Queer Benefits for Wealthy Booster

NOTE: This story contains several taboo topics such as non-consent, dubious consent, drugged/mind control, and age gap.

- - -

The swim meet was almost concluded. Mr. Charles sat discreetly in the back of the stands, watching intently at 18 year old senior, Eliot. The young man was slim, lean, and nearly naked in his very brief speedo. The revealing little, golden-yellow swim suit accentuated his pert ass and nice package.

Mr. Charles was a big donor at the school and especially interested in the sports programs. As such, certain authorities at the school were obliged to afford him a level of privilege. He intended on calling in a request very soon.

- - -

Eliot pulled himself from the pool, water cascading over his slender, toned body. He received a few casual pats on the back as he trotted towards his towel.

"Hey, Eliot, good effort out there," Coach said. "You did great."

"Thanks, Coach," Eliot replied as he dried himself off and removed his swimming cap.

"Eliot, I need to talk to you in the locker room."

The teenager couldn't imagine what this was about, but didn't put much thought to it as he followed Coach into the empty locker room.

"Here, have a drink." Coach offered Eliot a purple sports drink and the teen took a few swigs.

"So what's up, Coach?"

"Eliot, I have a very important responsibility for you tonight. We have a booster who's basically responsible for the entire swim program here. Mr. Charles. He's an odd duck, but we need to keep him happy."

"Oooo-kay? What's that got to do with me?"

"I need you to entertain him tonight," Coach said.

"Entertain him? What the fuck does that mean?"

"He's a weird old man. Just keep him company." Coach put an arm around Eliot's shoulders and started ushering him out the locker room, the back way. "I'm sorry to spring this on you so abruptly, Eliot. It's super important that you do everything he asks."

As the older man led his barely-clad student onward, Eliot began to worry.

"If we don't make him happy, he could pull his support. He might even take his money to Springfield High. That would be a disaster for us, Eliot." They reached the exit and Coach went for the door.

"Wait, Coach, I'm not dressed!" Eliot objected. He gestured to himself as if he needed to remind the man that he was still only wearing his little speedo.

Coach patted Eliot's bare chest and said, "It's part of the package, I'm afraid." His hand slipped over the teenager's developed chest, down to the curves and valleys of his developed abdomen. "This is how Mr. Charles wants you." Eliot wasn't a body builder or a super-hero, but he was in great shape. He had a naturally slender build and he worked it just right to maintain a good physique.

Yes, his body was peak, but his mind was reeling. His stomach churned where Coach's hand rested. "But... What about my parents? They're gonna be waiting for me. The meet's not even over." He was practically pleading now. Coach opened the door and Eliot found himself standing in the dark parking lot wearing just his speedo.

"I'll take care of that. You just focus on Mr. Charles. There he is, right there." He pointed to a nice car not too far away, then pushed Eliot forward.

As the confused youth walked along, bear flesh exposed, Coach called after him, "Remember, this is for the whole team. For the whole school!"

Eliot looked over his shoulder at Coach as the door closed. As he approached the car, the passenger side door opened. He sure hoped this was the right car. He didn't want to accidentally get in the wrong car dressed like this. Or rather,undressed. Wearing this little, showing off practically his whole body for the swim team was no problem. But this change of venue was unnerving and made Eliot feel vulnerable.

He approached and bent over to look into the car.

"Hello, Eliot. I'm Mr. Charles. Please get in."

Eliot's heart sank. He took his seat and pulled the door shut and it felt like he had just closed his own prison cell. He was in some stranger's car, just a small slip of damp fabric to poorly cover his privates and butt.

"We're going back to my house. I'm eager for us to get to know each other." Eliot felt the man's eyes raking across his body. Mr. Charles seemed elated as he traced the curves and mounds of Eliot's fit form, each contour highlighted by the harsh parking lot lamp posts.

"You're just as amazing up close as you are from the stands."

Eliot wanted to sink into the seat and disappear. He didn't like the man's odd gaze at all. Thankfully, Mr. Charles turned forward to get his car started. Unfortunately, now Eliot was trapped, doomed to who knows what tortures? As the luxury car drove away from school, Eliot's heart beat faster. What had Coach gotten him into?

Not too far down the road, Mr. Charles glanced over at Eliot. He moved one hand away from the steering wheel over to the boy's thigh. The hand glided up and down Eliot's smooth, bare skin, sending shivers through the anxious young man.

