Harry Primstone took his sweet time signing the contract. People who had been following him since his primary school days had known he was a cocky little shit, but he was a cocky little shit who was damn good at soccer. His contract would be the most expensive in history, guaranteeing him at least $10 million dollars, even if he only played for that one season. After quite literally a couple minutes, he finally dotted and crossed the letters, and his contract was now officially signed.
He was to report to practice the next day, his first with his new coach. Coach Alex Hadley did not want the team to pursue Harry. He hated cocky little shits like him, even if he was a stellar player. He knew that because Harry thought he was a soccer god, he didn’t need to be coached, and that was right. The team’s new star player showed up for practice late and did whatever the fuck he wanted. He didn’t listen to anything Alex or the other coaches said, and even when he was threatened with being fired, his lawyers brought out his contract.
It was an ironclad contract for at least this upcoming season. Alex could not get rid of it, no matter what he did. And that cocky little shit had worked into his contract that he had to play at least half of every single game, so Alex couldn’t “accidentally” bench him for the whole game. The annoyed coach looked for options on how to solve his problem. He didn’t want to go for the nuclear option, murdering him or some shit like that, and he really wasn’t too keen either on hypnosis or some weird shit called himbo powder.
However, another intriguing solution piqued Alex’s interest. It was a special kind of liquid that could be poured in jockstraps and would disappear instantaneously. The next person who inhaled that scent would then in turn fall under the control of whoever said the trigger phrase for that batch of liquid. Alex tried to wrap his head around the science of it, being a pretty smart man himself. Eventually, he just went, “fuck it,” and bought it, knowing that it had worked on other men.
Getting Harry to sniff it took some ingenuity on Alex’s part. The team’s star player also showed up late to games, barely getting enough time to stretch before he trotted out to the center of the field. Today, though, he was forced to show up early for a pre-game interview with a very prestigious newspaper. Alex had warned the cocky little shit that if he didn’t show, he would be fined. Harry did love his money, so he walked into the locker room before any of his teammates did for the first time in years.
When he walked in there, the only other person in the locker room was Coach Alex. No reporters, no photographers, no other human in there. “Oi, what the fuck is going on here, Coach? I don’t like getting fuckin’ tricked like this!”
“I just needed you here alone, Primstone, so that I could do this.” Harry watched as Coach Alex grabbed a jockstrap from the bench. He walked over to Harry and shoved it right into his face. Harry was so shocked, he didn’t know how to react until it was too late.
As he breathed in the odor of the jockstrap, it didn’t smell like piss, sweat, or even cum. In fact, it smelled a bit fruity, kind of a fruit salad in a jockstrap. He wanted to keep breathing it in, so he grabbed Alex’s hand to keep the jockstrap there. Harry continued to breathe in the weird scent of the jockstrap as Alex said, “Persimmon.” A lot of things suddenly changed in Harry’s mind. He now knew that he was subservient to Coach Alex. Coach Alex would tell him what to do and when to do it. He also really wanted to serve Coach Alex sexually.
“I am under your complete control, Coach Alex,” he announced, still sniffing the jockstrap.
“Good boy,” Alex replied, finally taking the jockstrap away. “Now, get changed into your gear and practice. It’s going to be a tough game today, and we need you at your best.”
“Yes, Coach Alex! I will get changed-”
“Oh, and you don’t need to repeat everything back to me.”
“Yes, Coach Alex. Sorry, Coach Alex.” Later that day, Harry and the rest of his teammates clobbered the team, with a score of 10-0. It actually would have gone higher, but the two coaches agreed on a mercy rule. Surprisingly to the fans and commentators, Harry didn’t act like a cocky shit whenever he scored. In fact, he was very subdued, waiting for the ball to be placed in the center of the field again.
Practically every news source wrote an article on the dramatic change, with even Reuters getting in on it! None of them knew exactly what caused the change, and none of them could have even known that Alex would be reading their articles in his flat as Harry sucked on his coach’s thick and juicy cock. Harry loved serving Coach Alex, both on and off the field. Right now, the two men wouldn’t have it any other way!
(Sorry for the delay in posting. I had a hot story involving 5 hot GIFs and a forced gay to straight scenario, but my computer crashed 4 fucking times while writing it!)
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