"Jaxson Daniels."
That name once again owned the sports headlines associated with basketball. His semi-erect cock hardened to fullness while he read the article. Damn, this kid's good, he thought.
Relaxing back in his bed, he gently stroked his hard-on with one hand, while scrolling down the article with the other. Soon, he found himself reading and rereading the same line, his arousal stealing his focus. His hand moved down to massage his balls as his eyes drifted back to the boy’s picture. The photographer had managed to get just the right angle to showcase Jaxson’s textbook-perfect shot. Possibilities of the future excited him, resulting in his hand returning to his throbbing member. Rubbing up and over his sensitive head, his palm caressed his cock with his own textbook-perfect stroke.
With his eyes clouding in arousal, he set his phone down and pleasured himself with both hands. One pinched his taut nipples, while the other jacked his blood-filled cock. His stomach churned, steadily climbing towards his release.
Unintentionally, an irritating thought entered his mind. Jaxson had a weakness – his controlling father. Yes, he knew Carl Daniels would be his biggest obstacle. Noticing his cock’s retreat with those thoughts, he quickly painted a different picture of Jaxson in his mind – Jaxson submitting to his will. That was all it took for his cock to lengthen once again. With fervor, he clutched the base with one hand, and rubbed up and down the length with the other. Faster. Harder. He glanced down at his dark purple skin, relishing in the sensations, the burning friction. Aching and needing to come, one hand drifted further down to tease his asshole. His penetrating finger pushed him over the edge. He squinted, gritted his teeth … then came. God how he loved to watch his cum spurt and focused his eyes on the white globs spattering his abdomen.
~Ooooo~
Carl Daniels stood beside his son, Jax, signing him out for the rest of the day. Before he was finished, Principal Chaney's door opened and a tall man, early-thirties, walked out with the principal.
Ms. Potts, the office secretary, said, "You're all checked out, Jax, good luck in the game tonight."
The man had been watching and spoke, "You're leaving?"
His dad answered for him, "Yeah, but not sure what business it is of yours."
The man smiled then coolly answered, "Well, I'm his coach and if he checks out of school on game day he doesn't play that night."
Mr. Daniels took two steps towards the taller man and huffed. "Who the hell did you say you are? I know my son's coach and you ain't him."
Principal Chaney quickly maneuvered between the two men, placing a hand on Carl's chest. "Carl, settle down. Let me explain."
Carl twisted his body to shake his hand off. "I reckon you better!"
"Look, I haven't had time to inform the team or their parents, but Coach Turner had a health scare last night."
"What?" Jax yelled, speaking for the first time, his eyebrows furrowed with worry. Coach Turner had coached him since he was a freshman.
Principal Chaney waved his hands, trying to settle him down. "Jax, he's gonna be alright, but probably can't coach again the rest of the season. This is–" he said, gesturing to the taller man, "–Coach Wade Stevens, who is taking over the team as of now."
Carl threw his hands up. "What? We can't get a new coach mid-season!"
"Now Carl, we know what's at stake and Coach Turner said he trusted no one but Wade with his team. He was a high school standout himself, even played a few years in the NBA. Most recently, he was assistant coach at UNLV."
Turning towards Coach Stevens, Carl barked, "Well, did Coach Turner tell you I always check out Jax after lunch on game days, so he can get some rest before the game?"
Calmly, the coach replied, "He said the team was mine. My rules. And one of my rules is if you aren't in school the whole day on game day you don't play."
"What do you have to say about this? You're the principal, ain't ya?" Carl turned towards Principal Chaney.
He took a deep breath and pointed at the new coach then replied, "His team. His rules."
Carl Daniels cursed under his breath.
Coach Stevens walked up to Jax. "Well, what will it be, Jax. Do you want to go back to class and play tonight or not?"
Jax immediately looked towards his dad for direction.
Coach Stevens saw this exchange and jumped in. "This is your decision. No one else's."
Jax looked away from his dad and mumbled, "I'll go back to class."
His dad shot darts with his eyes at Principal Chaney and Coach Stevens then turned on his heels and stormed out the door, slamming it behind him.
Coach Stevens noticed Jax's discomfort and walked towards him. He lightly tapped the side of his arm smiling. "See you at the game tonight."
"Yeah, umm, okay." Jax turned and walked out of the office.
"Well ... welcome, Coach Stevens." Principal Chaney leaned back against the wall, his face wrinkled with concern. "Jax Daniels is a big deal around here and people are expecting a lot from him and this team. I hope you can handle it all."
"Me too," he said under his breath. "Me too."
~Ooooo~
Coach Stevens was watching warm-ups, having to use this time to assess his team's abilities, when he saw Jax clutching his chest with his mouth gaping open. One of his teammates ran to his side and Jax clutched his jersey in obvious distress. Coach quickly walked over and heard his gasps for air.
"I ... can't … breathe," he stuttered.
