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Baseball Jock

by Scott

Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: not recorded

"Jerk" was what most of Matt Donnelly's college baseball teammates called him behind his back. He had gotten a full scholarship to college based on his substantial athletic abilities. As a 22-year-old senior, he was the big man on campus. Although he was no scholar, he did well enough to stay in college and on the team.

Matt was also impressive physically. He stood 6' 2" and weighed 220 pounds -- all muscle! He had blue eyes, a dirty-blond crew cut., and classic good looks -- square jaw, broad shoulders, etc.

What turned people off about Matt was his attitude. Years of being top jock had made him incredibly arrogant, and he liked to remind his less talented team mates that HE was the reason the team won or lost. Matt also had a major temper, which he lost frequently. When angry, he would run around yelling at everybody in sight. In a five-year-old, you'd call it a temper tantrum. With a guy Matt's size, you quickly got out of the way.

One afternoon, Matt's team was playing a neighboring college. They were ahead until the bottom of the ninth, when the opposing team rallied and scored the winning run. As usual, Matt was furious, particularly since he would take the loss on his record. He ran around screaming at all the other players on the team. One such player was Cris, the first baseman. For some reason, Matt decided that Cris was to blame for the loss. He went up to him and started screaming. Then, suddenly, he reached over and shoved him,. knocking him to the ground.

The other players quickly ran over to stop any fight that might occur. Coach Seacrest also ran over. Cris was sitting on the ground and Matt was standing over him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" the coach screamed at Matt.

Matt just stood there, the veins on his neck throbbing.

"You all right?" he asked Cris, pulling him to his feet. Cris nodded.

"Ok, both of you to my office, now!" He shouted.

Matt turned and stormed towards the locker room. Cris followed behind him. As Matt walked, Cris watched his ass. Like the rest of Matt it was big and strong, firm and square. The straps of his Jockstrap were clearly visible under the tight white baseball pants.

In the office Matt slumped in one chair while Cris sat down in another. Neither said anything during the four or five minutes until the coach came into the office. Finally the coach entered and slammed the door.

Coach Seacrest was about 45 years old. He stood 5' 10" and weighed 180 pounds. He was you standard American male -- not drop dead attractive, but very handsome in a masculine way. The guys on the team all liked and respected him because he was fair and supportive, even to those who weren't the star players.

The anger that the coach had shown on the baseball field had disappeared by this point. Now he was much calmer and more businesslike. One of his players had just assaulted another and he was weighing the possible consequences.

"Matt, I'm really fed up with your behavior. For four years I've put up with your attitude and your temper and I've tried to be understanding, but today you really crossed the line." the coach lectured.

Matt just sat there looking at his feet.

"Cris, you were physically assaulted and I have to ask if you want to press charges," the coach continued.

Cris thought about it. Then he shook his head no. Even though Matt was a bully, Cris really didn't want to see him arrested.

"Another option is that Matt can be suspended from the team"

Again, Cris thought about it. Without Matt, the team was sure to lose, so Cris didn't want to be responsible for that. "No," he answered.

The coach smiled. He stood silently, obviously thinking. Then he called Cris over to the corner where he had a private conversation with him. After about four minutes they left the huddle and returned to Matt. Cris had a smirk on his face as he walked back. The look was lost on Matt, however, since he continued to slump in the chair and stare at his feet.

The coach started another little lecture:

"Matt, I really am fed up with your behavior and you need to be punished. Since you continue to act like a brat, I feel it's appropriate to treat you like a brat. Therefore, as punishment for today's escapade, I'm going to give you a spanking."

As soon as the coach said "spanking" Matt shot upright in his chair.

"You can't," he muttered, "you can't." Matt's eyes were filled with fear

The coach remained calm. "It's your choice. Either you take a spanking, or I suspend you from the team and from school."

A look at Matt's face told you that his head was really spinning. He certainly didn't want a spanking, but being kicked out of school was worse.

"All right," he said, swallowing hard. "I'll take the spanking."

The coach smiled. " I want you to report to the gym 2:30 p.m. tomorrow."

Matt shot out of his chair as he realized what that meant. "No, please, No. You can't punish me in front of all the other guys....please...please." Matt's eyes were filled with tears at this point. Cris noted that he had never seen him act like this before.

The coach noticed that the punishment was already having its desired effect and he softened a little:

"Ok. I'll spank you in my office. However, Cris will be present AND you have to go out into the locker room, apologize the other guys, and tell them what your punishment is going to be.

