University Divers Take a Dive

Note : This story is completely fictional!

(Warning: Although no one gets hurt seriously in this story, it contains vivid descriptions of sexual domination. Please avoid if you find that disturbing. But if you like to see homophobic college boys get what is coming to them, then, enjoy!)

Crunch! The beer can was crushed in the young man's hand. The young man: Eric Schmit, the place: an off campus bar, the occasion: another drinking party by the university diving team. "Let's see, how's that for muscle.." "Oh, big shit!..." "Anyone can crush a fucking beer can, they're all aluminum!" "What's aluminum?" "For Christsakes, what a fucking retard you are Eric!" So went the sophisticated conversation of the young collegians on the university diving team.

After the drinking party, young Eric (not THAT young-he was twenty-one) and his friends stumbled out of the bar and through the affluent college town toward their university dorms. It was about at least a mile walk, but the young men, all superb athletes, could easily make the trip, even in their inebriated state. The next day, Saturday, they would all have to report for diving practice. They soon got to the dormitory, climbed the steps, entered with their coded id cards, then got to their respective rooms and fell into bed without even bothering to undress.

Eric Schmit was a fine specimen of a young man. About six feet tall, he had broad shoulders, a wide face, blond hair and brown eyes. As the rest of the team, indeed most of the students, he was clean-shaven and had fairly short hair, though not exactly a military buzz. His body was shaved smooth as a baby's, although no baby ever sported the perfectly formed muscles that Eric and most of his teammates could boast. Since divers are looked at so often, the team felt the need to engage in a great amount of power lifting. No member was bulky though, but the combination of the strength training, swimming, and running produced perfect physiques in all of them. They all just looked perfect in their standard "uniform" which consisted of black Speedos, goggles, and swim cap.

If the reader, at this point, expects a description of Eric and his teammates in the nude, however, I'm sorry to disappoint. Yes, these guys all seemed to master the obligatory trick of all straight teen males and young men. They always changed in the locker room the same way. Their beach sized towels would be wrapped about five times around their wastes, their boxers would be removed, then their two swimsuits would be pulled up without even a brief glimpse of any area covered by the suits. Their macho security did not extend to nudity, unless it was with some cute "chick". Then nudity was okay. But to be seen naked by someone of their own sex, no ("fucking") way. Of course, none of the team would admit to being embarrassed. They would say they all wore two swimsuits to increase the "drag" in the water, and thus improve their training. (Ridiculous, they were DIVERS). The coach didn't mind as long as the suit with the university logo, which was placed on the backside of the wearer, was worn outside.

It is probably fairly obvious at this point, but I will say it anyway. The men's diving team at this university was extremely homophobic. They enjoyed being watched by their friends, teammates, girlfriends, even parents. But anyone gay watching them,"UGH...disgusting...fucking homos!!" This may occur at the public events when the members would do their dives. At practice sessions, though, the pool was generally closed. The locker room, however, was used by other students, faculty members, and alumni. This was primarily the reason the team would walk to and from the pool, after changing, with their towels wrapped around their wastes. Every now and then, some middle aged, possibly gay, man would smile at one of the members and say something like, "hi", or "what's up", only to be rebuffed with a grunt and a glare. Sooner or later, some gay man was bound to get too friendly.

This occurred one day when, near the end of the season, a middle aged gay man, named Paul, in a friendly joshing sort of way, smacked Eric's bottom while the later was on the way, with his teammates toward a difficult meat. "Good luck, tiger!" Eric's face flushed red with anger. If I catch that queer around hear again, I'll fuck him up good! he thought. His team mates, who were careful to avoid being smacked on their bottoms, felt the same. (It must be pointed out, that this meet, because it was so public, was one time the team did not enter the swimming pool area with their towels around their wastes. Instead they all just wore their usual uniform, minus the extra under suit).

Paul waited in the locker room for after the meet. He simply wanted to talk to these fine young men. This was a big mistake...because after the meet, strong young Eric Schmit and company promptly jumped and beat the poor man mercilessly. "Now get the fuck out of here!!" They then threw the middle aged gay man out of the locker room. 

