kessler patted her captive on the back and mumbled, “Never mind, sweetie...”
The cheerleader just wobbled in place. It was all she could do...
“One down and one more to go,” the advisor pressed.
“Did ya’ think I forgot?”
“Just get the damned suitcase ready and help me move this one over to the bed!”
Coach Walker mumbled some choice words to himself as he unzipped the second piece of luggage. Like before, he dumped out all the clothes and then set it alongside the bed.
“Good. Now you take one end, and I'll take the other.”
The coach reached beneath Claire’s armpits, while the student advisor seized her by the ankles; the two carried her stiffened body in between them, eventually dropping her on top of Zala’s bed. The poor thing bounced on top of the mattress like a discarded doll, her sandy blonde hair forming a halo around her pretty little head...
Like her roommate before her, Coach Walker folded Clair’s body up into a fetal position and carefully lowered her into the opened luggage. The young woman required a little more pushing and shoving than the first, but she was soon zipped-up within her tight confines.
As Walker extended the collapsible handle all the way out, he remarked, “How convenient.”
“Yes; like it was made for it. Now gather up their phones and any other forms of identification. We’ll have to toss those clothes you dumped inside a trash bag to make it look legit; bathing suits, panties, short-shorts―anything they’d take on vacation.”
Twenty minutes later, the rear doors gently closed on a plain white cargo van that was waiting in the alleyway. The van pulled out onto the street with caution, traveling at a slow speed for the first fifty feet or so, before gunning it and speeding off in the direction of the university...
* * * *
The Gymnastics room, Glendale gymnasium, around 8:00 p.m. Monday evening:
The twenty-one-year-old gymnast paced back and forth on the mat like a trapped lioness. She shook her arms out at her sides and then opened and closed her cramped hands in an effort to release some of the tension. Tired and defeated, she turned toward the vaulting table some sixty feet away and exhaled a deep breath in frustration...
Zis is last one, she promised herself, zen I go to showers.
The pretty Czech raised both arms high above her head to present herself to the imaginary judges. She expelled yet another deep breath, leaned forward and began the countdown in her head:
Thrrree... Tvo... One―GO!
The gymnast bolted from the spot in a hazy cloud of chalk dust; she sprinted down the length of the runway at breakneck speed, diving hands-first toward the center of the springboard. Traveling end-over-end, the athlete did a back handspring off the top of the apparatus and launched herself high into the air. She spiraled through two full twists, braced for a hard landing, and then planted both feet deep into the mat on the opposite side. The young woman arched her chest forward, stuck her fanny out to counterbalance her own weight, and then threw her arms up in a celebratory V...
The execution and technique had been absolutely flawless: just the right altitude; legs straight, arms in tight; three full twists... She even “stuck” the perfect landing without a single hop or step. When the beaming gymnast finally thawed from her pose, she clapped her hands in a dusty cloud and let out a victorious, “WOOOO!”
After several grueling hours and making numerous attempts, Karolina Svoboda had finally nailed the Yurchenko vault; one of the most spectacular (if not dangerous) routines in gymnastics. She reveled at the feat, a new personal best―A performance so clean that it would’ve earned a perfect (or at least a near perfect) score from even the most demanding of judges.
Too bad no one else was there to see it.
Karolina looked around at all the rows of empty bleachers that surrounded her, and her satisfied grin morphed into a dejected frown. She threw her hands up in defeat and grumbled, “And zis is storrry of my life.”
With a huff, the athlete bent forward to gather her sweaty gym towels and warm-up clothes. As she made her way across the gymnasium floor, she reflected on why she was still here after her teammates had left for the break several hours before...
Competing at the top level of any sport is always difficult; Division-1 collegiate gymnastics being no exception. These ladies were considered the best of the best, and she’d seen many come and go in her time, whether from physical injuries, old age, or just cracking under pressure. There was all the weight purging and keeping yourself in prime physical shape, along with the constant need to win. As far as any social life went; forget it. You belonged to the team 24/7, and if you couldn’t hack it, you could be damn sure that you’d be replaced by the next up-and-coming thing that was younger and even hungrier than you.
At twenty-one years of age, Karolina Svoboda was considered “old and used up” in the gymnastics world. With retirement looming on the horizon, it wasn’t going to be easy to just walk away from a lifelong dream. Gymnastics was her existence; it’s what got her into the states and accepted into Glendale University...
When Karolina reached the door to the women’s locker room, she looked up at a motivational quote that someone had painted on the wall several decades ago:
Winners never quit, and quitters never win.
The gymnast placed a kiss on the tips of her fingers and touched them to the wall.
Karolina yanked the door open and went inside. She walked down the narrow corridor, making her way past the darkened windows of the coaching offices, and then into the women’s changing area beyond. As the gymnast dropped her pile down on the wooden bench, she mentally noted how eerie it seemed without the slamming of lockers and all the excited banter that usually filled the room. However, practicing at such late an hour had two distinct advantages; continuous use of the apparatus, and having the showers all to herself!
The foreigner smiled at the thought of such simple pleasures, and in her deep, satiny voice she cooed, “Zis is why I love Amerrrica.”
Karolina opened the door to her locker, reached up to her shoulders, and began to peel the skin-tight leotard from her sweaty body.
...Best part of zis uniforrrm is taking it off.
As the gymnast finished undressing, she thought about the upcoming break and the planned trip to Miami Beach with her friends. It would be their last major “outing” before graduation and everyone going off into the so-called “real world.”
Ugh, and zerrre's so much packing to do.
With a fresh towel draped over her neck and her trusty shower caddy in hand, Karolina shuffled over to the cube-like showering room. The weary gymnast set her tote down within arm’s reach, stepped up to one of the dozen showerheads and turned the knob. A sharp screech echoed off the tiled walls, and she held her hand beneath the water as she waited for it to run hot...
Once the steam began to rise, Karolina stepped beneath the hot shower and let it rain down on her aching form. She just stood there with eyes closed, her face tilted up into the driving pellets to wash away all of her worries. She felt the tension release from her body, and she breathed out a long sigh in relief...
After a while, Karolina reached for a washcloth and her coveted tube of Body Flavour; she squirted some of the creamy content into the middle of her palm and lathered it up with her hands. The gymnast then rubbed it all over her body, being sure to scrub every curve and crevice, as streams of soap bubbles formed and slid down her front side and back...
Mm... I just love zat citrrrus scent.
Once she was clean, Karolina retrieved a tube of shaving gel and a disposable razor from her tote. This might be her last chance to remove any traces of hair or stubble, and she wanted her skin to be silky-smooth for the upcoming trip. She always hated those unsightly tan lines that modest swimsuits left behind, so she’d purchased some very skimpy bikinis to ensure even more exposure...
