(Story) Captured by the cox (F/m fiction with spandex, rowers)
Encounters
posted 8 months ago
"Does anyone want to borrow my coat?"
Somehow, nobody else jumped at the chance. Perhaps I was the only one who was cold. Perhaps the chill I felt was just nervous energy from casual eye contact. Maybe she'd just pitched her voice so I was the only one who could hear it. It was one of the tools of her trade, after all.
"Yeah, uh, yes please," I sputtered, trying not to sound too eager. She passed it over and I snuggled up inside it. It looked roomy from the outside but it was stuffed full of featherweight fluff. I dared to zip it up. It smelled faintly of citrus. I looked up to find her watching me.
"Comfy?" she asked. She was reduced to shiny black leggings and a tight light-blue zip-neck top that glistened in the evening sun. My eyes took in her spare frame. Definitely female, but not that much in it, especially not with that hair.
"Toasty," I replied. "Thanks." I blushed a little bit. "Uh, it's lovely, actually." It was an object of desire, the puffy down jacket with the team logo embroidered onto it. It carried heavy significance, to those whose eyes were sensitive to such things. Its ownership conferred a certain status, its rarity its main source of value. And they were all fit as fuck, obviously, the rowers, as well, even the skinny little ones who just did the shouting. Like her.
"You ever been rowing?" she asked me. I shook my head.
"Nah," I replied. "It's... not for me."
Her head titled sideways and her eyes narrowed. "What's that mean?"
"Sorry! It's not," I blurted. "Uh, I just can't... uh..." I whispered.
She scooted over closer to me, and even through the down jacket I could feel her warmth. "Can't what?" she whispered back.
I closed my eyes and told her, in a minute voice. When I opened them again, she was looking at me, but not with the disgust I was expecting.
"Did you have an accident?" she asked. I nodded. "In public?" I nodded again. "Did anyone notice?" I nodded a third time, and hid my face from her for a moment.
"So even if I wanted to..." I began.
"Do you?" she asked quickly.
"Uh..." I took a moment to think about it. "Uh... maybe... not? I mean, it's nice to watch and I'm sure it's great to be on a team and get fit but... I'm not sure I'd actually want to... compete?" She made eye contact with me, so I hurried on. "Like, the kind of team I'd be on would be... making something, maybe. Like building. Or cooking. You know. The fun part."
She nodded and leant back, spread her palms on the grass. "The fun part," she repeated.
"Taking? Part?" I squeaked.
"Something like that," she replied, with half a smile. She offered me a hand. "Walk with me?"
"Sure," I said. She slid her arm into mine. The loft of her jacket rubbed between us as we went. Across the park, around the backstreets and into a terrace. Up some stairs. Into a room.
"Strip," she said, and I obediently unzipped her lovely coat.
"Thanks," I said.
She shook her head, and when she repeated herself she used a different voice, more used to command. "Strip." I felt my knees wobble a little.
"What...?" I asked.
She replied by holding up a garment in front of me. Shiny and colourful, light-blue and white, it looked much too small. "Strip," she said, one more time.
I could feel my resistance ebbing away. My cock was trying to poke a hole in my underwear. "I... I can't, I'll just... you know," I finished lamely.
She brought the lycra rowing suit closer to me. So close I could smell the plasticiser in the stretchy fibres. "I know," she said. "That's OK. If I'm going to train you, that's going to happen."
"Tr-train...?" I stuttered.
"If I can get eight girls to pull at the same time," she said, "I can get one scrawny lad to find some self-control."
"Why, though?" I asked in one final attempt to delay the inevitable. Of course I wanted to. I just didn't want it to be too easy.
"You looked so cute in my coat," she said in a softer voice, "I want to see you in some of my other clothes." She grinned at me. "Now strip." The other voice was back.
She helped me pull off my jeans and tee efficiently, as if we were in a changing room. "Don't let that thing go off in my eye," she said, before quickly pulling down my undies.
My cock bobbed in the air between us, hard and with a blob of precum at the end. "Aw. Cute li'l fella," she said on her way back up, giving it a flick. I gasped, but if anything I got even harder.
Then she brandished the lycra in front of me again, and began to help me slide it on. "It's OK if you spunk it straight away," she told me briskly. "Just..."
I reeled at the sensations that were caressing my inner thighs already, lycra stretching and sliding up between my legs. "Not in the eye," I gasped, "got it."
I lasted until she pulled the top half up over my nipples, and then my cock pulsed and throbbed as I unloaded into the pale blue lycra. I whimpered and tried to turn away, but she held my chin in place. "Not a problem," she said. "Arms."
She persuaded my arms through the holes and smoothed the lycra down across my chest and back. I shivered at her touch. She continued her caress as I calmed down and my spunk cooled to a clammy mass. "Alright?" she asked. I nodded mutely. "Have a look." She oriented me towards the mirror on the front of the cupboard.
I stood in the shiny blue fabric, giving my average-to-skinny bod nowhere to hide, a dark stain at the crotch already fading out a bit. The lycra pulled into in a V where the two halves met at the waist, a little higher than my belly-button. "Is this... a girl's?" I asked dumbly.