"Doc, get over here!"
The team medic ran over, and together with Coach Stevens, hurriedly ushered Jax back to the locker room.
Jax continued to gasp, "My heart … can't breathe…"
Doc had him sit on a table and he listened to his heart and took his pulse. "Find me a bag!" He barked at no one in particular.
A team manager quickly returned with a bag and the doctor held it to Jax's face, instructing him to breathe into the bag. Shortly after, Jax stopped hyperventilating and slumped back onto the table.
"How do you feel now?" the doctor asked.
"Better."
"And your chest?" He asked while checking his heart rate again.
"Better."
Before he could examine him further, Jax's dad burst into the locker room. "What's wrong? Why's my kid not out there?"
The doctor looked up. "Jax has suffered a panic attack."
"A what?"
Coach answered, "A panic attack. It's symptoms can mimic a heart attack to the one experiencing the attack. Has he ever experienced this before?"
"You mean my kid just got scared? Is that what you're telling me, Coach?" His face burned red with his growing anger.
Coach Stevens calmly replied, hoping to soothe Carl Daniel's anger. "Not exactly. More stress related. It's understandable given today's events: shocking news of his coach's quick departure, a new coach, and of course, the mountain of pressure some around him put on his young shoulders."
"Jax, you get back out there!" Carl pushed past the doctor to get in his son's face.
Coach Stevens pulled him back and flung him toward the door. "Mr. Daniels, as I explained to you before, this is my team. The doc and I will decide when he's fit to play. And no parents are allowed in my locker room."
"You ain't gonna do this!" Carl thrust his arms out to shove Coach Stevens, but his attack was blocked.
Coach held his hand out, keeping Carl at his preferred distance, and firmly said, "Jax will stay here this half, monitored by the good doctor, and I will assess his ability to play again at half time. Now, leave before I have you evicted from this game."
Mr. Daniels pointed at his son and said, "I'd better see you out there next half," then turned and stalked through the doorway.
Coach Stevens sighed heavily. This might be harder than I thought. He walked back over to his trembling star player in time to hear the doctor explaining what had happened to him and reassuring him he'd be alright.
Slapping Jax on the knee, Coach kindly said, "You are fine. A lot's happened today and stress can affect a body and mind in a lot of bad ways. We'll get through this. Rest this half. Take deep breaths. Doc here will stay and look after you. We'll see if you can get back on the floor after halftime."
"Thanks, Coach," he wearily muttered.
Jax was able to play the second half. Coach Stevens watched him closely, in particular, how he constantly looked to his dad in the stands for coaching. I have to put a stop to this.
After the game, he pulled Jax aside. "Look. Like it or not I am the coach now. Not Coach Turner. And not your dad. Together, we can finish this season on top. If we don't work together, I promise you that you and this team will suffer. Understand?"
Jax looked away for a moment, contemplating the magnitude of his words, then nodded his head. There's something about this guy I like.
"Good. First thing I need you to do is look to me for game instructions, not your dad. Got it? As soon as your feet hit that gym floor, your eyes are on me!"
"Yes, Coach."
~Ooooo~
In the locker room at the next game, Coach Stevens kept glancing over at Jax while giving the team his pre-game pep talk. Oh no, he's struggling with another panic attack.
Jax alternated between wringing his hands and clutching his jersey. His feet were rapidly tapping the floor. Sweat dripped off his brow. Not again, Jax thought.
Coach ended his speech and called the team together for the all-hands-in yell. Once done, he said, “Guys, go start warm-ups. Jax, hold back, please.”
After the last guy left the locker room, Coach walked over and latched the door. Jax eyed him curiously, wondering if he was about to be berated for something. Maybe Coach noticed he wasn't paying attention.
Without saying a word, Coach Stevens walked over to his gym bag and reached in pulling out a wooden paddle. He dangled it in front of his hardening cock.
Jaxson reacted by taking a step back. “What’s that for?” He asked the question, but already suspected the answer would involve him and that thought sent his anxiety through the roof.
“Well … it’s totally up to you … but I think I know how to help you with your anxiety attacks – a quick fix, so to speak.”
Jax’s eyes darted between the thick paddle and his coach’s eyes and remained silent, fearing what might happen next.
“Do you trust me, Jax?” he asked, closing the gap between them.
Jax’s heart still pounded within his uncomfortably-tightened chest. He was desperate to rid himself of this anxiety crap. Finally, he made his decision. “Yeah, Coach, I do.”
Coach reached out and gripped Jax's shoulder. “Lower your shorts and brace against the locker.”
With dread, Jax obeyed. His shorts hung around his knees. Nerves settled in and he couldn’t help but clench his ass cheeks, bare-naked with his jockstrap. Coach Stevens admired his muscular ass and his cock grew quite uncomfortable within its confines.
He moved alongside Jax. "Ready?"
He didn't look at his coach but nodded his head in consent.
Thwack!
