Page 13

13

STETSON

We were at the bottom of the ninth inning, two runs away from beating the Oklahoma Twisters. Like their namesake, they were destroying the field. They were absolute beasts , making us work for each hard-earned run.

Sweat stung my eyes. My walk-up music was drowned out by the pounding in my head. The Thrashers had two outs, and one man on third. Either I kept this game going, or I was going to be the one to end it. I raised my bat, locking eyes with the pitcher. I tightened my grip on the handle and counted my breaths, along with the pounding of my heart. I wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of a long game. I hadn’t mistaken the way the catcher wobbled in his stance before I put my back to him, or the pitcher taking an extra second to roll out the aching muscles in his neck. When he readied himself to wind up, I dropped my eyes to the ball in his hand. He tried to hide it, but I could see the position of his fingers.

Splitter.

I aimed low and swung.

Hit.

The crowd roared. My heart matched each heavy footfall. The cheers got louder as my teammate hit home, tying the game. I rounded first, hearing the ball slap into the baseman’s glove. I knew his move before he made it and slid to a stop, pivoting to race back to first, only to see the ball fly over my head again. I hovered between the two bases, the thundering in my ears growing louder.

I was stuck.

One coach yelled at me to get back on first. Another one screamed, red-faced, for me to take second. I couldn’t see a way out. Either way, I’d get tagged. The Twisters were too good. In a split-second decision, I faked back to first, then spun and dropped to slide into second. The baseman took a step off the plate. A glove touched my ankle. I squeezed my eyes shut, hours seeming to pass while the umpire came over to make his call.

The only sounds to be heard were the deep, heavy breaths from myself and the player standing above me.

“Out!”

I was too tired to even groan. Throwing my helmet aside, I took the hand that was offered to me by the guy who’d tagged me out. “Good game!” he called, squeezing my shoulder before heading off to celebrate with his teammates.

I trudged toward the line-up, then we collected our things from the dugout and walked silently into the clubhouse. Losses always sucked, no matter the circumstances.

Losses on home turf, however, sucked a different kind of suck.

The clubhouse was dead silent. No one had anything to say. There was nothing to say. We’d played our asses off and everyone in that room knew it. Still, our head coach paced by the door, fumbling for words.

He finally settled with, “Good game. Rest up. See y’all in the morning.”

A chorus of grumbles and “Yes, Coach,” followed, then the team dispersed. Some left, heading home to spend the night with their families. A few players headed for the clubhouse showers. I plopped myself down in my seat and dug my phone out. I was nasty, sweaty, my white uniform streaked with grass and red Georgia clay.

This was my first loss of the season. Hell, it was the first of my pro career, and there was only one thing I wanted, one thing I needed. I pressed the call icon with a shaking finger and lifted my phone to my ear, cringing at the sweat-slicked screen sliding along my cheek. It rang once, twice, three times.

“Hey baby… Barrett’s here. You’re on speaker.”

I shuddered, instantly feeling better. I glanced around, making sure I was truly alone. “Hi Daddy,” I whispered, running a hand through my hair and pushing my cap off in the process.

“Uh-oh, bad news?”

“What happened?” came from Barrett.

“We lost. Barely, but we lost.”

The call fell silent for a beat, and I started to undress.

“What do you need?” Levi finally asked.

“I need to get out of my head. I can’t let this throw me off my game tomorrow.” I stripped down, wrapping a fluffy white towel around my waist.

Levi— Daddy —chuckled, the sound tranquilizing my tumultuous thoughts. “Lucky for you, I have just the idea.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I’ll be home as soon as I shower.”

“Don’t hang up yet, baby boy. I need you to start there.”

My heart picked up speed again, for a different reason. “What do you mean?”

“Are you alone?”

I ducked out of the way of the last few stragglers. “In the showers, yes. But there are a few guys getting dressed.”

“You’ll have to keep quiet, then. Think you can do that for me?”

My dick twitched under the towel. “I can try.”

“Do you have your headphones?”

“Yes.” I spun and rushed back to my cubicle, retrieving my Bluetooth headphones from my bag.

“Yes, what ?” Levi growled.

I dropped my voice to a whisper, cheeks burning. “Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s better. Turn on the shower and let me know when your headphones are connected, but keep your phone nearby.”

I shuffled in place, cock hardening to full mast between my legs. “What now?” I asked with a shaky voice.

“Now we have to have a quick talk. What we’re about to do might get intense for you. Do you remember your safewords?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered. “Yellow to slow down, red to stop.”

“Good boy. Can you position your phone where it won’t get wet, but only you can see it?”

I looked around. A waist-high wall separated the showers. I pulled my towel free as I stepped around the wall and bunched it up on the edge, creating a pillow where I could prop up my phone. I had my back to the spray, hot water pelting my sore neck and shoulders. Steam filled the space around me.