Go out vith bang, no?
Karolina pressed the razor to one armpit and then the other. She eventually moved onto her toned legs and shaved them front and back, being careful not to nick herself anywhere.
The gymnast bowed her head and considered the tuft of hair that sprung-up in between her legs. She usually preferred to leave a little something there; to trim it up nice and neat and make it presentable. However, with the French-cut on some of the bikini bottoms she’d bought, it was just too much of a risk not to shave it all.
Off you go, she thought as she lathered up her pubes until the dark curls resembled a fluffy white Mohawk. Like before, she worked slowly and carefully as she dragged the razor over the sensitive skin of her mound. After a few upstrokes, she’d rinse the tangled mass of black hair from the blade and then started on another row. Once she was finished, the gymnast bent in two in order to inspect her own handiwork. She slid her fingers across the outer lips of her pussy and made sure they were completely smooth, before splaying them apart like a hotdog bun. Her clit stood up hard beneath its hood, just begging to be touched...
Hallo zerrre, and how arrre you?
Karolina straightened her back and then thrust her hips forward to let the pulsating water beat down on her exposed nub...
Ahh, now zis ...zis feels zo much better.
After several hours of grueling practice, this type of stimulation was exactly what Karolina needed, (and it wouldn’t be the first time). Softly, almost automatically, the young woman began to rub up and down on her overly sensitive sex. She always liked the feel of her bare pussy after a fresh shave, and as she continued to stroke herself in slow semi-circles, the rubbery smoothness only added to the pleasurable sensation. The gymnast began to grind her hips in time with the movement of her fingers, and she could feel her arousal build as it usually did whenever she had “play-time” in the shower. She bit her lower lip in response...
Karolina took the bead-like nub in between two of her fingers and pinched it; the ensuing jolt was electric, and she began rubbing herself in earnest; her fingers working even faster and rougher against her engorged clit. A single digit slipped into her pussy, smearing her gooey wetness and mixing it together with the soapy suds that had gathered there. The feeling turned her on even further, and it wasn’t going to be much longer before she got the release that she so badly craved...
Karolina’s head fell off to the side, and she softly whimpered in delight...
Now two fingers found had their way in, but they were no match for her triple-chrome-plated 10” dildo back in the dorm.
I knew I should’ve b-b-brrrought my little helper! Arrrghh!
The gymnast wondered what her teammates would think if they saw her now; envisioned them gathered in a circle, pointing and snickering as she rubbed herself to climax...
―That image alone was enough to set Karolina off, and her orgasm came swift and sharp; she threw her head back and cried out with a passionate “Ungh!” ...Her vision dimmed at the edges, and for a moment she felt a lightheaded. With stomach clenched, and with her groin mashed hard against her own hand, the gymnast rode out wave after wave of pleasure...
Karolina grasped one of her tits in desperation; she savagely twisted and pulled at her inflamed nipple to the point where she was in blinding pain. She had every intention of drawing this finger-fuck out for as long as she could...
“Oh―god―da! Uggh! Oh, oh, ohhhhhh!”
Yet another shudder ripped through Karolina’s body, and she drew in a sharp breath as her hips involuntarily bucked back and forth, her body giving tiny convulsions as she found her release...
“Uggh...Uh ... Um... Mmm... Mmmmm...”
Unfortunately, such intense pleasure only lasts for a few blissful seconds, and as Karolina’s orgasm slowly ebbed, her hips gradually ground to a halt. The gymnast leaned one hand against the wall to support herself as she attempted to catch her breath... Even giggled at her sudden fatigue...
“Oh... vow,” she gasped out, “zat one left me veak in knees!”
Every now and then, an aftershock shook Karolina’s body, and her pussy would twitch involuntarily. Such aftereffects were to be expected...
If not welcome.
“Phew! ... Vhat a vorrrkout!”
Karolina rose in place beneath the showerhead, lips parted, her breathing still a little labored. With eyes closed, she allowed the hot torrent to rinse away the gooey aftermath of her own release. Still caught-up in the mellow afterglow of self-sex, the gymnast failed to realize that she wasn’t alone...
* * * *
He couldn’t believe his luck.
She stood with her back to him, stark naked and with legs slightly parted, her head turned up towards the overhead nozzle. He didn’t need to see her face to identify who it was...
Karolina Svoboda: 4th in the US Classic; 2nd in the National Championships; NCAA ranked at #5 in all-around, balance beam, parallel bars, and vault. Voted “most team spirit” three consecutive years...
The senior’s list of accomplishments was as long as it was impressive. But like most aging gymnasts, she’d dealt with her share of sports-related injuries over the last year. Certain members of the administration felt that Karolina was past her prime, but lucky for him; they had a very unique way of paying their “last respects” to a fading champion...
His predatory eyes followed the long stream of wet hair as it pressed to her glistening back, drifted down to her firm buttocks, and then even lower to her powerful thighs and taut calves. The sight of this beauty standing naked beneath the water was incredibly erotic, and she was undoubtedly at her most vulnerable...
His hands shook and his heart thumped away in his chest. A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek, and he quietly wiped it away with the back of his hand...
Karolina slowly rotated around to rinse off her back and allowed him a full frontal view. Her freshly-shaved pussy looked so smooth, so bare and so shamelessly exposed. And yet she just stood there, as if to savor the feel of the hot water as it beat down against her bare skin. The athlete’s pretty face was soft and open and held a look of deep contentment...
His tired old cock suddenly hopped in anticipation.
God, help me.
Her secret admirer crept out stealthily from behind the wall, his tented track pants leading the way. He crossed the threshold from the dressing area and stepped onto the shower floor itself, but the rubber sole of his sneaker emitted a loud squeak from the wet tiles...
Karolina’s eyes snapped open and a sharp yelp escaped from her lips; her mentor―Coach Walker―was standing right there in the doorway!
And he had one of those creepy smirks plastered across his face.
“There you are,” he said in an unusually calm voice, “Thought I was hearin’ things.”
“Forrr fuck’s sake!” Karolina gasped as she frantically reached for a towel to cover herself up. “Do you mind?”
“I don’t, actually...”
The gymnast quickly wrapped the towel around her body, tucked in the loose end against her bosom, and then turned to shut the water off. She swung back around and crossed her arms over her chest in an accusatory way.
“What arrre you doing in herrre?”
“I should ask the same of you,” her coach replied. “Ya know it’s against the rules to be vaulting without a spotter.”
