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Unorthodox Coaching (Sequel to "Otterly Stuffed")

By Otteronymous

"Pathetic! Absolutely fucking pathetic!" Coach Marino shouted. "I can't tell if you're a football team or a bunch of god-damn ballerinas."

The bull's sweat-soaked polo pulled hard across his impossibly wide chest as he bellowed, the former Mr. Olympian's generally calm and controlled demeanor being pressed to the limit by his worthless men.

"The first game of the season and we get trounced by Hawthorne...FUCKING HAWTHORNE! Does anyone care to tell me how a High school that has never been in the playoffs ends up beating last year's state champions?"

The team sat silent, their survival instincts well-seasoned...save for two fools, a stag and a wolf, snickering to each other at the side of the crowd. Coach Marino zeroed in on them like a matadors cape, his blood running hot as he barked.

"Mitchel! Kyle! Either of you fucking smart-asses have something you'd like to say!?"

Mitchel Hargrove, the tall, corn-fed stag, froze like a kit caught with his paw in the cookie jar.

"N...no, Coach," Mitchel stammered, panicked sweat matting his fur.

Kyle Knight smirked as he licked his canines. One measly callout from the head coach and Mitchel was ready to roll over, the cocky wolf thought to himself. He knew the stag was a fag, but he didn't think he was that much of a bitch.

"Is this amusing to you, Mr. Knight?" The coach asked. "Perhaps you can inform us why we failed to put a single point on the board this evening?"

Oblivious to the molasses-thick tension in the air, Kyle leaned against the wall, a smile on his muzzle as he flippantly replied.

"Hell if I know. My game was on point."

University bound on a full-ride scholarship, Kyle Knight knew he was above some washed out old High School coach and his bullshit. He had seen it at his old school; a team run by countless burnouts and has-beens who were used to running roughshod over chumps, but couldn't handle a real athlete like him when push came to shove.

"Dude, Kyle..." Mitchel whispered. "I know you transferred here this semester, so you don't know, but you don't talk to the fucking coach like that. He--"

"Well then," Coach Marino interrupted, "If it wasn't the quarterbacks' fault, Mr. Knight, then what else could it have been?"

The bull's gaze narrowed as he eagerly waited for the wolf to cross the line. It had been months since anyone dared to cross him, and his loins ached for a dissident.

"Maybe it was the weak-ass starters you've got setup, or these 2nd rate receivers that are running retarded routes. Hell, so far as I can tell, the only people pulling their weight around here are me and Mitchel."

Mitchel's eyes darted in panic. He could see the bull's tree-trunk thighs flexing through his khakis, preparing to make a move.

"Dude!" he hissed. "Don't drag me into this!"

"In fact," the ignorant wolf continued, "I think the most likely cause is the tired-old plays that have been laid out by their equally tired coach."

The team stifled their gasps and slunk backwards, the behemoth of a bull causing the ground to vibrate as he moved to tower over the unfazed teenager.

"What did you say, boy?"

Coach Marino could smell the soft, pathetic musk wafting off the boy below him. His stomach growled, his pants grew tight, and he yearned to hear the mewling lamentations of this bitch before snuffing his life out in one hardy belch.

Fortunately for him, he wouldn't have to yearn for long.

Kyle scoffed, his smile refusing to fade even as he watched Mitchel slink away out of the corner of his eye.

"I said, you're a fat, tired old bull whose glory days are in the past, and---"

Kyle was cutoff as the coach hoisted him off the ground by his neck, his final word sputtering out in shock as the bull's massive hand threatened to crush his windpipe.

Coach Marino smiled. He was going to enjoy this.

"I knew I should have cut you months ago, Mr. Knight," the coach snarled, his muscle-drenched arms barely moving as Kyle clawed at his grip. "I think it's time I corrected my mistake once and for all."

Kyle swung his hips up and bucked hard, landing a solid mule-kick across the coach's muzzle, the bull loosening his grip at the surprising impact of the blow.

