Chapter 4

"And this is our athletic department," the principal announced to the group of parents. "Coach Jack Robinson here's been training our football team for the past three years and, I'm proud to say, doing a fine job of it."

Betty Davis, Annette's mother, looked shyly at the six-foot, handsome, blond coach. He looked, she thought, like something straight from a Hitler's Youth Group. Only when she realized he was returning her stare did Betty drop her eyes.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, ends our parents' night tour. If you'd like to stroll around, you're more than welcome. Refreshments are in the auditorium upstairs."

Betty murmured a thank you to the principal with the other parents, walking slowly around the gym and staring at nothing in particular. She had been concerned about her daughter who, for the past two weeks, had been acting very withdrawn.

Annette had always been somewhat quiet, especially since her father's death three years ago. But, lately, her quietness had become very disturbing. It was with this in mind that Betty came to the parents' night to talk to the teachers. There had been no clues.

Something was keeping her there at the gym, something she could not understand. While the others drifted upstairs after a while, Betty remained below, pretending to read the various scores of athletic accomplishments on the bulletin board. She wasn't surprised when, from the corner of one eye, she saw Coach Robinson sauntering up to her, hands on his hips.

"Interested in sports?"

His masculine voice rolled over her, making her flesh tighten and her nipples stand up like tin soldiers. Somehow Betty found her voice, clearing her throat carefully first.

"Oh, just a little. I've been trying to get my daughter interested in getting out a little--exercise and all that," Betty said, noticing how much lower her voice was now as her excitement gathered.

"That's good. A little exercise, of any sort, is good for the body. Looks like you've been working out some," Jack said, casting an appreciative glance over her body. "What's your name?"

"Oh, Betty Davis."

She was giggling like a schoolgirl. She saw he noticed her nervousness. He was smiling, his red lips curling in sardonic amusement as he talked. His straight white teeth gleamed like polished ivory. Betty was aware that the last parent had left. She should go upstairs or leave the area. Instead she stayed.

"You know, there's lots more here at the gym the principal hasn't shown the others. You might be able to see some of it. Some of the boys are coming down here for a late-night workout-- after the parents go. You might be interested in them."

Betty shook her head, holding her purse to her body. She flashed her eyes over his body again. He was stocky, his chest so thick and powerful. Then she dropped her eyes and saw that his white gym shorts were pulled tight against his crotch, giving her a clear impression of a thick roll of cockmeat.

"I... I don't know if I should. My daughter... she's at home waiting for me and. And..."

"Come on. It won't be for a long time. And besides, you'll be getting a personalized tour from me."

Betty couldn't refuse. She felt his big paw-like hand cupping around her neck, holding her prisoner as he guided her across the brightly lit gym floor toward the office area. They slipped past several doors, stopping at a tall green metal one.

"What's in here?"

She could barely get the words out. Her excitement was at a fever pitch. Dimly, Betty was aware of Coach Robinson fishing out a ring of keys and inserting one of them Into the lock. He took her by the neck gently, guiding her into the darkened room. He flashed on the lights.

There were several pulley devices screwed into the low ceiling over head and four tall green metal cabinets standing side by side, soldier-fashion, to her left. Three wooden chairs with straps on the arm rests and legs were pushed together in the far right corner.

"I... I don't understand. Is this some kind of training room?"

Jack laughed, shutting the door behind her with a loud bang. Betty nearly jumped from her skin. He was putting the keys back in the side pocket of his gym shorts. To her surprise that roll of cockmeat was getting longer, pressing more firmly against the front of his gym shorts.

"Kind of... at least, that's what the school thinks. Some of us around here, though, use it for something else."

Betty tilted her chin up defiantly, about to say something that would make him release her. She was thirty-three, attractive and a full adult. She would make him release her rather than become involved in an increasingly awkward situation. She was about to start for the door when Jack held one hand out to restrain her.

"No going yet," he said firmly, the smile still on his lips. "You and I have some serious playtime coming up. And if you're real good, I'll let you play with some of my boys."

Betty gasped, nearly dropping her purse in shock. Wheeling around, she was about to strike Jack when he grabbed her by the wrists, twisting her arms down and around until the fingers pressed hard against her lower back. The quick, violent action sent a shock of agony racing through her shoulder and spine.

Betty dropped her purse, her knees buckling from the pain. In a moment she found herself on her knees on the floor, Jack still twisting her arm behind her and laughing at her escape attempt.

"Now, you're not going to try to get away, are you?"

"What are you doing? You're crazy," she gasped, her head dropping toward the floor.

Betty could hardly breathe because of the pain. Jack loosened his grin, pulling Betty toward one of the cabinets. She tried getting up, her feet tangling around one another. Coach Robinson did nothing to help her. When they reached the first cabinet, he let her go. The woman drew her injured hand close to her body, staring up tearfully at him.

"This is gonna be good, uhh... what's your name again?"

"Betty," the attractive blond said, pushing the hair from her eyes.

"Betty," Jack said, cocking his head to one side. "Nice, wholesome-sounding name. We're gonna do something that's not so wholesome, though."

He opened the first cabinet and pulled out a large four- legged bench, straps near the bottom and top of the forward legs.

"Of course, we've got to get you out of those clothes. Are you going to strip, or do I have to pull them off you?"

"Take off... take off my clothes?" Betty looked at the big man incredulously. She backed away, shaking her head from side to side.

"I'm not going to fuck you with all that on,"

Jack said.

"No, no, let me out of here!"

Jack dropped the bench, then approached her quickly. Betty braced herself, drawing her arms up and clenching her fingers into two fists. As he gathered her up in his arms, she began beating him as hard as she could. It was futile. He laughed at her, pulling her toward the bench, his hands gathering the loose material of her dress. She could feel the hem line slipping past her asscheeks. And then she felt his fingers caressing her asscheeks, kneading the flesh through the thin nylon of her pink panties.

"Now, gotta get these clothes off."

He fumbled with he buttons, tearing some, opening the others. In a moment, she felt the dress slipping from around her shoulders and down to the floor. She was still in his arms, dressed only in her bra and panties.

"Nice body."

"Please, don't do this."

But there was no conviction in her voice. She was yielding to him in spite of his threatening posture. She nearly rested her head on his broad shoulders when she felt his fingers pulling her bra off. Her tits rolled out, big and firm, pillowing out against his chest. Jack moved back for a moment, staring at her pendulous tits, his eyes glittering.