Coach Walker might have been speaking to Karolina, but his eyes were still roaming over her towel-covered body, as if he possessed some sort of x-ray vision, and the sight of her nakedness was still branded into his memory...
“You can’t just go in vomen’s shover like zis!”
The man reached into the pocket of his windbreaker; he pulled out a large ring of keys and shook them around in the air. “Got all the permission I need right here,” he said before slipping them back inside the pocket.
“GET OUT!” Karolina hissed.
“I think it’s time for your final performance. But before we start, I need to show ya somethin...”
That’s when the coach tugged on a leather strap that hung around his thick neck. An old camera swung around from behind his shoulder; Karolina could tell that it was outdated by its clunky size and the ridiculous flashbulb mounted on top. He pulled a lever back with his thumb, and the device made a whining noise, as if it were slowly powering itself up...
Karolina felt even more uneasy about his presence than before...
“GET OUT ORRR I SCREAM!”
“I suppose you could, but no one will hear you,” the man assured.
Coach Walker drew some sort of protective eyewear down over his head. He wiggled the goggles in place a few times to adjust them to his face, and then he raised the camera in her direction...
Vhat the fuck is he do―?
—An intense burst of light flashed before Karolina’s eyes, and then— nothing. Her very last thought vaporized in an instant!
The gymnast stood frozen as a statue; her pretty face bore an odd mixture of anger and bewilderment as she stared through her betrayer.
Coach Walker lowered the camera and a sly grin spread across his lined face...
Gets ‘em every time.
The man stepped outside of the showering room and placed the camera down out of harm’s way. He returned to the scene of the crime a moment later, eager to inspect the results...
Karolina remained just as he’d left her; standing there in her cotton bath towel with her arms crossed over her chest. Even as he approached, her glassy eyes remained locked on where he’d been standing earlier when he suspended her with the flash unit...
Coach Walker had seen all types of bodies in his thirty years of coaching: training the women’s soccer team; a few seasons worth of softball; a couple more with the track team, and then of course there was his favorite― women’s gymnastics. He took a lot of pride in forging his player’s bodies into the most physically fit tools they could be, and he never accepted the words “I can’t.”
The coach was always there for his girls, often helping them with stretches and spotting them during their practice routines. Walker would occasionally give his girls an extra assist when mounting the equipment, often brushing his hands across their solid little asses, or gripping them around their narrow waists and flat stomachs. The gymnasts never seemed to notice his attention, being entirely focused on their performance instead...
The fifty-five-year-old always liked the physique of the competitive gymnast, from the thin and muscular builds, to the way their glistening spandex leotards stretched across their firm bodies. Bodies like that of the young woman that stood right before him...
“Ah, my Karolina; how you’ve matured since you first came to me; you were so young and naďve, yet eager to prove yourself. And now that girl has blossomed into a beautiful woman; so desirable... so ready to be taken...”
Coach Walker reached forward and gripped the gymnast’s elbow and wrist within each of his meaty hands. The man slowly drew her forearm away from her chest and lowered it down to her right side. Karolina was his life-sized Barbie now, and she held her new position just like any poseable doll would. Walker then stepped to the gymnast’s right and repeated the process, placing her other arm down to her side. He was standing so close to her now that he could smell the scent of her citrus-scented body wash...
“That’s better... Now let me have a better look at ya...”
The man dipped his sausage-like fingers in between the soft flesh of Karolina’s tit and her bath towel. He unfastened the fold; watched with growing anticipation as the towel slowly unraveled itself and fell to her feet...
The instructor even took a step back so he could take in her naked form at arm’s length...
Coach Walker then circled around his player and studied her build with a judgmental eye. Karolina Svoboda wasn’t going to qualify under anyone’s definition of willowy or svelte, but she certainly possessed a remarkable physique: flexible, toned, and for a lack of a better word― durable. The gymnast’s high, round buttocks curved out nicely from the small of her back, and her legs looked as powerful and well-defined as those of a ballroom dancer. As Walker continued his evaluation, his gaze swept over the indent of the female’s waist, the slight flare of her hip, and the sharp rise of her bosom. Despite being average in size, Karolina’s breasts were pert and had a bouncy vigor to them whenever she walked. Each fleshy orb featured a bumpy areola with an aroused nipple that stood out from its center...
Come to poppa.
Albert grasped a tit within each of his meaty hands and kneaded the soft flesh, molding them around into different shapes and even squishing them flat beneath his palms. Using his thumbs and forefingers, he pinched her nipples and gave them a good tug, before twisting them back and forth like radio knobs. He finally lowered his head, squeezed one breast into a pointy cone, and then drew a swollen areola into his hungry mouth. He swirled his tongue around in circles, sucked down hard, and then released the reddened sprout with an audible “pop!” Albert redirected his attention to her other tit and repeated his actions there: tugging, squeezing, and sucking away. The more aggressive he got, the more Karolina swayed on her feet, and before he knew it; the poor thing was in danger of tipping over. Luckily, the coach was just quick enough to grab hold of her waist to prevent her from doing so...
“Whoa― easy, EASY!” the coach warned as he carefully steadied her back in place.
Karolina wobbled to a stop, seemingly unaffected by the near mishap; she gazed beyond her mentor’s shoulder with a puzzled air on her face.
Coach Walker took a step back and shamelessly confessed, “Ya’ got me hard as a rock, honey! ―Now it’s go time!”
In truth; the little blue pill that Albert had taken just a short time ago probably had a lot more to do with it, but Karolina would be none the wiser...
The man fumbled around with the drawstring on his sweatpants, feverishly shoved them down to his ankles, and then twisted and tugged as he tried to pull his size twelve joggers through each of the elastic leg holes...
The coach grew increasingly desperate; he leaned up against a wall for better balance and managed to yank the troublesome material off both of his feet. “Damned things!” he grumbled as he angrily threw the sweats across the room. His boxers, windbreaker and staff polo soon followed, and before long he stood there in just his tube socks, sneaks, and whistle... Aint like anyone will ever know- heh!
Albert’s pecker bounced around like a rubber dildo as he stepped in front of his player and placed his hands squarely on her shoulders...
“Alright, sweetheart; down on yer knees... Time to show me some gratitude with that pretty mouth of yours...”
It would take a bit of work, but this wasn’t Albert Walker’s first rodeo; he’d posed a few gals over the years, (even stuffed a couple into footlockers and narrow suitcases). The man put those prior skills to use; he carefully manipulated Karolina’s arms and legs so that she kneeled before him in a submissive position. His eyes skimmed over her luscious body as he rose to his feet...
