In some ways, Eric just never really managed to grow up. If anything, he seemed like he wanted nothing more than to go back to high school and relive what he considered to be his glory days–captain of the football team, and boyfriend of the entire cheerleading squad. Or, at least that’s how he told it. Some of his friends who’d stuck around after high school knew better, and they’d listen to his stories become wilder and more fanciful, fabrications piling up on fabrications, but eventually it seemed like even Eric was starting to believe his stories at some point.

Still, not everyone was impressed by Eric’s braggart talk, and one old codger in the town, a man named Old Willy, who never seemed to age, and who’d lived in the small mountain town for as long as anyone could remember, was growing a bit tired of listening to Eric’s drunken bullshit at the bar when he was trying to watch his sports teams.

“Eric,” he finally said one afternoon, “Would ya shut up with yer piles a bullshit fer once in yer fuckin’ life?”

“Oh shut up Willy–no one gives a fuck what you have to say,” Eric replied, before guzzling down the rest of his beer.

Fed up, Willy walked over to Eric and whispered something into Eric’s ear for a couple of minutes, and the young man’s eyes went from something close to humorous to a horrific stare for the remainder, and then Willy sat back down, and Eric was silent for a moment, before he stumbled out of the bar, recalling the lies Willy had told him, about how he’d been enslaved one afternoon by Edgar, the old, obese janitor at the high school, hypnotized by him into the perfect jock slut, raped over and over by the fuck machines Edgar had designed specifically for his jockslave, and Eric tried to drive home to his parent’s house, but he lived with Edgar now…didn’t he? Why had he even left the house? He hadn’t left his master’s dungeon since he’d graduated high school.

When he got out of the car, his clothes had become a modified football uniform, his ass and cock exposed, and he went into the house before finding the machine he was supposed to be training on, and climbed on, letting it pummel his ass with the huge dildo Edgar loved using on his jockcunt until he was so loose he could barely tighten up again. And back at the bar, Willy grinned, his mouth half-toothless, excited to head over to his friend Edgar’s house for a piece of that uppity jock asshole. After his game was over though–he couldn’t miss his game for anything.

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