Keeping a Minimum Grade
Copyright© 2025 by Golden Ghost Pen
Chapter 2
BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 2 - A straight college runner does whatever it takes to keep his grades up to compete.
Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Ma Consensual Reluctant Gay Fiction Sports DomSub Humiliation Spanking Analingus First Masturbation
Milliseconds before the start, I held as a perfectly still, low to the ground statue of pent-up energy, focused solely on the burst about to rush through my calves.
BANG.
I took off like a rocket, ignited and blasting off its launchpad.
My feet pounded the track, the force of my legs pushing me faster than almost any human being on earth. I was flying. The world narrowed around me. Seconds felt like hours. Then came the burn. A searing fire erupted in my thighs, screaming for me to stop. My lungs felt tight, begging me to breathe. There was no time for breathing.
One final desperate lunge. I threw my chest forward, willing it to cross the line. Silence ... then a roar of the crowd. I crossed the finish and eased up to slow to a halt. I put my hands on my knees, bending over in a heap of exhaustion. I looked to the scoreboard.
9.82. My new personal best.
I was a champion again.
A smile beamed across my face and I lifted my hands in the air. Sweat dripped down my face and my blonde curly bush of hair bounced as I spun and laughed, another milestone achieved. My teammates crowded around me, hugging me, and ruffling my hair. I couldn’t help my large uncontrollable smile knowing what I had to give of myself to even run today. It was worth every second of the humiliation I had felt with Dawson.
“Ford!! You did it again, kid!” My coach hugged me in the locker room after the competition, “one more bud! One more win and you’re a two time national champion!”
“Let’s go, coach!” I high fived him.
“Keep those grades up! We’re almost there!”
I sat back at my locker and stared at the ceiling. What a whirlwind of a week. 5 days ago I had a professor’s finger in my ass and now I was back to being the fastest man in all of college sports.
I showered and went back to my dorm, plopping down on my bed and checking through my emails. One in particular caught my eye from Professor Dawson. I opened it.
Hi Miles,
I heard about your run today, congratulations! If you could come by my office Monday morning, I’d appreciate it. Same time as when you first came to see me.
Josh
My body shuttered, thinking of what he could want. I didn’t hate him. In fact, he really had been kind like Jake told me, despite the circumstances I’d met him under. But the thought of seeing him brought back a rush of embarrassment and a burning on my backside thinking of the bruises that had taken days to heal.
Monday morning came too fast as I anxiously arrived to Professor Dawson’s office just before 8:00. This time he was already there ... waiting for me.
“Hey Miles, come in,” he beckoned me with his hand.
“Hey Professor,” I tried to make eye contact but felt too ashamed, keeping my eyes fixated on the ground.
“Congrats on the win, sounds like your time was all-world stuff?” He was trying to make things less awkward.
“Yeah ... thanks...” I mumbled, still staring at his feet.
“Thanks for coming by. I’m sorry but I have some bad news I wanted to warn you about.”
My eyes shot up to his. He was frowning and seemed concerned.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this but unfortunately your electrical engineering professor is going to fail your project you submitted a few weeks ago. I asked around after I worked my magic on your grades to make sure you were okay for the rest of the semester. Unfortunately I think this guy has it out for athletes here ... thinking they aren’t taking academics seriously.”
I felt my eyes start to well up, “but ... I worked my ass off on that. There’s no way...” I squeezed my hands into fists in frustration.
“I know. I’m sorry. I think I can get him to delay putting the grades in until after your championship race but it’s risky ... he’s going to question my motivation to push outside my department with him...” he eyed me curiously, as if waiting for something.
“Okay. I ... really need the help. Maybe I can come by again this week?” I lowered my eyes again to his feet, praying this would be simple. I was at a loss for words. Running was everything to me. I was at peace with meeting him in the middle but the thought of being humiliated again felt terrifying.
“Miles.”
I looked up at him, my eyes welling, “yeah?”
“Come by again at 8 on Friday if you’d like...”
“That’s fine...” I offered.
“Great. I will see you then.”
I didn’t say another word, turning and leaving his office.
I showed up to Professor Dawson’s house Friday just after 8:30, half an hour late, toying with whether this was all worth it. Of course it was.
There was another car in the driveway this time, one that looked familiar but I couldn’t quite identify it.
I knocked on the door.
“Hey Miles,” Professor Dawson let me in but didn’t push on my tardiness.
“Hi Professor.”
“Josh. Still Josh,” he tried to ease the tension in the room.
I walked in and was shocked to see my old mentor, Jake, sitting on the couch. He had graduated last year and was the former best sprinter in our school’s history. He was my mentor for the two years we overlapped in school and was the only who originally told me about getting help from Josh. I remembered how Professor Dawson told me that Jake was actually the one who’d negotiated offering himself up in exchange for help with his grades.
“Jake what are you doing here?” I hadn’t seen him all year in person. He had tall, medium length, swooping brown hair to the right, and a narrow face with brown eyes. He started modeling on the side as a senior and even I could admit he was good looking. He was much taller than me at 6’3” and was tan and slim, with a six pack from a decade of running that had erased any ounce of fat on his body.
I’d seen him naked plenty of times in the locker room and knew he had a pretty smooth chest with just some stray hair in the middle, defined abs covered in a very thin layer of fur, and a wild happy trail leading below his waist line to a cut dick that seemed a little bigger than mine soft. I’d tried to not check out my teammates in the locker room but it was difficult, especially as a freshman, to not compare myself.
I remembered he didn’t seem to groom often down there and also noticed last year that his ass was a little furry. It stuck out to me because it made me realize I was the only guy on the team whose ass seemed completely smooth, which always made me feel a little ‘younger’ than my teammates in a way.
“Hey buddy,” he always talked to me like his mentee even though I was now faster than he ever was.
“What’re you doing here?” I was puzzled.
“Josh called me and filled me in on your situation.” My heart raced. “He felt bad and thought up an idea.”
“What kind of idea?” I was nervous.
Josh spoke up, “I thought someone you’re more comfortable with might make things easier.”
I looked between the two of them. Were they fucking crazy? “Your plan is to invite my straight older friend here so I could be even more embarrassed? More humiliated?”
“Calm down man ... Miles, I’m bi” Jake got up and walked towards me, putting a hand on my shoulder.
I thought for a minute before speaking, “Huh?” I looked over to Professor Dawson.
“Yeah I realized it last year here...” Jake said, flashing a small, comforting smile, “you’re so hot dude, I’ve always kinda had a crush on you, I think...”
My eyes narrowed, surprised but weirdly not put off by his compliment and learning about his infatuation for me. I’d always interpreted his time-consuming mentoring as him just investing in a younger teammate with championship potential.
“Are you okay if I just watch you two figure things out?” Dawson asked.
Jake squeezed my shoulder. I did at least feel more at ease than last time, knowing he’d always had my back. I could trust him.
“Yeah ... I think so...” I offered up.