With fingers splayed across her thighs, the gymnast stared blindly ahead at the hairy sack that dangled mere inches from her face...
Hmm, lessee here.
The coach overturned his hand; he placed the pads of his fingers beneath the tip of Karolina’s chin and slowly tilted her head upward. He stuck two fingers in his student’s mouth, pried her jaw downward, and then squeezed her cheeks inward so that her lips took on a more suitable “O” shape.
That’s more like it.
In her new position, the gymnast gazed up at him wide-eyed and with mouth agape; she looked like she’d just seen a ghost...
Walker regarded Karolina’s open mouth; her pristine teeth were a healthy white, and he’d fantasized about those pouty lips for what seemed like an eternity. As he cupped her beautiful face within the palms of his hands, he was certain that he’d never held (nor seen) someone so beautiful in all his life. It was almost enough to make him want to blow his wad right then and there.
“Okay, darlin’; say ah and watch the teeth...”
The coach eased his cock past Karolina’s lips, and as the wet warmth of her mouth slowly enveloped his girth, he gasped out an, “Oh, fuck!” The more he pushed in, the further the young woman’s jaw expanded to allow better access to the back of her throat. With her neck craned so far back, the seasoned gymnast looked more like a sword-swallower from the traveling circus...
“Take it in, kiddo... take it all the way down.”
Albert moved slowly at first; he worked his hips back and forth in a steady humping motion, but Karolina’s head inched further back with every forward stroke. Looks like you need a little direction, he thought. That’s when he grabbed two fistfuls of hair at the sides of her head, and started pumping more aggressively into her face. Before long, sloppy-wet stroking noises started emanating from the gymnast’s mouth as he continually rammed his leaky shaft down her throat.
“Atta girl,” he said in a gruff voice, “glad to see ya’ brought yer appetite.”
Karolina offered no reply; her dark eyes continued to stare upward, ever watchful, but unseeing...
Walker kept pulling her head back and forth; he was thrusting so deeply that the imprint of his shaft was visibly moving against the wall of her throat. Being suspended, Karolina didn’t have any gag reflex, and he preferred it that way...
“Yeah, that’s it; take it nice and deep, honey!”
Coach Walker’s veiny sack bounced against the gymnast’s chin with every plunge, and he could already feel a tingling sensation building within. The man knew he was going to have to pace himself or he’d lose it way too soon. With one swift yank, he jerked his player’s head back, and his engorged penis bobbled out of her yawning mouth. Walker looked down at her vacant face as several strings of pre-cum stretched from the tip of his cock to her glistening lips...
“Hold that thought,” the coach instructed. The man reached forward, brushed an errant lock of hair away from her unseeing eyes and went on to praise, “I bet yer a hit with all those frat boys, aren’t ya’...”
Karolina remained on her knees, head tilted back on her neck, her lips still conveniently shaped in an O. She stared up in stony silence, a shiny blend of her own saliva and her mentor’s bodily excretions clearly showing on and around her gaping oral cavity...
Her coach dipped the tip of his cock into the slimy mixture and dragged it around her face to further stress his point.
“Such a dirty girl,” he growled. “How ‘bout we get ya’ down on all fours so you can show me that cunny...”
Coach Walker placed himself in a Heimlich maneuver position and wrapped his arms around Karolina’s body; he rotated her around 180⁰ so that she was facing the wall, before setting her back down on her knees. Still hunched over her back, Albert bent the gymnast over at the waist and braced both of her arms against the shower floor. He grabbed each of her thighs and spread them further apart for easier access...
Albert sat back on his haunches for a moment and checked the pose. Hmm; that ass could use a little more uplift to it... He bent forward again, this time pressing down on the middle of Karolina’s back to give it more of an arch. The coach carefully turned her head to the side and rearranged both of her arms so that she could lay flat on the floor. This new “chest down / ass up” positioning caused her freshly-shaved pussy to thrust back and outward...
“Just look at that,” the coach observed as he leaned in closer to her bent posterior. He grabbed hold of one of her ass cheeks, gave it a possessive shake and proclaimed, “...It’s all mine, too!”
Albert waggled his bushy eyebrows around as he reached in between the gymnast’s legs; he drew the tips of his fingers across her rubbery folds and enjoyed the petal-soft feel of her freshly denuded pussy. After a while, he reduced his digits from four down to one; he inserted that middle-most appendage inside his student and savored in the feel of her silky warmth as she “let him in.” Karolina emitted squishy noises as he slowly finger-fucked her moist snatch...
“Nice ‘n wet too,” the man snarled, “like a wildflower in bloom, offering up her sweet nectar to any passing bee...”
In time, Coach Walker reshaped his hand into the form of a finger-pistol and brought a second digit into the mix; he carefully reentered his player and pushed his way deeper inside until his hand was buried to the second knuckle. Albert worked his two fingers back and forth like a hacksaw, gradually building-up speed until Karolina’s pussy emitted a steady “squich─squich─squich” sound. Once it reached a fevered pitch, the coach jerked his hand back and raised it to his nose to inhale her musky scent...
“Mm-mmm,” the man muttered lustily before inserting both fingers into his mouth. He licked them clean, closed his eyes and then smacked his lips as if to savor her flavor...
Karolina remained in a fully accessible position before him; ass-up and head down, side-boobage squished out beneath her armpits, her long wet hair partially matted to her back and slowly spreading out in the shallow pool of water below.
The coach placed a hand on the floor alongside his player’s knee, leaned over her backside and went on to inform, “Time for the main course, sweetheart...”
Once again, Albert lowered himself directly behind the gymnast; he pinched at the outer folds of her pussy lips and stretched them away from one another until her inner-most pinkness was fully exposed. Working in a human centipede position, he buried his face into her backside and lapped at her tender walls, eventually tonguing his way so deeply that his nose was completely crushed into her perineum. (It wasn’t until he felt the need to come up for air that he finally withdrew). As Albert waited to catch his breath, he dipped the pads of his thumbs into his player’s crack and pried her cheeks apart. He brushed the tips of his fingers over her wrinkled opening and a devious smile slowly spread across his face...
“So,” the coach began, as he crossed his forearms over the twin globes of Karolina’s butt. He casually propped his head up on one elbow and continued, “...you had anal yet?”
Karolina remained silent, still as a statue, her head turned off to the side. The gymnast’s eyes stared across the wet floor with glassy indifference... The positioning of her head and body, coupled with her absolute silence seemed to imply; let’s get on with it already.