"F...Fuck you," Kyle sputtered as he loaded another kick.

Before the wolf could fire, Coach Marino jerked hard, slamming the wolf into the tiled wall, his grip still firm around Kyle's neck as he pulled the dazed wolf close to his face.

"I love it when they fight," the bull whispered into Kyle's ear. "I'll have you begging me for forgiveness by the time I'm done with you."

Kyle snapped his jaws, missing the bull's throat by an inch as Coach Marino jerked back. Another firm swing and Kyle went slamming into the wall, the tile cracking under the force before being thrown like a ragdoll to the floor.

The team huddled around, still silent as they watched the coach lumber over to the dazed wolf.

Mitchel stared at the bull as he discard his shirt and khaki's, the young stag blushing as he looked upon coach's wide back, hard, barreled gut, and thick, rounded bubble butt.

The locker room grew hot and muggy as the coach's pungent musk filled the area, overpowering the room with his raw masculinity as he lumbered over the groaning wolf. Like an old pro, Coach Marino ripped off Kyle's shirt and shucked his sport shorts, laying the wolf bare before his teammates.

"Wh...What the fuck are you doing?" Kyle asked, his eyes fluttering as he regained consciousness and felt the bull's hand around his neck. "Don't touch me, you fucking faggot!"

Coach Marino gave a hard slap across the wolf's face, the team flinching at the impact of the jarring blow. Going slightly limp in his grip, the bull turned and showcased the slumping wolf to the crowd like a cat displaying its kill.

"Mr. Knight has forgotten his proper place, believing himself to be a man rather than the pathetic, sniveling bitch that he is. Take a good look boys, I'm going to remind you what it's like to be in the presence of a real man."

Grabbing Kyle by the scruff of his neck, Coach Marino turned sideways to the crowd and slammed the wolf to his knees. Spreading his fat asscheeks apart, Coach Marino drove the wolf's muzzle deep into his sweaty asscrack with a sickening squelch.

Kyle screamed as his muzzle wedged between the bulbous mounds of bull flesh, the overwhelming stench of the bull's unwashed musk causing his eyes to water.

"Take a deep breath, bitch," the coach said, his voice husky and lustful. "You're going to be well acquainted with it soon."

Kyle whimpered as he huffed the coach's thick stench, his tongue stinging from the acrid, testosterone-soaked sweat that coated his tongue as he drew in breath after sickening breath that fermented in the bull's crevice.

"Lick my ass, Bitch. Put that busy mouth of yours to work if you ever want fresh air again."

Coach Marino ground his ass down on Kyle's face, the wolf's vision going hazy as he reluctantly tongued the bull's tight, musky entrance. Coach Marino grunted with pleasure as the wolf's tongue dug into his hole, the once mouthy wolf now lapping up the vile flavor that only 14 hours of coaching in the hot southern sun could cook up.

Kyle whimpered and bucked as he licked the bull's asshole clean, the Coach's unnatural strength giving him no choice but to open his stench-coated muzzle and take lapping mouthfuls of hot, sweltering air directly from his source. Kyle begged to lose consciousness and be set free from this torture, unaware of how much worse his condition was about to become

Feeling sufficiently primed and lubed up, Coach Marino threw his odorous bitch to the floor, the wolf franticly gasping for fresh air.

With a firm hand around the wolf's ankles, Coach Marino dragged him to the center of the locker room like a kid carrying his teddy bear. Panicked and clawing at the tile, Kyle cried out to the dozens of shocked faces staring at him.

"What are you all doing!? Fucking help me! Help me you God damn--"

Kyle was silence as the bull struck him on the back of the head, his body going slack from the pain.

"There's no use crying to them, boy. They know their place, and a piece of shit like you is about to know yours."

With a heavy sigh, Coach Marino squatted down and jammed Kyle's ankles into his well-lubricated hole, the wolf's thick legs causing a rebarbative squelch as they slid into the bull's rectum up to the knees.