God! Jax exclaimed as the fire spread across his ass. It hurt much worse than expected and he danced from foot to foot.
Coach eyed his red cheeks, then swung again before Jax could further react.
Thwack!
This spank was harder. Jax hissed through his teeth, but his feet remained fixed to the floor this time, hands pressing harder against the locker.
"You okay?" Coach asked.
Jax turned his head, meeting his eyes and answered, "Yeah. Hurts like hell, but kinda makes me feel … I don't know … stronger, I guess."
“Good. Last one,” Coach said, voice smooth and steady.
Thwack!
“Damn!” Jax yelled. He wiggled his hips, trying to shake off the sting, and waited a few moments before pulling his shorts back up to his waist.
Coach immediately patted him on the back, smiling.
When he turned toward the coach, newfound strength was plastered across his face. Also, something else – a newfound intimacy with Coach Stevens. Most importantly, however, his performance-stifling anxiety had disappeared.
“Better?”
“Yeah, better. But, how did you know that would work?”
“I know what you need, Jax. It’s part of my job to know."
"Thanks, Coach."
He lifted the paddle, rubbing his hand up and down the smooth grain while he continued, "And I was once in your shoes … had the weight of the world on my shoulders … all five starters had the same pressure. We were nicknamed "The Fab Five". Everyone expected us to win the state title. To get fired up, we gave each other licks before big games, literally lighting a fire under our asses."
He slapped his hand against the paddle. "Pain is a funny thing. To some, it can bring out your all. We left nothing on the floor and that ritual with the paddle bonded us even tighter."
“Seriously, I’m ready to kick some ass now!”
Coach chuckled, giving him a sharp slap to his tender ass before slipping the paddle back inside his bag.
To his pleasure, Jax flinched, then smiled.
“Like you said, let’s go kick some ass,” Coach said, pushing Jax towards the door.
~Ooooo~
"Jax Daniels, I wish I'd never laid eyes on you! You're an even bigger dick than the others!"
"Sarah, come–"
"Let her go."
Jax turned around to see Coach leaning against the wall behind him.
"I guess you heard all of that?"
"Yep. I think half the school heard all of that. Come to my office for a minute."
Coach Stevens sat on the edge of his desk. "Look, I understand. It wasn't that long ago when I was in your exact same position. But you gotta be careful, Jax."
"God, you sound like Dad."
Wade grimaced at that comparison, but actually agreed with Carl for once. Girls could ruin everything for Jax if he wasn't careful.
"I've heard this talk before. She's pissed for no reason. We didn't even … aw, nevermind."
"Fuck? Were you gonna say, 'Fuck'?"
Jax shifted uncomfortably in his chair and raked a hand through his blonde hair. "Yeah."
"Have you fucked anyone?"
Jax closed his eyes and scrunched his face. "Dad said, 'No sex'. He thinks a girl will trap me by getting pregnant. You know, tell me she's on the pill or something when she isn't."
"Well, he's right."
"I can't believe you're agreeing with him. I thought you hated my dad."
"Jax, I don't hate anyone. Hate is wasted energy. Sure, we don't see eye-to-eye on some things, okay a lot of things, but I don't hate him."
"Anyways, I know the only way to be sure I don't get a girl pregnant is not to fuck her."
"Okay, so she was your girlfriend and you just broke up? Is that why she's so mad?"
"Well, she wasn't exactly my girlfriend. We just hooked up, you know? We didn't fuck, but she did something else to me. And I guess she thought that meant we were dating now."
"I see. Well, safe to say she won't be cheering for you tomorrow night."
Jax laughed. "No, I guess not, Coach."
"There are other ways you know … to get what you need. But we both have to get to practice now, so more on that later."
"Okay. Thanks, Coach."
~Ooooo~
"This has been the plan since you dribbled your first basketball!" His dad barked in his face, spit flying as he yelled.
"No, Dad! This has been your plan!"
"Boy, don't you talk to me like that." He grabbed a fistful of his shirt, jerking Jax close enough to smell his breath.
His son shook loose, heading for the door.
"Son, don't you walk–"
Jax slammed the door before his dad could finish. His eyes filled with tears and he knew there was only one guy who would understand...
Wade heard a light rapping on his door just as he put the steaks under the broiler. He opened the door to find Jax on his doorstep.
Upon seeing his grim face, he gestured him inside. "That bad, huh?"
"Yup," was his only reply as he brushed past his coach.
Coach had fixed two steaks in hopes he might drop by. Earlier when they had talked after practice, he had subtly pushed Jax to approach his Dad about his college choices. Jax had admitted University of Kentucky might not be his first choice.
He placed a juicy steak in front of his star player, who was still sulking. "Jax, we have quite a bit in common. My dad was overbearing."
"Dad loves me though."
Tread more carefully, he's getting defensive. "Oh, I know. My dad loves me too. But they both love the way our successes make them feel."