But that was a bigger mistake. This man had friends. 
Paul, beaten up badly by the homophobic university diving team, went over to a favorite gay club he often visited. There he met up with a friend of his, Hank. Hank worked the docks as a longshoreman. And, yes, Hank had the muscles to prove it. Hank had a rough, grizzled face from long years of hard drinking and hard working. He had tattoos over his shoulders and powerful forearms, which showed when he wore his favorite denim muscle shirt. Hank's face had a rough beard and was scarred and sun bleached. He was definitely not what you would call handsome, but had a rough appearance that spoke of dogged determination. If aroused, there was nothing Hank wouldn't take on, and the emotion of fear never touched him. He definitely was a man to stand aside for.

"What the fuck's up with you?" "I got beaten up, Hank." "Who, who did it?!" "Some college kids, the university diving team." "Fucking assholes. How many?" "About eight, or nine." "Where...." And so it went as Paul told Hank the whole story of the beating he had received. "Look, Hank, don't start anything. There's about nine of them, as I just said, and most have big muscles. Also, remember, they are a lot younger than you. I appreciate it Hank, but please, just stay out of it." "Look, Paul, you and me, we've been friends for a lot of years, and no one, I mean no one does that to a friend of mine and gets away with it!" "Okay, but at least get some help. How about some of the other guys you know?" "I'll ask around."

The next night Paul met Hank again at the same club. It seemed that no one else but Hank wanted to get involved. That is, at least almost no one. One of Hank and Paul's mutual friends, a big guy that went by the name of Curly, decided to help them out.

If any of my readers are not aware, the name "Curly" is reminiscent of the Three Stooges, and referred to a man who was entirely bald. So if the reader is waiting for a description of a handsome man with curly hair, sorry, that's not how this story goes.

If Hank was rough looking and not too attractive, at least he looked handsome when standing next to Curly. Curly looked his name-sake, only uglier. His fat pot belly hid the fact that he, too, was muscular, with a body almost like a heavyweight wrestler's, (an ugly wrestler). Curly also sported huge arms, even larger than Hank's which were more sinewy, his face was clean-shaven. Only on Curly, some facial hair would have been an improvement, to hide some of his face,(Curly, like Hank, was basically a good person with his heart in the right place, but I must be honest in his physical description). He wore an open necked shirt which was never tucked in. In a word, his clothing suggested a slob, while Hank's was just rough. Like Hank, Curly was outraged by the treatment visited on Paul. "Let's fuck'em up!"

And so the three men went off to the university field house to exact retribution. It was late, and diving practice was almost over....

Paul, the middle-aged victim of a gay beating, Hank, his friend the tough longshoreman, and Curly, the pot-bellied, bald, ugly, and strong friend, all made their way into the field house late at night past the security desk where the attendant was sound asleep. Down the steps the three went and through the hallway leading to the men's locker room. Late night diving practice was just about to end. Soon nine young, well muscled, and homophobic college divers would be entering the locker room to shower, dry off, change, and walk to their dorm on the campus. "Guys, look, we need a plan. Nine to three, and I'm not in great shape either" Paul cautioned the other two. "Yeah, I see...nine to three..gee that means they have us outnumbered by almost three to one." "Shut up, Curly", replied Hank. Hank knew that Curly, a good guy, was not what you would call a mathematician. "Wait, I got an idea..."

"Hey, guys, I need a couple of you to help me move some stuff. Not all of you..just two or three of you." "Who are you? I don't remember ever seeing you around here before?" "Just hired, they gave me the fucking late shift, you know, no seniority around this fucking place!" Thus Hank convinced three of the university divers to come with him into the locker room without the others. "We'll be along soon guys, just finishing up". The six remaining members, including Schmit stayed behind to finish their practice. Then Hank led the three young divers, dripping wet in their swimsuits and shower caps, into the locker room. "I forgot, let me put on my towel, I just have my Speedos on". "So do I, what's the big deal, we'll be done soon". "Thanks, guys for helping me out of a jam. Just around the corner. Past those lockers, over there, see?" The three divers were thus led to a remote corner of the locker room. But when the three got to the corner of the locker room, they were confronted by Paul and Curly. In an instant, the last diver stopped in his tracks, turned around, and BAM! Hank's fist smashed into his face, hitting right on his chin, and knocking the young man out cold on the floor. He was left sprawled, in his Speedos, spread-eagled and on his back.