Kyle gave a pained moan as felt his feet go warm and his face slide across the cool tie. Rubbing the back of his head and gathering his bearings, he turned and was greeted by the sight of his body being grossly sucked and squelched into the bull's fat, greedy ass.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!" he screeched, his voice cracking in panic. "HELP ME! THIS FUCKING FREAK IS EATING ME!"

The team remained silent, watching in horrific awe as the wolf was dragged up to his waist, the bull's sphincter hungrily stretching and engulfing the quarterback's body like a starving snake.

"I told you, boy." The coach said, his cock growing hard as his ass packed away inch after delicious inch of wolf meat. "They aren't going to help."

Coach Marino's fondled his melon-sized nutsack and stiffening member as Kyle kicked inside his hot, hungry guts. It had been over a year since he dominated some pathetic excuse for a man with nothing but his ass. There was nothing he loved more than using his powerful, unforgiving guts to torture and crush those who fancied themselves worthy of challenging his rule, delighting as his innards balled up living, breathing men into nothing but soft, digestible meat for his sustenance before dumping them into the sewers in their proper form.

Kyle screamed as he attempted to push himself free from the bull's sweaty, mewling ass, the wolf's impressive musculature vainly pressing against the bull's bulbous asscheeks before slipping off the sweaty mounds, causing his arms to sink into the warm, pulsing flesh of bull asshole, locking the once cocky quarterback in place.

"I'm sorry!" Kyle cried, his pride giving way to his desire to not suffocate within the squalid depths of a high school coaches' musky bowels. "I didn't mean to disrespect you!"

Coach Marino smiled. Most of them didn't break until they felt his asscheeks engulf their muzzle. He had a real bitch on his hands with this one, and it would be a shame not to have some fun with such a pathetic vessel of a Y chromosome.

"Oh, you knew full well what you were doing, Mr. Knight" Coach Marino said. "But I'm going to give you a chance to make it up to me."

Mitchel froze as Coach Marino locked eyes with him, the bull gesturing for the uncharacteristically timid stag with a playfully curled finger.

Mitchel hurried over to the coach, and following his directions, positioned himself behind the bull, his crotch resting level with Kyle's sweating, panic-stricken face.

"Talk is cheap, Mr. Knight, so I'm going to make you a deal. Prove to me what a good little slut you are and suck Mitchel's cock. If you can get him to cum and you guzzle down his load before I drag you into guts then I'll keep you on as a second-string quarterback. Fail, and you're going to be clogging the bathroom pipes tomorrow after my guts leach every ounce of protein from your bones."

Kyle's jaw quivered as he fought back tears. He wanted to scream, but this was his only hope.

"Come on, Mitchel! Get your pants off you fucking faggot and help me out of here!"

Mitchel dropped his pants, embarrassed by his already hard 8 inch cock as it came to rest in front of Kyle's quivering muzzle.

Like the selfless friend he was, Mitchel nudged his cock into Kyle's muzzle, a bit too eager to know just how tight the wolf's virgin throat was. Mitchel groaned as he felt the Kyle's reluctant muzzle swallow inch after bulbous inch of his cock, the stag surprised by the wolf's acumen at throating such a large member.

The stag's cock pulled free from the wolf's muzzle with a wet pop as the coach fell on all fours and pulled Mitchel another few inches into his guts.

"Sorry about this," Mitchel lied as he cradled Kyle's head in his hands and lined up his cock once again. "Just don't clench your throat, it's easier that way, trust me."

Mitchel drove his cock all the way down Kyle's throat, the wolf's gagging as he engulfed 8 inches of thick stag meat in one motion. Mitchel bucked his hips in rhythm and stepped in time with the coach's pulls, his cock growing painfully hard as it was massaged by the crammed confines of the Kyle's gullet, the wolf eagerly milking the stag's rod for a lifesaving load.

Mitchel staggered forward as Kyle was pulled faster and deeper into the bull's mewling rectum, the stag's lustful grunts in concert with the coach's own as his ass opened wider, preparing to engulf Kyle's massive shoulders into its swelter, stinking depths.