...And that was just the sign that her mentor needed. Coach Walker followed the path of Karolina’s staring eyes, which led him to a tube of body wash placed inside her shower caddy. He reached over to retrieve the orange and white dispenser, turned it over, and then recited the blurb on the back:
“Body Flavour is a non-toxic, citrus-scented body wash. A rich blend of Marula and Mongongo oils helps soften and protect even the most sensitive areas of your skin.”
The coach squeezed a liberal amount of the creamy-white substance into his cupped palm and gave it a whiff; it had a sweet citrusy scent to it, like that of freshly cut lemons and oranges. He shrugged his shoulders with indifference and stroked the slippery goo up and down the length of his shaft...
Once he was finished “prepping” himself, Albert spread Karolina’s buttocks apart and squeezed another generous blob onto her nether region...
“Alright, sweetheart,” the man addressed as he worked the slick substance up and down her crack, “try to relax yourself and just go with it; it’ll be more pleasurable for the both of us... Well, surely for me, anyway, heh-heh!”
Albert flashed a sly grin and tossed the empty tube aside. He held Karolina’s cheek back with one hand, stroked his member a few times with the other, and then placed the bulbous tip against her puckered ring. The gymnast was completely resistant at first, but the more he pushed himself forward, the more his player seemed to “loosen up” to him.
“That’s it, darlin’... just let it happen...”
The gymnast unwittingly obliged; she didn’t even flinch as he breached her point of entry and forced himself further inward. Her trusted mentor closed his eyes and expelled a long appreciative sigh...
The twenty-one-year-olds inner sphincter had a noticeably drier heat to it, (the only moisture being provided was from Albert’s own pre-cum and the liberal amount of lube he’d applied earlier). But the deeper in he went; the more he wanted to claim her rump for his own. He grabbed Karolina by the hips and used her own body to steer her in any direction he desired. The gymnast rocked back and forth with him, the meat of her ass rippling against the steady pounding motion of his hips and thighs.
“Feels good, huh?”
Karolina’s lips were open, but no sound came from her mouth. The only noise that could be heard was the sound of skin slapping against skin, along with the throaty grunts her partner made as he pounded her marvelous behind.
Goddamn, this one’s tight!
Unfortunately for him; Karolina’s facedown doggy stance was putting a major strain on his knees and lower back. It was with much reluctance that Albert withdrew from the cozy grip of his student’s sphincter in order to change positions...
“Sorry, hon; we need to get ya’ back up on yer feet again!”
Coach Walker clamped his large hands around Karolina’s waist, and utilizing all of his upper body strength, he carefully drew her up from the floor into a “standing doggy” position. Albert reached around and pulled back on the front of the young woman’s kneecaps, effectively locking them in place like the legs on a card table. Finally, he pulled both of her arms straight behind her back in order to “steer her” like a wheelbarrow. This new arrangement offered better balance, as well as deeper penetration with much harder thrusts.
“Okay,” the man huffed, “...back to business!”
Coach Walker tightened his grip around the gymnast’s wrists, and with a guttural moan, he re-entered her in one powerful thrust. Fully submerged within her snug heat, Albert began to plow her tenderized chute even harder than before. Karolina rocked on her feet before him, her long damp hair swaying back and forth from the sides of her head with every slap of his balls...
“You got all of me inside you now!” her coach crowed from behind.
Slap... Slap... Slap... Slap... Slap... Slap...
Karolina just stared off in utter silence, lips parted; her pretty little head bobbled around on her neck like a dashboard hula girl.
As Albert built up speed, his long, languid strokes quickly transitioned into a series of sharp and violent jabs. Each one created an exquisite friction that made his breath catch and his gut tighten. The volume and frequency of his moans grew, as did the sloppy-wet smacking noises...
The hot friction was practically unbearable, and so was the suction of Karolina’s asshole, which seemed perpetually locked around Albert’s cock and unwilling to let go. The fevered pace and all the pent-up pressure made him dizzy on his feet, yet he pumped faster and faster like a wild animal in heat.
“I’m gonna cum now, baby,” he gasped, “...Gonna cum so hard that I’ll fill ya’ to the brim!”
Karolina’s entire body shook from the violent thrusts, but her coach’s warning fell on deaf ears...
Walker continued slamming into her ass like man possessed, huffing and puffing until he groaned out, “Uh! ―Unh, Shit!!!”
Albert rose up on the balls of his feet and he brought Karolina up with him; dazzling spots of black and white filled his vision as the rapture consumed him― his back arched, then he too, went stiff as a post! He came in a silent yell, but his load was hot and heavy as it shot deep inside his frozen partner.
Karolina took it all in without batting an eyelash...
The pair remained interlocked in that precarious position; the gymnast bent over at the waist like a good little submissive, the muscular walls of her chute still clenched around her coach’s member. Albert stood behind her with head thrown back; he was still hard inside his player’s immobilized body; his own body twitched and jerked from the subsequent aftershocks...
Albert’s voice sounded husky when he’d said it, and it took a long moment for his muscles to relax and the tremors to fade away. Feeling completely spent, he lowered his head to his chest and then opened his eyes to a blurry scene. As his vision cleared, the coach was met with a disturbing sight; he still held the athlete’s wrists within his powerful grip, and he’d been so caught up in the passionate exchange that he’d cut off her circulation; Karolina’s hands had turned a ghastly yellow.
Christ, I hope I didn’t leave any bruises.
Using the little strength he had left, Coach Walker lowered Karolina’s feet to the floor. He took the time to massage her skin, waited for the blood to flow through her veins and the color to return to her hands. Once satisfied, he regrettably withdrew his cock from the athlete’s inactive body. Albert watched in glorious satisfaction as his seed bubbled out of her orifice and then oozed down her beautiful crack. With his dick still in hand, Albert squeezed out the last drop of cum he had left and wiped it across the humps of his player’s ass...
Karolina just wobbled in place as it was all she could do.
“Hope it was as good for you as it was for me," Albert said to her turned back.
The gymnast was in no condition to think otherwise.
Albert sighed as he looked at the wet floor below; his clothes were strewn everywhere, and some had found puddles and flattened to the floor. The coach picked up his boxers, wrung them out, and then navigated his right foot through one of the leg holes. As he aimed his left foot through the second hole, he thought of how eager he’d been to get them off in the first place.
When opportunity knocks―
The man’s thoughts were interrupted by what sounded like a door closing in the distance. His ears perked up like a Doberman Pincher’s, and he followed their footsteps carefully. There was no mistaking the sound; a pair of block-heeled pumps click-clacked against the locker-room floor and they were headed his way...
“Hell-ooo; ...is somebody in here?”
