Wresting Team Gone Wild Ch. 09

A new coach with rather unorthodox methods is appointed to bring the University's wresting team back to the top. Unfortunately for straight hunk Scott, the path to victory involves turning him into the team's bitch.

The story, names, and places are entirely fictional. All characters featured are above 18. Enjoy.

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Wrestling Team Gone Wild

Chapter 9: The naked calendar

After seven weeks of trainings and a second competition where we all got good results -- no one ejaculated on another wrestler that time -, we had a week off and I went back to my parents for just a few days.

The video of me cumming on my opponent had died down a little but I was still receiving messages daily from guys asking me to open an Onlyfans or to send them masturbation videos. Some were offering me up to 500$! Sure, I was broke but not to the extent of accepting that.

My one-on-one training sessions with the Head Coach were finally over, I was not supposed to work on my insecurities anymore. I naïvely thought that, maybe, things were finally about to get normal.

The relationship with the rest of the wrestling team was still tense but Travis and I were now cordiale with each other, which was already an improvement. Sometimes, he would ask me weird questions about my ex-girlfriends, as if he wanted to check that I was really straight. I tried to ignore that for the sake of rebuilding my relationship with him.

When we came back at the university, a few of us were called to meet with Coach Ranson and Robert de Portier in the Coach's office. It was about the calendar.

"Guys, the shooting will happen next Friday. Your professors have already been informed and you will have your day off."

"Sweet!" Said Cory.

"We expect you to be in the yard on the east side of campus by 7am."

"Still sweet?" Damian asked Cory with a grin, the junior looked down at his shoes.

"Francis wants to shoot you under the beautiful sun rise. You don't have to come with anything specific, except maybe for your wrestling singlets just in case. Otherwise, we will give you everything that you'll be needing there. Just make sure you have good rest the night before." Explained Robert de Portier.

Three thousand dollars to wake up at 6am, I could definitely do that.

When the other athletes mentioned money and asked when we would get paid, I realized that the seven other wrestlers who had been selected were only paid a few hundreds dollars. I felt bad but did not say anything. They were all hating me enough as it was and Coach Ranson had the good sense not to mention my "privilege" to anyone else.

Travis and I had an actual conversation for the first time the day before the shooting, as we were coming back from our Thursday's training. Can you believe it? I did not even have to show off my ass during work-out or in the locker-room! I just showered with everyone else normally. Damian did slap my ass once but at this point, it was really nothing.

"Damn, it's going to be cold tomorrow morning. Shooting outside in November, those guys are crazy." Travis said while he was zipping his coat all the way up.

"It took you two months to realize they were crazy?" I replied with a smile.

He looked at me, marked a pause and chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess it's not the worst thing we did this year!"

It felt good, being able to laugh about it. Sometimes I thought to myself, maybe I was too sensitive. Sure, there had been some hazing in the locker rooms and the Coach was tough but it did work, the Wolves were leading the championship and I myself, was leading my weight class.

Travis was right though; Once we arrived in the shooting location, we were all freezing waiting for the sun to come up and the photographer to arrive.

Francis came in with Coach Ranson, Robert de Portier and a couple of luggage containing his professional equipment. It was the first time I saw Coach Ranson wearing a pair of trousers instead of his usual nylon shorts.

"Good morning, Fellas!" Said Robert, enthusiastic.

Everyone mumbled a good morning. We were not too sure what to expect and Cory was yawning every two minutes.

"Now, for the first set of pictures, we wanted to shoot you in this beautiful yard, outside light will do wonders and the classic architecture surrounded us, oh my, you will be like Gladiators, no, Greek Gods!" Described Francis, the man clearly had a vision.

A few students who were going to the library or early classes passed by us, probably wondering what a bunch of jocks were doing outside in this cold morning.

"So, shall we?" Asked Coach Ranson.

Francis started setting up the equipment. Robert de Portier stopped helping him to scold us:

"What are you waiting for, boys?"

I looked at Travis and at Harry, they seemed clueless as I was.

"Take off your damn clothes, the shoot is about to start!"

"Right here?" Asked Harry, suddenly worried.

"Yeah, well. Why are you so surprised?"