“Color, baby?”

“Green.”

“Good. I’m going to send you something. Once it starts to play, I want both your hands on that wall. Don’t move until I say so. Understood?”

“Yes, Daddy.” I waited for the video to come through, and it was then that I realized that the other man in the room had gone quiet. “Barrett?”

“I’m right here, Rookie— ah !”

My dick throbbed. I knew that sound. “Are you two…?”

“Play the video, baby.” Whatever Levi did made Barrett moan, my skin pebbling up in response. “Hands on the wall. Don’t touch yourself.”

I pressed play, then flattened my palms on the top of the wall. I swallowed a groan of my own as I realized what was transpiring on the screen. Barrett was on his knees between Daddy’s legs, mouthing over the shape of his hard cock behind his underwear.

“Fuck.” I squirmed, squeezing my thighs together against the pressure. “Can I?—”

“No,” came Daddy’s stern voice.

“Come on baby. Don’t make me wait.”

I bit my lip, whining. “Please, Daddy.”

“I said ‘no.’ Not until I say so.” Barrett spat another curse. “Keep going and you won’t come at all.”

I waited in anticipation, ears blessed by the combination of erotic noises. Barrett’s glossy hazel eyes peered up at the camera.

“Go ahead .”

Daddy’s cock sprang free from his boxers, and mine throbbed. Barrett whimpered. I stifled a sound of my own. Outside the showers, the few voices faded away and the door to the locker room shut. I bit my lip, waiting and hoping…

Fucking finally. Complete silence.

I let a single, quiet moan escape, clenching my fists tight on the tile. Barrett worked Daddy’s length like a pro, meeting his lips with his fist before dropping his hand and sinking all the way down.

I danced in place, desperate to put my hands on myself.

A wet slurp and pop sounded through the call, then Daddy said, “Remember baby boy: no touching.”

“I-I’m not,” I strained, hoping that my restraint was evident in my voice.

Another sloppy noise, and Barrett sighed again. “I’m close,” he huffed.

Fuck, so was I.

“ Come on. I know you can take more than that. ”

I’d never been so close to blowing without even touching myself. The obscene sounds coming from Barrett’s mouth, the pornographic ones coming from Daddy in the video

Oh, shit.

My eyes glued on my screen, Barrett slipped two fingers between Daddy’s legs and when his hips tilted, I knew where they’d gone. I whined, ass clenching at the thought of being filled by one of them.

Or both.

Throwing caution to the wind, I begged . “Please, Daddy.”

There was an animalistic snarl that I assumed came from Barrett. “I said no, boy.”

“Stetson,” Barrett panted, “if you make him stop sucking my cock one more time, I’m going to punish you. Have I made myself clear?”

“Y-yes…”

“Sir,” he finished for me.

“Yes, sir.” My fists tightened on the towel, hands beginning to go numb .

“Don’t swallow. ”

Oh, God I didn’t think I’d make it through that. My balls drew up, hanging heavy between my legs. Both sets of sucking, slurping sounds increased. I fought the urge to close my eyes, to?—

“Fuck, I’m coming,” Barret cried.

In the video, Barrett gagged and creamy white liquid poured down Daddy’s shaft. I wondered how those lips would feel around my own dick, remembered what Daddy’s felt like. Was that what I would get if I held out? I wanted to be good, I wanted so badly to obey but when Barrett roared on the other end of the call, I folded.

“I can’t take it.” My left hand shot between my legs, fingers wrapping tightly around my cock. I sighed, and my hand moved of its own accord. The water pounding my back and streaming down my shoulders provided a slick surface for my palm and simultaneous groans graced my ears.

It didn’t take more than a few pumps of my hand for me to spill my release, bursts of come splattering against the wall in front of me. I stifled another groan. The video had stopped playing. Daddy had gone quiet and Barrett panted, grasping for each breath.

As I came down from my high, I realized what I’d done. I shivered, and it had nothing to do with aftershocks. “I-I’m sorry, Daddy,” I stammered, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m really sorry.”

Barrett chuckled.

“Wash up and get home, Stetson.”

“Damn, you sound good when you’ve been throat-fucked,” Barrett whispered.

He wasn’t wrong. My cock made a feeble attempt to twitch at the sound of Daddy’s hoarse, raspy voice, but the knowledge that I’d just disobeyed him was enough to whisk that feeling away. I stammered and stuttered, fumbling for something to say

“Color, Stetson.”

“Green,” I said without hesitation.

“Good. Then we’ll talk when you get home. Shower off, and drive safely. I’ll see you when you get here.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good boy.” And then he hung up.

I swallowed against the lump in my throat and rinsed myself off. As I pooled water in my hands and washed the evidence of my crimes off the wall, I wondered exactly what I was in for.