Kyle's pained gagging only drove Mitchel to hump harder as the wolf's tear-stained face clenched and contorted. Mucus ran down Mitchel's balls and bouts of spit-up soaked his groin as Kyle gagged and hacked around the stag's massive shaft, barely able to breathe as his friend picked up pace.

"Almost there, buddy!" Mitchel said, giving his friend a slap on the side of the muzzle. "Just a little closer, I'm about to cum!"

With perfect timing, Coach Marino bellowed, his ass finally working over the wolf's broad shoulders and dragging his toy up to the neck just as Mitchel reached his climax.

Mitchel clenched his eyes shut and let his thick load crash through the gates, his cock popping free from the wolf's eager throat as he was pulled back, forcing the stag to spray his pent up load all over the wolf's cringing face.

Kyle hacked and sputtered as the torrent of thick, ropey cum splattered all over his face, the viscous, salty load stinging his eyes and hanging off his muzzle like thick, white jungle vines.

"T...there!" Kyle said with a cough. "I did it! Please! Please let me out!"

Without even looking back, Coach Marino gave his response.

"I believe I said SWALLOW the load, not paint your face with it. How can I believe that you're a good bitch if you can't follow simple orders and swallow a load?"

Mitchel and Kyle were crestfallen, the stag fighting the urge to pull on his friend free, lest he suffer the same fate.

"A deal's a deal, Mr. Knight," the coach said. "Looks like its dinner time, and my guts are starving."

Mitchel watched in horror as Kyle screamed and flailed in vain, his friend going into full blown panic as the bull's sphincter slithered up his neck.

"No! No! I'm a good bitch!" Kyle cried as he felt the bull's bloated asscheeks creep across his face "I'm a bitch! I'M A GOOD BITCH! FUCK ME! LET ME SUCK YOUR COCK! ANYTHING SIR! I'M YOU BITCH!"

Mitchel felt a sickness in his gut as his friend's frantic, pathetic screams were silenced as the bull's rectum slipped over the wolf's muzzle, clamping it shut.

"I know you are, Kyle." The coach said. "Now you're just shit."

With one last grunt, the bull's sphincter engulfed the last of the wolf, his asscheeks jiggling as they slapped together and locked Kyle into the squalid, festering tomb of his bowels.

"Ahhhhh" Coach Marino sighed as he rose to his feet. "Packed away nice and tight where he belongs."

Mitchel winced at the sight of the bulls now distended, bloated belly. The packed muscle-gut twitched and undulated as Kyle kicked and squirmed in the bull's squalid depths.

"Take a good look, boys" the coach said, patting his twitching belly. "Mr. Knight will be spending the last few minutes of his pathetic life choking to death inside my smelly ass before I churn his pathetic carcass into a steaming pile of shit. Remember this the next time you feel like sharing any strong opinions."

Coach Marino moaned as Kyle kicked hard in his guts, the wolf's struggles pressing impossibly hard against his prostate.

"Mmmmm, that's it, my little bitch. Squirm for daddy. Get me all worked up for your little friend."

Mitchel's blood ran cold as the coach gestured for him again, his lustful visage striking dread deep into the stag's heart.

"Don't think I've forgotten about you, boy." He said, his eyes meeting the deer's before casting them down to his throbbing cock. "This isn't going to take care of itself. That is unless you think Mr. Knight needs a roommate for the evening."

Mitchel ran over and fell to his knees, the stag's own cock rising back to attention at the sight and smell of the throbbing bull meat before him.

"Such a good boy," Coach Marino cooed. "Looks like you're just as excited as I am."

Mitchel blushed as the coach tilted his chin up and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"Who's in charge of this team?" He asked softly.

"You are, Coach." Mitchel dutifully replied.

"And who's my good little bitch?"

"I am, sir."

"Good boy," he cooed. "Now suck."

Mitchel, despite his experience, struggled to engulf the bull's stunning girth, the stag gagging and sputtering as the bull's gargantuan cock forced its way down his throat, its sheer size causing an obscene bulge to distort the stag's already thick neck.