Matt again swallowed hard. A look at the coach's face, however, told him it was useless to complain further. Matt nodded slightly. The coach walked over and opened the door that led from his office to the locker room.

In the locker room, the guys had already showered and gotten dressed. They were hanging around to see what was gonna happen to Matt. Most of them assumed he would get suspended.

Matt came out of the office, followed by Cris and the Coach. The guys quickly formed a group around office door.

Matt paused a few seconds. Then he started his apology "I'm sorry that I acted like I did during the game and I want to apologize to you all and to Cris."

Matt stopped and looked over at the coach. Then he took a deep breath. You could see his broad shoulders rise. "As punishment......the coach is gonna give me a spanking."

On the word "spanking" his deep voice trembled and broke. Sweat was beading up on his forehead. The guys just stood there and looked at him, not quite knowing how to react. Finally, the coach broke the silence: "Ok, get out of here...all of you."

At 2:15 the next day, the locker room was unusually busy. Guys were finding all kinds of excuses to hang around, which is exactly what the coach intended.

Cris arrived at about 2:20, anxious for the event to begin. He was looking forward to seeing Matt get what was coming to him. But revenge wasn't his only interest; he had had a hard-on ever since the coach mentioned the spanking.

At 2:29 Matt walked into the locker room. Everyone stopped talking and looked at him. The fear and vulnerability that he displayed yesterday was now replaced by an arrogant attitude of machismo. He had obviously decided that acting tough was the best way to save face. He sneered at the guys as he walked over to a chair and sat down next to Cris. He leaned over and loudly threaten "I'm gonna get you for this!" Cris' dick began to soften.

After a couple minutes the door opened and the coach came out.

"Come in, gentlemen," he said, motioning towards the office. Cris quickly got up and went in. Matt slowly stood and walked in. The coach followed them, slamming the door behind him. After a second or two, the guys in the locker room scrambled for a spot close to the office door.

Inside the office, the atmosphere was tense, with neither Matt nor Cris knowing exactly what was to happen. The coach grabbed a chair and placed it by the door. "You can sit here, " he said to Cris. Cris did as he was told, relieved to have the observer role.

The coach went and sat at his desk. "Donnelly, come here!!!!!!!" He bellowed. Cris jumped. The coach was a strong, serious man, but no one on the team was SCARED of him. However, the tone of his voice was now very ominous. Matt slowly approached the desk.

"I'm going to ask you one more time -- do you want suspension or a spanking?"

"Matt ground his jaw tightly. "I'll take the spanking," the growled.

"Ok, let's get started. Take off you shirt," the coach ordered.

Matt stepped back from the desk and began to pull his dark blue knit sportshirt over his head. When he was finished, he held it in his hand, uncertain of what to do with it. Finally, he put it on the desk.

The coach let Matt stand there a few minutes. Matt did indeed have a great body and his chest and stomach we're perfect -- muscular, with light coating of hair. Matt was trying very hard to be cool, but you could tell he was getting nervous. Standing there, he was uncertain of what to do with his arms. He crossed them, put his hands on his hips, and finally let them drop to his sides.

The coach stood up and walked around the side of the desk. Standing behind Matt he instructed him to bend over the desk. When Matt heard "bend over" his blood pressure shot up. He hadn't been spanked since he was 5 and so he really didn't know what to expect. Now, it was all becoming a reality and he was getting scared.

He also regretted his choice of clothing. He was wearing a pair of very light cotton chinos. He wished he had worn jeans.

Matt slowly lowered himself over the desk, obviously uncertain of how to accomplish the task. As he bent over, Cris noticed again what a great ass he had. The chinos were tight to begin with; Bent across the desk, Matt might as well have been naked since they stretched to capacity. Cris could see the outline of Matt's briefs through the pants

Without warning the coach took the first swat. "Whack"

Cris jumped at the sound and Matt let out a yelp. The coach paused a few moments to let the message sink in. Then he started in on a series of hard, sharps swats. The sound echoed through the office and was clearly audible to the 15 guys outside the office door. The coach's hand was big enough to cover each cheek in about 3 swats. He systematically alternated buttocks -- high, low, left, right. Cris wasn't sure who the coach had spanked before, but he was obviously experienced.

After the first yelp, Matt regained his composure and remained silent. He knew the guys were outside the door listening. The pain from the spanking was reflected in the firm grip he had on the edge of the desk. After about 40 very hard swats, the coach stopped. "Stand up," he ordered. Matt slowly stood up. He face and neck were red, not only from the pain, but from being bent over. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. His jaw was tightly clenched.