"Duh," she replied. "Why would I have boy's lycra?" She laughed. I opened my mouth to speak. "No, don't you dare, I get enough of the crew calling me a tom." She positioned herself next to me, the blue of her top matching the blue of her lycra rowing uniform. "I mean, I may be, obviously, but I'm not gay, no matter how some of them feel about me." She kneaded gently at my crotch, straightening up my soft cock through the wetness. "Besides, you look fine, it's not like you need a lot of room for this little guy, eh?"
My tongue tried to tie itself in a knot and I ended up not saying anything for a little while. I could feel my cock rallying at her insistent touch. She slid behind me and felt up my nipples through the lycra with her other hand in turn. They responded by stiffening as well. "Oh, I know," she said, and broke contact to go looking for something in a pile of clothes.
She shucked the top half of the rowing suit from my shoulders like peeling an ear of corn, then yanked something even tighter down over my head. I watched in the mirror as she snugged the light blue sports bra down over my chest, then pulled the lycra back up. I loved being dressed in her gear by her. She grabbed at my chest from behind and squeezed it gently. I moaned quietly at the firm pressure and sense of safety that I felt.
"But how's this...?" I knew I sounded whiny but I couldn't help it, not with her hand at my dick again, uncomfortably hard after just a few minutes to recover.
"Now you listen to my voice," she said, "while I wank you off." She peeked at me over my shoulder, catching my eye in the mirror. She held me close with one arm while her hand moved, slowly up and down over my dick, through the lycra. "You love coming for me in my team kit," she said, "but you don't come without my permission. Understood? Say yes."
"Yes." I shivered at her touch.
"Say 'yes, miss'."
"Yes, miss."
"I like that," she said. "You can call me that all day."
"All day?" I asked. "Miss?" My knees wobbled a little bit.
"I'm gonna learn what every little wiggle and moan you make means," she said, "and then we're gonna work on your endurance." Her hand, all the while, stroking me gently through the lycra. "If you get close," she said, her lips at my ear, her lithe body snug against my back, "if you feel your balls tightening up, you let me know. When I'm coxing, me and the stroke talk all the time. Well, I talk all the time and she grunts a couple of words at me. We'll be like that. I talk, you grunt. One grunt for faster, two grunts for slower, how about that?"
"Yes, miss," I replied. "What do you talk about with her, miss?"
Her grip was firmer now, my cock was nearly fully hard again. Aching, but hard. "Oh you know, girl stuff, how hard to pull, how fast, oh-I-broke-a-nail, ew-I-popped-a-blister," she said, punctuating her discourse with an extra squeeze of her hand.
My cock was rock hard again, imagining eight girls in identical light-blue lycra, straining as their skinny cox coaxed them to sweat harder. My knees wobbled again. "Miss, can we sit down please?" I asked. "I can't... I think..."
Suddenly her hand stopped and grabbed my dick tightly. Her other arm was firm around my chest, supporting me. "Don't you dare," she whispered fiercely. "You do not have permission."
She held me like that for a long half minute. My legs stopped shaking. "Sorry, miss," I said. "I dunno what that was."
"That was your cute little cock about to spunk again, sweetie," she told me. "Lucky you said something. Or I'd have had to punish you."
Her words, comforting and threatening at the same time, had a greater effect than she might have intended. "Oh, oh shit, oh I think..." She grabbed on to me as my dick pulsed again, unloading into the same wet spot again. I hung my head. "Sorry, miss."
She held me to her as my cock deflated slowly. "Interesting," she said. "Didn't you have any warning? No tight feeling in your nuts?"
I shook my head. "I was just, like thinking about what you said, and then... you know. It was just there."
"Mmm." I could hear her grin. "What I said?"
"About your crew," I replied. "Miss. All sweating together." I gulped. "And... uh... punishment?"
Her arms wrapped tightly around me. "Oh, yes, punishment. Well, that would depend. I know you say you don't want to go out in lycra, but I could make you do that. The trouble is, it might not be a punishment. I think you actually want to, don't you? I know I'd enjoy making you. No, a punishment for you... what would that be? Why don't you tell me? What's the worst thing that could happen to you?"
"I think... I think it's going to be pretty hard coming down from this, miss," I said. "I... uh... never want this to be over." I thought a moment more. "I can't think of anything else that would matter, next to this."
She was quiet.
"Please tell me it's not just a game, miss," I begged her in a whisper.
Her reply, when it came was in her coxing voice, firm and clear if not very loud. "Oh, I've had my eye on you for a little while, boy," she said. "I was going to make you my boyfriend sooner or later." She squeezed me tight. "This kinky stuff's just the icing on the cake."
"You could have anyone you wanted," I replied. "Any of those rower lads. Or girls, even."
She shook her head, her hair tickling my ear. "Those boys. Big hairy swinging dicks, that's all. Ugh. Always finding excuses to point it at me through their lycra. You... you're nice and smooth. Especially in my lycra. I want a nice cute li'l dick on a nice cute boy, just for me. To tease and play with and make him go funny at the knees when I tickle him on the bumhole." She pressed a finger down between my butt cheeks and my arse clenched.
She flipped me around then, and kissed me. I whimpered and staggered as she pushed me back. I flopped onto the bed and she ground her skintight outfit against mine. I spread my legs as she took my breath away.
Then she was up and off me again, flicking through her pile of clothes. "Want to try on my swimsuit?"
"Please, miss," I replied, my face full of grin.