"I thought we would keep our clothes for this part of the shoot outside." Intervened Coty. Damian and Eli were already taking off their jackets.

"This part of the shoot?" I questioned out-loud.

Francis smiled:

"You boys knew it was a naked shoot, right?"

Everybody replied with a more or less energetic yes except for me. I whispered to Travis:

"Man, what the hell?"

"Yeah, I know, my dick is going to be shrinking a lot under this cold! I would have preferred the nude part to start later on." He replied.

"I mean, you knew we would shoot naked?"

"Well, yes. At least for some of it. Like in the previous calendars."

"They're naked on the other calendars?!" I asked, a little bit too loud and the staff and wrestlers looked at Travis and I.

"Dude, have not you seen the calendar last year?" Asked Cory whose muscular chest was now glistening under the first rays of sunlight.

"Or read your contract?" Said Harry while nodding his head in disbelief and taking off his pants.

"I did see the calendar! Well, the cover and some of the pictures. But they weren't naked, they were wearing speedos. I thought they only wore speedos because of their sport!"

Thinking about it, Victor and the rest of the water polo team did not wear tiny golden speedos during competitions. I really was naïve sometimes.

"Dude, the contract was 2 pages long, really, you could not bother to read it?" Whispered Travis to me a few minutes later as we were now standing in our underwear. Thankfully, for once, I was not wearing my jockstraps but blue boxer briefs.

"Not mine!" I replied, remembering the thick contract on the Coach's desk a few weeks prior.

Travis looked surprised.

"You got a different contract?"

"Never mind." I said, realizing my mistake. The photographer was explaining we would shoot in groups and individually.

I could only blame myself on this one. Selling naked calendars was not unsurprising for male sport teams to make some money or to donate for charity, and if there was one university where it would be encouraged, it was definitely the one I was attending! I should have expected that.

I thought back about the few shots of the water polo team I had seen. The pictures, despite featuring almost entirely naked men, looked great. A bit too sexy for my taste but nothing too revealing or embarrassing.

I figured that after the picture of me posted on the official website of the university and what had happened during the first official competition, I could live with nude pictures on a calendar as long as it remained tasteful, which was the promise of the staff.

Getting ready to pose in the nude, I had to recognize that I had come a long way working on my insecurities when a couple of months before, I could not even be naked in a locker-room without being super embarrassed.

At the beginning, things went pretty well. Normally, we should have had robes to cover ourselves between the shots but Francis had thought about everything except bringing those, so we would wait for our turn in our boxers, doing push ups to try to stay warm and to get our bodies pumped. We all wanted to look our best.

The setting was beautiful even though I could have done without the whistles of the students passing by. Francis would ask us to remove our boxers once we were in the desired position, we were mostly shot from behind in sort of gladiators poses, showcasing our muscles. Once we were done, we would put our underwear back on and go wait with the others.

For once, I was glad that Damian was there as he was happy to go first and lead the way. His back and ass looked crazy from the angle he was shot under. The lighting did seem perfect. Somehow, the naked pictures were less shocking than the wet and translucid singlets. After Damian, it was the turn of Eli, Harry, Tom, Cory, Amir, Travis and finally, me.

I thought the photographer asked a bit more of me compared to the others. Mostly, they had to flex their biceps, moved a certain angle to have the perfect shot, but for me, Francis was really insisting on my glutes and on my ass.

"Arche your back. A little more. Again, a little more."

At some point, I was almost bent over and I knew that if I was arching a tiny bit more, my hole would show. Clearly, this would not be fitting for a university's calendar!

Girls were passing by, giggling. Damn, my ass was already big enough, no need to focus on it!

I did my best to comply with the instructions. Robert de Portier had assured me that the pictures would be very similar in the tone from the ones used in the previous year's calendar. He also told that the calendar should remain somewhat "family friendly", however, the last comment of the photographer about my "juicy ass" was definitely not "family friendly".

"Guys, can Donkey Scotty stop showing off his bum like that! If he bends over just a little more, he will give me a hardon, look at that big yummy pussy he has!" Damian Feytons could not help himself from commenting on the side-lines. But this time, I was glad he did, even if he was mocking me, it made the photographer back down a little.