Albert scrambled for his sweats; he frantically shoved a sneak down through the first pant leg, but the second would prove to be far more difficult. He hopped in place, wrenched at the cotton material with all his might as the sounds of tak―tak―tak―tak grew louder and nearer.
“Karolina, is that you?”
Mother humper! ...Albert yanked on the pant leg with fiery desperation; the elastic finally gave, and his second foot shot through the opening without a second to spare. The coach pulled his pants up to his waist just as someone appeared in the doorframe.
“Yoo-hoo? ... Are you halfway decen― ALBERT?”
Mrs. Kessler froze in her tracks; she glanced at the coach and then her eyes immediately dropped to the naked posterior just beside him. Her eyes darted back to the noticeable bulge in the front of Albert’s sweats, and her surprised expression turned to that of utter disbelief.
“Oh my God.”
“Now wait a minute...”
“Please tell me you didn’t!”
“Well I did,” the man openly confessed, “...sorry.”
“How could you!”
“Because she was in the right place at the right time,” Albert reasoned as he reached down for his staff polo. The coach snapped it out in the air a few times, and as he pulled the shirt down over his aging body, he thought to add, “...That, and the fact she wouldn’t have the slightest clue afterward...”
“But right here in the women’s showers?” the advisor questioned angrily. “And what if someone just happened to walk in?”
“Well you just did, and it looks like we all managed to survive, so...”
Albert smiled and casually adjusted his collar with all the swagger of James Bond himself.
Mrs. Kessler narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest in exasperation.
“You are fully aware of what we’re involved with here, correct?”
“Absolutely,” Albert assured. “I also remember the four long years I spent taping-up Karolina’s ankles; the countless number of times I helped her out with stretches; spotted her on the balance beam; the uneven bars, and the vault. To have her so close to me and not be able to do anything about it was practically unbearable... So to me; she’s well worth the risk.”
As much as Albert Walker pissed her off, the man did make a valid point; if there was one staff member that could take credit for much of Karolina’s success― it was him. The advisor thought of a fitting quote she’d once heard; ...It’s not the hours you put in your work that counts, it’s the work you put in the hours.
“...Well that may be so, but there’s also a time and a place for such activities, and it is NOT in the women’s locker-room!”
The coach just shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t give a damn.
Mrs. Kessler shot him a biting side glance as she approached the other woman. She loomed over Karolina’s static form, took in her attractive lines and toned body with a proficient eye. The dimpled bend of the gymnast’s lower back flowed up gracefully into the sharp rise of her delectable buttocks, which arched out in the air like a tanned question mark. Said ass then tapered down into some of the nicest gams she’d ever seen... the type of legs that men liked to have wrapped around their backs.
Or maybe the right woman, Kessler thought to herself.
The advisor wondered about the unusual arrangement of the student’s arms and went on to inquire, “Is that the prison guard from the Kama Sutra?”
“It is; I found it much easier to control her movement that way.”
“Interesting,” the advisor remarked, her sour mood seeming to lighten up a bit. “I remember when I was that flexible.”
“Anyone is flexible―in any position and at any age; especially if your body isn’t capable of cramping up or feeling any pain.”
“This is true,” Kessler admitted. The advisor gently brushed the back of her hand over the younger woman’s cheek, took pleasure in the smooth feel of her unblemished skin. Her thumb found the corner of the gymnast’s mouth, allowed it to trace the shape of her lips with aching tenderness. All the while Karolina seemed completely unaware of her actions (or even her presence for that matter) which only turned her on even more...
Albert watched her actions with a knowing smirk. Despite her irritable demeanor, the forty one-year-old Kessler was no slouch herself; her milky-white skin was further highlighted by her white-streaked jet-black hair and piercing dark eyes. The counselor wore a seemingly endless supply of fitted blazers and clingy tube skirts (a number of which were dangerously short by academic standards).
“I remember when Karolina first appeared on our radar,” the counselor recalled with a touch of melancholy in her voice. “She’d been in the states for less than a year, and we recruited her straight out of high school. She was young, hardheaded, and lacked any finesse...”
“A real diamond in the rough,” the coach added with a chuckle.
“True, but you were persistent with her; made her better and stronger than she ever hoped to be; watched her wondrous transformation from a lowly caterpillar to a graceful butterfly.”
“I did,” Albert recalled with pride.
Mrs. Kessler began to circle around Karolina’s form; her movements slow and cat-like, the hollow click of her heels a sharp contrast to the gymnast’s utter silence. The advisor’s eyes swept over the younger woman’s trim curves, her thoughtful gaze drawn to the twenty-one-year-olds average-sized breasts. They sprung out from the athlete’s chest like perky fruit just waiting to be picked, the pink nipples all swollen and distended as if begging for her mouth. She let her hand drop, scraped her blood red nails over one of the swells... It would be so easy to just lower herself to her knees and suckle―
Kessler snatched her hand back as if she’d touched a hot stove. She cleared her throat and tried to compose herself...
Albert watched with amusement.
“My husband offered her an assistant coaching position upon graduation,” the advisor revealed. “Unfortunately, she wasn’t interested; claimed that she needed to spread her wings and start anew.”
“I know,” the coach replied, “It’d be shame if she were to side with the competition.”
“...But that won’t be a problem now.”
“It won’t,” Albert assured.
The coach looked up at Kessler; his blue eyes glittered at her conspiratorially.
“We can still have our fun with her beforehand; you know how strong the temptation can be when their suspended like this...”
“A strong temptation indeed,” the counselor admitted.
“...And nobody has to know we even have her―yet,” the coach added. “I could deliver her tomorrow, and Otto would be none-the-wiser.”
“She is very pretty,” the woman declared as her hand followed the sweeping dip of Karolina’s back. “It would be a shame to let all of this go to waste.”
“She’s completely malleable too,” Albert reminded, “...she won’t be once she’s put on ice.”
Mrs. Kessler seemed to fall into a daze as her hand swept over the taught curves of Karolina’s backside. She didn’t stop there. The counselor dared to explore even further; she slipped her hand in between the gymnast’s legs, where her digits played with the rubbery folds underneath... Found the hardened ball of her clit and lingered there for a while, rolling it around with the tip of her finger. It wasn’t until she drew her fingers back upward that they slipped on something wet and tacky. She withdrew her hand from the other woman’s ass crack, raised it up, and made a disgusted face when the gooey substance caused her index finger and thumb to stick together...
The advisor looked up at her co-conspirator; she clenched her teeth and glared at him with fire in her eyes.
...Coach Walker dove into the pocket of his windbreaker; he withdrew a handkerchief, snapped it out in the air a few times and quickly offered it to Kessler.