"Take your pants off," the coach instructed very sternly.

"No way," Matt protested.

"Do you want me to take them off for you?" the coach questioned.

Matt quickly reached for his belt, anxious to avoid any undue humiliation. He unbuckled his belt and then unbuttoned his pants. After pulling down the zipper he began to slide the pants over his butt and thighs. Once he got them down to his knees, he stood and kicked off his shoes. Then he bent back over and pulled his pants off, dropping them on the floor. Then he stood up.

Once again, he regretted his choice of attire. He was wearing a pair of his old Fruit of the Looms. They were clean, but a little dingy and worn.

Cris's eyes were glued to Matt brief-covered butt. He imagined he could see those massive cheeks glowing through the thin cotton fabric. He COULD see some red marks on Matt's thighs right below the leg bands.

The coach walked over and pulled a piece of wood out of his gym bag. I was about 2 inches wide and 24 inches long. It was not an "official" paddle, just a piece of wood the coach had found at home. He stood in front of Matt and cracked the paddle into his palm. The sound was deafening and Matt's eyes widened. "No, please" was his only comment.

The coach grabbed a chair from behind his desk and placed it in the middle of the room.

"Bend over" he ordered.

Matt stood there, completely uncertain about what he was supposed to do.

"Put your hands on the seat" the coach instructed.

Matt did as he was told. His hand gripped the edge of the seat and he was bend over the back of the chair. Because he was so tall, his stomach didn't touch the back.

"Lift up your fanny," the coach continued

Matt raised his buns so they were high in the air..

The coach stood back about a foot. He swung the paddle, and connect right down the middle of Matt's butt. The strike was extremely hard. Matt shouted and stood up.


"Bend over" The coach yelled. He had no intention of hitting Matt that hard again, but he knew the effect had been made.

Matt slowly bent over again. The coach stepped back and started to deliver another volley of swats. Though not as hard as the first, they were still painful and Matt tensed and cried "ouch" with each blow. The coach skillfully laid the paddle on Matt's butt, moving from top to bottom and then back up again.

After about 55 swats, the coach stopped. At this point, Matt was sobbing freely. The coach put his hand on Matt's shoulder, pulled him up and turned him around. Tears were streaming down his very red face. His body was trembling. Standing there in his white underpants, he didn't look like the arrogant jock he usually did.

The coach walked over as sat down in the chair. "Come here," he said softly and patted his thigh.

" Oh, no, please...please. Not that...." Matt could handle the pain, but the humiliation of being turned over a man's knee was more than he could take. He just stood there, tears streaming down his face. The coach stood up, took Matt by the arm and gently led him over to the chair. When he sat back down, Matt was standing about 18 inches in front of him.

"Turn around," the coach ordered.

Matt did as he was told. He stood there with his bottom directly in front of the coaches face. The coach reached out and grabbed the waistband of his underpants. He slowly slid them off his butt and down his thighs. As he did so the redness of Matt's butt became very apparent. From his waist to the top of his thighs, Matt's rump was fiery crimson. A few welts were forming from the paddling he had just received. The coach knew that Matt's rear was very, very sore.

The coach maneuvered Matt around and over his knee. Cris was amazed to see the 220# captain of his baseball team lying across a man's knee like a child. The coach shifted Matt's weight so it was supported by his hands, which were on the floor. This left his feet off the ground and his shorts dangling from them like a surrender flag.

Once he got him position correctly, the coach began the bare-bottom spanking. The sound of his hard hand hitting Matt's bare butt was loud and crisp. The blows weren't as hard as those delivered with the paddle, but on Matt's already sore butt, they hurt like hell. Also, by this point any toughness that he came in with was completely gone. He was now crying like a little boy.

The coach kept him across his knee for another 40 swats. By this point the spanking was one big tear-stained blur to Matt and the individual swats meant nothing. Finally the coach stopped and helped Matt to his feet. Matt stood there sobbing, his broad shoulders heaving up and down from the pain and humiliation. The coach just stood there, letting Matt regain his composure. Cris sat there, his dick harder than it had ever been in his life. Looking at Matt, he started to feel sorry for him. Outside the door, the guys listened intently.

After a couple minutes, the coach told Matt to put on his underwear. He looked around and located his briefs. He slipped them on, taking great care as he pulled the waistband over his fanny. Standing there in his underpants, he was the image of a naughty little boy. The coach gave him a final lecture about appropriate sportsmanship and attitude. Matt stood there nodding in agreement. He then made him apologize once again to Cris.

"Get ready for practice," the coach said quietly.

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