Damian was not kidding though; his dick was semi hard.

Yes, if you were wondering, Damian did not bother putting his underwear back on after his session. He just remained there, naked, in the middle of the campus.

Given that I was paid way more than all of them (including all of them combined when I thought about it), it would have been inconsiderate to complain so I just went on with the shoot and I hoped for the pictures to remain acceptable. In the end, I did some bodybuilder pose, trying to look like a Greek statute and I assumed those would look good, highlighting my aesthetic.

As an hour had passed, more and more students were walking by or literally stopping to watch our shoot. Some even got their cameras out. It was still very cold and we were all eager to pursue with step two of the shooting inside. But the photographer was not done yet.

"Put your boxers aside guys, we will now proceed with some group shots. You'll come by groups of 2, 3 or 4, and then all together."

"It's getting crowded...." Mentioned Cory in a weak voice.

Indeed, people were sitting outside and just watching us now. We were also visible from the classrooms not far away.

"Exactly, so let's move this thing along, come on, everyone naked!" Commanded Coach Ranson.

Eli and Damian already were, the others complied. We were all used to getting naked in the locker-room by now, our singlets were also very revealing, but knowing that my teachers or classmates could see me in the nude, I got, once again, unsecure.

Travis was not super at ease either; he kept his hands over his genitals. A cute black girl was looking at him, giggling with her girlfriends. I tried not to think about my abnormal long dick and my enormous ass. I could not get self-conscious again or the Coach would notice. To prove him wrong, I tried to act as comfortable as I could, not really hiding my junks.

On the contrary, the young Tom seemed to get more and more comfortable for real. He even provided a sort of a strip show to a group of girls from his year: "Enjoy the show girls, 8 jocks just for you!"

In three years' time, this guy would be worse than Damian, I thought. Well, Damian was literally doing the helicopter with his schlong so maybe it would be difficult to top him in terms of ludicrous behaviour.

"Come on guys, go over there, right next to this bench, the light is perfect. Turn around."

"Woooo!" Some guys clapped behind. "Show us some good ass, wrestlers!"

"Boys!" Scolded the Coach at the guys who were making fun of us. But he was smiling.

I was put right in the middle of the group shot, between Travis and Eli.

"Now, look on the side, boys. Put your arms around each other's shoulders, show us some team spirit!"

As much as it was a difficult moment for me, for once, I was not singled out and we were all in the same boat. I had Travis's arm around my neck and I almost felt like we were friends again. It was sort of funny, having all of us naked in front of a small audience of students. The photographer encouraged us to loosen up, maybe that would give great shots.

Francis and Robert then formed a few pairs and groups. More and more, we were asked to stand closer to each other, side by side, our backs against each other. When my ass touched Tom's little bum, I was reminded how much of a freak I was. But it got worse when I got paired with Damian for the finale shot outside.

"Feytons, Russel, lean over this bench and face us."

Naturally I put both of my hands in front of my cock. It was only logical now that we were directly facing the camera.

"Use one of your hands to hold the bench behind you and flex your biceps."

Damian obliged right away but I had a problem. I needed both hands to cover my elephant cock. I was sure that no dick had ever appeared on the calendar of the school. Some ass maybe, but going full frontal was not an option.

"Sir, if I do that... My penis will show."

"Oh, come on, it's not that big Russel, get over yourself! Follow Damian's lead."

Damian was barely concealing anything at all. The Coach frowned at me. I got vivid memories of my insecurity's lessons. Fuck, not that again!

I tried to hide my genitals as much as possible with my right hand while my left hand was holding on the back of the bench I was leaning back to.

"Great shot! Great lighting! Great Models! Adonises" Exclaimed Francis.

"Do we really need to hide the goods, Mr Photographer? I think the public will want to see!"

Damian put his two hands behind him to lean completely back to the bench, his dick in full display. What the hell was wrong with this guy?

"Damian, if you want to start a porn career go ahead, but don't involve the whole wrestling team in it!" I snapped, outraged.

"Let's just play a little." Settled Francis. "Feytons you're going to hide Russel genitals with your hand and Russel, you'll do the same."