“Heh... sorry ‘bout that.”
“Oh, for god sakes, Albert!” the woman yelled as she angrily snatched the hanky from his hand. The advisor forcefully rubbed the thin fabric over her opened palm, made extra sure to get down in between the webbing of all of her fingers. Once finished, she abruptly threw it back in his face. “Now clean her up and get her down to the lab!”
“But what abou―”
“CLEAN HER UP AND GET HER DOWN TO THE LAB!” a furious Kessler repeated. “I’ll be done making my rounds in less than twenty minutes and she better be there!”
With a dramatic flip of her hair, the advisor spun around on a heel and stormed out of the women’s showers...
Albert waited for the locker room door to slam before he turned back to Karolina.
“So that went pretty well.”
The gymnast didn’t offer a response...
“Well, you heard the lady,” Albert remarked as he picked Karolina up by the waist, “Gotta clean ya up before I deliver ya to your new resting place...”
With his player in hand, the coach sidestepped around 180⁰ so that her hind-end faced the showerhead. The man rubbed his student’s shoulder and added, “...And don’t worry about getting lonely; you’ll have plenty of company.”
The knob twisted with a loud squeak, and water burst forth from the showerhead, powerful and steaming hot. Karolina just stood there, unmoving, as the hot water pelted her bent posterior. The water was nearly burning her naked bits, but the athlete didn’t seem to notice; she just held her forward stance as her mentor lathered-up the sponge beside her...
Karolina’s unbroken silence spoke to him; her voice wordlessly encouraged, yes; do me!
Albert went straight to work; he soaped Karolina up and cleaned her thoroughly and meticulously, running the sponge over every inch of her water-slicked torso. Walker spent a considerable amount of time on his player’s undercarriage, rubbing the bath sponge up and down her crack and working it into every little nook and cranny. The coach’s face held a look of contentment as he did this; his filthy mind memorizing every curve of her body so that he could relive this special moment over and over for many years to come.
The sight of Karolina’s shaved pussy was more than enough to send Albert’s senses reeling allover again, and he ditched the sponge in favor of his bare hands...
Goddamn you’re hot!
The coach’s big, soapy hands stroked Karolina’s buttocks, his sausage-like fingers slipping and sliding all over her cheeks and inner thighs. Before long, they’d found their way into her pussy again, and two of his digits began to piston in and out:
“Ya like that huh?” Albert asked with a twitchy, shit-eating grin. “Yeah, I bet ya do, ya little minx!”
The coach became so engrossed with finger-banging his beloved player, that time quickly got away from him; before he knew it, thirty minutes had passed...
When the PA speaker crackled to life in the locker room adjacent, Albert already knew who it was going to be; Bebe Kessler’s voice spoke out in a calm, yet authoritative manner:
“May I have your attention, please: would Albert Irving Walker; report to my office― immediately!”
The announcement ended with a forceful slam of the receiver.
During his fifty-five years in existence, Albert Walker knew there were three things certain in life: death taxes and never disagree with the boss’s wife. Bebe Kessler was a woman who rarely (if ever) heard the word no.
The coach muttered a few more curse words underneath his breath. With much reluctance, he reached over and turned the water off.
“Don’t move!” the man ordered, and Karolina obeyed.
Coach Walker disappeared into the locker room for a moment; he reappeared less than a minute later, pushing a laundry hamper on wheels. He rolled it right into the shower room and parked it alongside his awaiting student...
Albert bent forward and braced his shoulder up against Karolina’s stomach; with a strained “Upsy-daisy” he hefted the young woman up off her feet and onto his shoulder. He bowed the gymnast so that she drooped over his back like a sack of grain, her damp and tangled locks dangling down from around her pretty little head. As the coach rotated around to face the hamper, he gave his student’s ass a hearty SMACK! “In you go” he said as he lowered her frozen form into the canvas basket below.
Albert put his posing skills to work once again by rearranging Karolina’s limbs for a more “proper” fit. By the time he was finished, the naked gymnast was placed in a fetal position, with her body curled and her hands and legs pressed tightly together.
Snug as a bug, the coach mused as he stood upright. He rubbed his chin in thought as he looked around the shower room... Hmm; ―oh right!
Albert grabbed Karolina’s shower tote and sponge and dropped them inside. He pushed the hamper over to the locker area and removed everything the gymnast would usually take home for the evening, including her street clothes; joggers; purse and most importantly― her iPhone. The coach moved the cart over to one of the towel stations, grabbed a fresh stack of bath towels, and scattered them around inside the basket for additional concealment.
Albert made a beeline toward the exit door. The coach poked his head out the door, and his heartbeat raced as he looked up and down the hallway for potential witnesses. Luckily for him; the school was practically empty at this late an hour.
Moving at a brisk pace, Albert pushed the squeaky hamper down the hall until he came upon another door labeled ‘Janitorial Supplies’ ...He looked around again with caution and withdrew a large key ring from the inner pocket of his windbreaker.
“Come on, come on!” the man grumbled to himself as he frantically flipped through the assortment of keys.
Albert finally located the one labeled “janitor” and quickly unlocked the door. The room beyond was pitch-black, but he already knew to look up for the bulb that would be hanging from a chain. The coach tugged on the string and light suddenly illuminated the space. He reached for the hamper and pulled his precious cargo inside...
Albert closed the door, made sure to relock it, and then turned around and considered his surroundings. The area inside looked like your typical custodial room: a bucket and mop; a fiberglass sink; a commercial floor buffer; some pegboard covered with tools; utility shelves lined with cleaning supplies...
But he wasn’t here to do any windows.
Albert made his way over to the far wall where one of those metal shelves stood. He yanked on one of the corner posts, the force violent enough to send jugs of bleach and rolls of paper towels tumbling to the floor. Pulling the shelving unit all the way back revealed a hidden entry that was painted to match the concrete walls around it. The reinforced door looked heavy and solid, and one could tell it was old just by the steel rivets and the large keyhole. The coach withdrew his metal ring once again, this time selecting an old barrel-style key that looked like it belonged to a jail cell. He inserted the key into the hole, turned it to the right, and then pulled the weighty door back on its hinges...
The door made a loud creak in distress as Albert exposed its well-kept secret...
Beyond the sturdy doorframe was a hidden tunnel; the cavernous space was broad across the bottom and circular at the top, its walls made of cobblestone. Little industrial lamps in metal cages provided the minimal light.
Albert pulled the hamper inside the dimly-lit passageway and then pushed back on the heavy door with both hands. The door closed with a resounding thud and he locked it with a definitive click.