"Wait! What the fuck is this? Hey, you're the same fucking homo that we worked over before...what are you..." Curly reached out his hands and grabbed the young diver by the throat. The two struggled. "AARRGH!!, (cough, cough,..), I can't breath.." That left Paul,(the "fucking homo that we..") Paul attempted to fight the last of the three, but the young man soon was getting the better of him. Luckily he was saved from getting his ass kicked again by the timely intersession of Hank. The diver was soon knocked out. "That makes two for me, Curly. You're taking too long. Look, we don't want to strangle the kid. Just knock him out". "Okay", with that Curly jerked the young man's neck back and forth, and in one powerful thrust, slammed his head against the concrete wall. The diver's legs crumpled underneath him, and soon he too was unconscious. "How's that?!" Curly was proud of himself. "Don't talk now; there's still six more, including that Eric Schmit kid, a strong dude". Paul cautioned Curly about his bravado.

"Yo..guys, where are you? You're taking too fucking long". The voice came from one of the divers who entered into the locker room to check on his missing three teammates. He wore a large beach towel around his waist, covering his Speedos. He walked closer to Paul, Curly, and Hank, and their three unconscious adversaries. Soon the young diver had advanced all the way to the corner of the locker room, then to the very seen of the confrontation.."what's this!...Hey!!!" He turned to run. Hank leaped into action, and grabbed for the college student's towel. The diver loosened the towel, and it came off into Hank's hands. Running in his Speedos, the young man called out,"Help, help..perverts have invaded the locker room!!" Hank ran after the youth, who had by now reached all the way to the door, leading to the pool. He tackled the diver, and the two struggled. Then the door opened! Another diver heard the commotion and came in. Soon, this kid joined the fight against Hank. It was two on one. "Hey Curly, what the fuck are you doing??!! "Coming, Hank!" Curly arrived, just as a second diver entered the locker room. Now there were three university diving team members battling Hank and Curly. "Come on Paul!!" Paul, stunned, lent assistance. He at least distracted one of the boys long enough,(he picked the smallest one), for his two friends to knock out the other two cold. "That kids a twink, you can't handle him?" Hank reached out, and yanked (note that Hank rhymes with yank), the slightly twinky diver's swimsuit to halfway down his legs, exposing a cute, little white set of youthful buns. "Yo, what are you doing? Hey don't look at my dick!" The youth, with one hand covered his pouch (you can thus guess the size of his jewels) and tried to fight Paul with the other hand. Even middle-aged and out of shape Paul could win a fight under those circumstances. Soon the kid was knocked out. On his back, all could see his tiny wiener. But now the door opened again. It was Eric Schmit, and the last two university divers. They stared in disbelief. "What the FUCK!!" Eric was enraged.

Quickly, an enraged Eric Schmit rushed foreword, and slammed Hank one in his face. Hank was momentarily dazed by the onslaught of the angry and muscular young athlete. He quickly recovered, and the two men were soon trading blows. In the mean time, Paul was getting into trouble with one of the youths, who, while not quite as strong as Eric, was more than a match for the somewhat out of shape middle-aged man. Curly also had his hands full, in a manner of speaking. The diver who attacked him soon found his initial blows to be of little effect on the overweight and freakishly strong if somewhat ugly and bald, Curly. Soon Curly had the tall, Speedo and cap clad athletic youth, with his back turned against his fat belly. Curly's right arm had a stranglehold on the young man's throat, and ignoring his gasping and struggling, Curly kept his other hand busy. The size of Curly's stomach meant that his young opponent had to arch his own back in an arch, with his head far back, and his pelvis thrust far foreword. In his swimsuit the resulting position was just too tempting a target for the big fat Curly's left hand. One hand for choking the other hand for rubbing the young diver's barely covered pouch. Although it was a fight, between gasps for air, the youth was actually moaning!