At least, Damian's idea had been rejected. I slid my hand to the left so it would be in front of Damian's dick, for a few seconds my genitals were fully visible but we were no longer directly in front of the other students.

Damian took his damn time but finally, he put his hand sort of in front of my cock but he was barely hiding anything.

"Dude, hide my dick with your hand!" I begged him.

I heard the clicks of the camera.

"Damian!"

"Oh, sorry, ok, I will hide it."

This time, he moved his hand way closer and touched my cock with his palm.

"Dude!" I yelled.

"Come on boys, stop horsing around, we know you have big dicks. Can we be serious for 2 minutes to get this shoot over with?" Said the Coach.

I was furious. Damian kept his hand against my cock. But he did worse, he moved his hips forward so my own hand would come into contact with his dick.

Was he aware we were being photographed? Well, not only photographed, filmed! From time to time, Robert was using a small camera to shoot what he referred to as behind the scenes. I was certain he was not missing a single second of the action, his camera floating around every time we were changing position.

As much as it made me sick, I hoped this would be a personal movie only. Our communication director could have a wank for himself but this videos better not leave his personal computer!

"Now turn around, boys! Damn, that ass is huge compared to the other. Crazy!" Chucked the photographer, taking his last pictures. I was fully red.

"Ok let's wrap this up. Time to go on second location, the gym!"

I hurried to put some clothes back on and I thought the worst had passed. At least, in the gym, there would be no audience watching us and we would not be freezing. Also, what more could they ask from me? Damian had already touched my cock!

"For the next sequence, we want to pay tribute to your sport. We want to bring you back to the origin of wrestling in ancient Greece. Let's recreate the atmosphere, tension, and pride of those times where being a Man still meant something!"

Several bottles of oils had been put on the bleachers.

"Are we in for oiled-up naked wrestling match?!" Shouted Tom. Was he actually excited?

"You cannot be serious!" Stated Travis. I had a feeling he was about to leave the shooting.

"Sadly, the most prudish member of the university board would not be too keen of going back to the roots that much. Some people just do not understand art! So instead of fighting in the nude, you can wear those jockstraps." Francis showed a pile of underwear on the floor.

I guessed this was better than being stark naked? I was not enthusiastic about the idea but jockstraps before being sexualized and associated with gay guys, were actually commonly used in sport.

"Come on, boys, let's change!" Ordered the Coach.

I felt ok with my grey jockstrap on. The pouch was hardly concealing my dick which threatens to poke out at any given moment but surprisingly, I was fine with my ass. Wait, maybe, I had finally accepted my fag ass after all? I mean, my fat ass. I was not a fag! Those guys were really messing with my brains with their derogative comments sometimes.

For a couple of hours, we would have to re-enact traditional wrestling poses in our jockstraps and do actual matches. The photographer wanted to shoot us in the heat of the moment so it looked raw.

As we were almost exactly the same weight, I got paired with Travis for most of the shoot and we had to oil up each other regularly so we kept on shinning bright. We kind of looked ridiculous but the photographer was determined to have every inch of our skin covered by oil, at all times.

"I know it looks like a lot but it needs to pop for the camera! It's like when you do television, you always wear way more makeup than in your daily life."

Travis was a bit awkward oiling me and avoided my ass crack or my inner thighs. This was not acceptable for Robert de Portier though. He was committed to respect our photographer's vision and quickly took matter in his own hands. Literally.

At some point, Robert grabbed the oil bottle from Travis' hands.

"You do It wrong!" He claimed. "You really need to get in there!" He said, as he was rubbing my ass, his lengthy fingers getting dangerously close to my ass crack.

I wanted to yell but complaining had never gotten me anywhere. I let him oil me up counting the seconds, and then the minutes, until he would be done. He spent so much time on my inner thighs and on my groin, I started to feel some twitching in my cock, barely contained in the jockstrap. Thankfully, he let go of my cock before I got too stiffed.

He finished me up by massaging my feet with his oily hands, going up to my large ass, and then even went on my armpits.

"Every inch should be covered. Now, do it to Travis." Robert told me, handing me back the bottle.