“Hang tight,” the coach warned as he pushed his cargo forward, “got some rough road ahead.”
His warning fell on deaf ears, of course; poor Karolina lay immobile in the bottom of the basket without making a sound. Albert pictured her naked form being jostled about whenever he hit a bump, her glassy eyes staring blindly into the canvas material.
The long corridor stretched well ahead, (even beyond Albert’s own line of sight). Occasionally his path was intersected by other passages that crisscrossed beneath the campus grounds. These tunnels were initially built for maintenance purposes, allowing workers to easily travel from one building to the next for quick repairs.
The Pygmalion’s used it for other reasons...
The sporadic squeaks of Albert’s white converse, (coupled with the steady creaking noise coming from the hamper wheels) bounced off the cobblestone walls and echoed down through the passage. Though unnerving at times, it was a sound that he’d grown accustomed to over the years...
The coach came to another intersection. He paused in place, furrowed an eyebrow, and then scratched his chin in indecision...
He couldn’t remember if it was four tunnels and a right, or four tunnels and a left.
Albert gave the cart a push and turned left, hoping like hell he’d made the right decision...
* * * *
In another section of the tunnels some ten minutes away...
An ancient door creaked open on its barn-like hinges, and a sliver of fluorescent light slowly expanded out over the pathway below. A tall, almost skeletal-like figure with sunken cheeks stepped outside...
Doctor Otto Von Schultz looked up and down the dimly-lit corridor and listened closely to his surroundings. Seeing that the coast was clear, he reached for the inner pocket of his white lab coat and retrieved his trusty timepiece.
This was no ordinary pocket watch; it was a prized chronograph handed down from his late father, a decorated pilot who flew with the Luftwaffe in WWII. Those were glorious days for mother Germany, well before the Fuehrer’s suicide and the fall of the Third Reich.
The doctor noted the time, pushed the side of his thumb back against the clamshell cover, and it closed with a decisive click. He looked down at the instrument with a sense of melancholy and took a moment to admire its handsome design. The timepiece was manufactured in an era when things were built to last, and German engineering was superior to all. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the iconic coat of arms―a flying eagle with claws that someone had painstakingly engraved into the polished steel.
...Lang lebe Deutschland.
Schultz dipped a liver-spotted hand into his pocket once again, exchanged the prized chronometer for a pack of unfiltered cigarettes. The doctor pounded the container against his opened palm, ejected a cigarette and inserted it between his lips. He raised a lighter, lit one end, and then drew in a lungful of smoke. There was another decisive click as the lighter closed, and he tilted his head back against the rough cobblestone. The man considered what lay ahead and blew a long trail of smoke out into the air...
It was going to be another long night in the lab, (that much was certain), but that part was irrelevant; another project was on its way, (much sooner than expected) and time was of the essence. The doctor already made all the usual preparations and now all he could do is wait for her arrival.
Schultz stared down the long tunnel as he smoked, the burning end of his cigarette illuminating his leathery features. He closed his eyes for a moment, pictured the young woman on the folded-up piece of paper in his rear pocket. Her youthful face beaming, the sparkling leotard stretched out over her athletic body. She’d just executed a perfect landing off the vault and garnered yet another win for her proud University.
Now she’d be honored forever...
* * * *
Tuesday afternoon, one day before spring break officially begins...
Nearly five days had passed since Jessica Fiori had last seen her roommate Alicia Dewitt. The freshman wasn’t necessarily trying to keep tabs on her friend’s activities, but she thought it was odd that the senior hadn’t come back to the room for such a lengthy period of time. The bonfire had come and gone, and Jessie hadn’t seen the cheerleader there either, which was really peculiar, considering Alicia’s popularity and her abundance of school spirit...
I haven’t seen anyone from that entire clique around either.
The eighteen-year-old freshman was well aware that the jocks got certain “privileges” so maybe they actually did get an early release from classes.
Jessica opened the door to Robinson Hall, entered the lobby, and then headed directly for the student mailroom. As she approached, she spotted one of the R.A.’s sitting behind the counter.
Ian Hardwick was one of those preppy-types, with the popped collar, pressed slacks and imported penny loafers. He drove a hot little sports car and liked to brag about how many coeds he’d easily bedded in his first three years of college...
“Couldn’t get enough of me, so you decided to stick around, eh Jess?” Ian teased. The boy had an irritating habit of running his hand through his quaffed hair whenever he talked. The tick went into overdrive whenever he saw her...
“No.” She replied, cautiously.
“Since most of your competition has left, you’re probably thinking now’s your best chance for a quick hook-up.”
“Yeah, well, don’t count on it!”
“Aw, sexual frustration is such a bitch, isn’t it?”
“Only you would know.”
Jessie gave him an annoyed look and cracked her chewing gum. “So do I have any mail or not?”
“I suppose I could take a look, but it’s going to cost you...”
Jessie rolled her eyes with contempt.
Ian sauntered across the room with a sense of arrogance in his step. He reached into the mailbox, flipped his hand around inside to indicate that it was completely empty, and then withdrew. He snapped his fingers in the air and gave her a blasé look.
“Shucks―no mail today.”
The R.A. walked back to the counter to where Jessica stood; he leaned across the surface, being sure to get a bird's-eye view down her low-cut top...
“My god, those are some juicy tits,” Ian said, staring directly at the valley of her cleavage. “How ‘bout I close this dump early, we go back to my room, and I’ll cash-in that favor that you owe me.”
“Ugh! ―You're like, such a dick!”
And with that, Jessica swung around and stormed off, leaving Ian to stare at the counter after her.
“Hey; if you need someone to tuck you in tonight, you know where to find me!”
Jessica gave him the middle finger and yelled “Fuck-off!” over her shoulder. She sprinted up the steps to the second floor and quickly disappeared from view.
Ian waited until the girl was well out of earshot and then withdrew his phone from beneath the counter. He scrolled through his contacts and rang a familiar number...
As he waited, Ian raised his free hand and gazed at the large gold ring on his finger; the one with the crest of the Pygmalion Brotherhood. Turning his hand this way and that, the pledge admired the way the gargoyle’s green eyes glinted beneath the light. A voice greeted him on the other end of the phone...
“Yeah, she’s here... She’s alone, too. B quad, room number six, second floor; I’ll leave the spare key here underneath the counter. Yes sir... You’re very welcome sir... Anything to help with the cause, sir.”
Ian put his phone away and cracked a devilish smile. Only one more assignment to complete and he’d officially become a full-fledged member of the fraternal order...
* * * *