Hank and Eric seemed to have the only real fight going. Grizzled and mean Hank, with his rough features bruised and beaten by the young Eric's many blows, finally threw himself forward. He got Eric around the waste, and the two men were soon grappling on the locker room floor. It looked like even money. That Eric Schmit could sure fight for a twenty-one year old college kid. But rough and tough Hank, veteran of many a bar fight along the boondocks, wasn't about to give up. As for Paul, the poor man was getting the crap beaten out of him by a cocky kid less than half his age. "Curly, do something!" Curly let go of the diver he was strangling, and the young man's knees promptly buckled leaving him passed out unconscious on the floor. He rolled over on his belly, butt side up. He had an almost perfect youthful frame, strong if long and lanky. He still had his cap on, but his Speedos were part way down, revealing a slight bit of plumber's butt,(if any plumbers had butts like HIS). This prompted Paul's adversary to see the changing tide of events, and make a break for it. Since Curly was blocking the door to the pool, the young man ran in the opposite direction. As he bolted, though, Paul grabbed the back of his swimsuit. He pulled and pulled, then went for the weaker leg openings in the suit. "Rip", the garment was torn to pieces, leaving the well built young university diver nude save his swim cap, and some small shreds of his suit as well as its drawstring. The young man probably could have escaped, but,(or butt?) not accustomed to being seen naked, seemed unable to function. This gave big fat Curly the opportunity he needed to put the diver to sleep, like a baby, and appropriately, in his birthday suit.

One kick to the groin,SMASH,"Ugh!!!" yelled Eric. The chin. POW!!! Then the stomach and balls again. Finally Hank had dispatched that angry young man, Eric Schmit, and now had the very last of the university diving team unconscious. Curly would have helped, but Hank simply didn't want to accept the fact that he needed help taking down a young upstart like Eric. "Good! We got all nine, glory be!" "Now what?" replied Paul to Hank's comment. "We'll first strip them, then tie them up, so they don't give trouble when they come to," was Hank's reply. "Cool!" said Curly. Soon, the seven divers with full suits were stripped completely naked. The two with damaged suits were stripped as well. Lets just say it was interesting work. (Don't you dare have a dirty mind reader! They only undressed the boys; they didn't check out their equipment, or even touch them AT ALL without necessity! The young, unconscious homophobic athletes' bodies were treated with COMPLETE DIGNITY! Okay, I know. I'm full of shit.)

"Paul, check the office by the pool! I saw it when I entered to lure the first bunch! See if they have anything we can use to tie these dudes! Quick, it looks like some of the first ones are waking up!" Paul complied, and soon his efforts were rewarded by several spools of duct tape. "Perfect!"said Hank. "Start tying!" The three quickly rolled their adversaries on their bellies, crossed their hands behind their backs, and wrapped them tightly with the tape. They started with the first three, who were starting to wake up. But it was too late. They only awoke to find their hands bound, and their bodies nude. All nine, even Eric Schmit, found themselves in the same predicament.

Now Paul, beaten by these homophobic university divers, and his two tough friends were in complete control. Hank's plan thus executed its first phase. Now it was time for the revenge part. 
Now the athletic young college divers were all starting to wake up. All nine of them. In the lead, as usual, was blond and most handsome and muscular Eric Schmit. "What the fuck! You fucking homo!" The young student athlete got up and immediately tried to resume his attack on Hank, whom he was sure he could have beaten. Unfortunately, the young man soon realized his nudity and the fact that his hands were now taped behind his back. "Hey, what the fuck is this?!" He struggled with his bounds after getting to his feet. The effort was of course useless. The three friends, Paul, Hank, and Curly enjoyed watching as Eric's penis flopped around during his relentless struggle with the duct tape. In a short while the other youths were involved in similar futile efforts. Several actually began to cry when they realized their total nudity and total lack of any means to conceal it. The constant flexing only made their young bodies tighter and sweatier, and even better eye candy. They were as a rule smooth skinned, all white, Anglo, and wonderfully built. Penises were not really that impressive, though. This only seemed to add to the excitement of Paul, who realized that he was viewing something that these college boys definitely didn't want to be shown. Several of the divers turned around to face the wall, in a hope of at least hiding their penises. This only brought crude comments from their now captors of,"wow!, what an ass!!, look at those butt cheeks!! My rock hard dick is throbbing to get between those!!" Quite frankly, the remarks became cruder and more cruel. The boys had no choice but to now face their tormentors, and endure cruel humor about the pathetic size of their little penises, how they resembled cunts, their lack of much body hair, some of them almost no pubic hair. It was extremely degrading. You could almost feel sorry for the young athletes. Some actually started to sob uncontrollably. Even Eric calmed down, and became more passive, too humiliated to even say anything.