"Ohhhh yessss, nice and tight like a good bitch." Coach Marino said with a huff, his hips bucking into the stag's struggling gullet.

Mitchel teared up as his lips met the bull's groin, the musky smell nearly overpowering him. As Mitchel nuzzled against the bull's sweaty crotch, he could feel something kicking his nose. Kyle was still writhing and bucking in the coach's fetid bowels. The young stag could hear faint noises through the flesh, no doubt Kyle screaming and crying for his life as his filthy air supply ran low and the coach's powerful guts continued to ball him up tighter and tighter.

"Listen to him cry," Coach Marino cooed to Mitchel, chuffing as he pumped his cock in and out of the the stag's throat. "He's begging for forgiveness, praying that I'll let him back out. I can feel him pissing himself in there, terrified and suffering as he's dominated by the ass of a superior creature."

Coach Marino laughed as he grabbed the stag by the horns, his cock growing stiffer still as he thought on the wolf's pathetic form being stripped off its fur, his skin burning and cracking from the digestive enzymes, crying and begging to be set free from the pain as his lungs burned from the noxious fumes of previously digested meals.

"That's it, writhe my little bitch," Coach Marino said to himself, knowing Kyle was unable to hear his words. "Kick and scream! Show daddy how much you want him to snuff out your worthless fucking life!"

Coach Marino bucked harder, his cantaloupe-sized nuts pulling up tight as he felt his orgasm build. "Yessss," he moaned, feeling Kyle's weak struggle strike against his swollen prostate. "That's it! Give in! Feel my ass fucking dominate you! You're nothing now, you little bitch. Nothing but meat and shit!"

With one last buck, Coach Marino buried his cock down Mitchel's throat, the sweating, bloated bull letting loose a gallon of cum down the stag's abused gullet at the same time he ripped a deafening fart through the locker room, driving out the last of Kyle's squalid air supply.

*FFRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTT*

Mitchel gagged as white-hot jizz blew down his throat, the stag's hands cradling his belly as it painfully bloated outwards from the sheer volume of seed being pumped into it.

With a violent squelch and a loud, wet pop, Coach Marino tugged his cock out of the stag's bruised throat. Mitchel fell to all fours, hacking and spitting up cum as the coach patted his own gut with content.

"Nothing but meat now, Mr. Knight," he cooed to his bloated, unmoving belly. "Nothing but meat."

Taking a dep whiff of the stinging, wolf-infused air he had just farted into the room, the coach made his last remarks to the shocked and shaking crowd of players.

"Take a deep breath, boys. That's all that's left of Kyle Knight....at least until morning. You know the rules, no talking, and no gossiping. I have ears everywhere, and unless you want a personal lesson on how Mr. Knight feels right now you'll keep your mouths shut. "

The bull single handily pulled Mitchel off the ground, giving the stag a pat on his cum-pregnant belly as he gestured for the team to clear out.

"Mitchel here is our new starting quarterback. This man knows how to listen to me, so all of you will listen to him. If anyone is dragging ass or fails to meet his expectations, I'll hear about it, and remember boys, I LOVE making roster changes. Now go home, get some sleep, and meet here tomorrow morning so we can go over next week's strategy."

As the team quickly cleared out, Coach Marino made his way back to his office, his gait notably wider as he compensated for the extra 200lbs of meat lodged in his bowels. With a heavy sigh, he leaned back into his high chair and turned on his computer.

Bringing up his browser, Coach Marino typed out an E-mail to the head coach of Hawthorne High school, feigning sincerity as he congratulated his rival for his victory, and being doubly sure to follow his praise with an invite for tomorrow afternoon to congratulate him in person.

It wasn't just students who needed to learn not to cross him, the coach thought as he patted his bulging belly, his thick gut sure to have enough room for another guest by tomorrow afternoon; sometimes other coaches needed to be reminded of their place in the pecking order as well...

-End