"So firm," he commented, squeezing Eliot's leg. "And hairless. I'd be happy to sponsor a team shaving party at my house any time." His hand slipped all the way up Eliot's thigh to the edge of the teenager's speedo. His fingers snaked along the inner thigh, nuzzling at Eliot's mounded pouch.

The teenager's breath hitched as the fingers brushed on his balls. Mr. Charles moved back and forth over Eliot's thigh, digging deeper between his legs, pressing the side of his hand more firmly at the boy's basket. The stranger was touching his junk! Alarm bells sounded his head, but Eliot was frozen.

"You're just the most beautiful person I've ever seen," Mr. Charles said. "Do you get many looks from other guys on your team?"

Eliot had to admit that some of the other guys did check each other out. When you're dressed like this, and you're a horny teenager, skin is skin, so you're going to take a look. "Sure, I guess," he confessed quietly.

"Ooh, tell me. Who do you think is sneaking a peek at you in the locker room?"

Eliot was so off balance already, from his disadvantaged outfit, the hand at his groin, and now these questions. He normally wouldn't entertain such talk, but his right to decline seemed void in this man's presence.

He thought about his teammates, and which ones might like to get a closer look at his bod. The boys didn't make a habit of using the shower facilities in the locker room, but once in a while, one or more of them might be found there, naked and lathering up. Once, Eliot had to go out right after practice, so he decided to shower at school. He remembered looking out into the locker area and seeing several teammates looking back at him. He hadn't thought much of it at the time but...

"Jason and Calvin," Eliot said. "I think they like looking at me and the other guys."

"How old are they?"

"I think they're both 18."

"Very nice," Mr. Charles said. He continued to stroke at the boy's leg as he interrogated him.

"Have you ever admired your teammates?"

He felt his face growing hotter. He didn't like to acknowledge it, but he did indeed have a wandering eye. He liked the taller skinny guys on the team. He noticed they always had the biggest bulges. And if he was lucky, he'd get a glance at one of their big dongs flopping loose while changing.

"Yeah. I look at Calvin. And Tim, too. He's 18, too. They're both pretty tall and skinny, but..."

Why was he spilling his guts like this? Why was he even thinking about this shit? His head was getting all messed up.

"... But they both have big dicks. I dunno how they fit in their trunks."

"So you admit to being curious? You like looking at other guys?"

"Yeah. I kinda think... that's why I joined the swim team. To be around other dudes wearing nothing but their speedos." That was quite the confession! Where the fuck did that come from?! Eliot was feeling foggy. His inhibitions waned and any weak defiance he possessed evolved into willingness.

"That's very good to hear, Eliot." His hand boldly moved right to the front of the speedos, lining his fingers along Eliot's inflated sausage.

Fuck!Eliot thought.When did I start getting chubbed up?!

"Nnnnnn," he hummed at the stranger touched him. He closed his eyes and lay his head back. Without thinking, he spread his thighs apart wide.

"You like when I touch you, Eliot? Even though we just met?"

"Feels good, Mr. Charles."

"Good," he said. Taking advantage of Eliot's openness, he slipped his hand down between the boys's thighs, cupping his balls, and moving south to his perineum.

"Oooooh," Eliot cooed. The stranger was putting pressure on his taint and it made his cock jump and his asshole quiver.

"This is just how I wanted you, Eliot, the man said, moving his hand back to the big lump up front.

"I'm in control now. You're happy that your coach sent you to me, aren't you? You're happy to be here in my car, alone with me, offering yourself to me? You're glad you didn't get to change into your clothes. You like when people look at your body. You like wearing a speedo because you can show off this beautiful shape." For emphasis, he moved up Eliot's tight abdomen, up to his fit chest.

"Mmmmm, yes. Yes, I want that," Eliot said, as if in a trance. I want you to look at me. I want everyone to see my body and to touch me like you're touching me."

"This is good, Eliot. I'm please that you feel this way. I've driven into town. I want you to get out of the car and walk along here. I'll be parked two blocks up. Meet me there."

Eliot opened his eyes and saw that they were parked in front of a row of shops and restaurants. It was a Wednesday night, so it wasn't too busy, but there were still a number of people who saw him get out of the car and walk calmly in the dark down the sidewalk. People in the restaurants peered out the front widow at the strange boy wearing only yellow swim briefs. Some even noticed the conspicuous bulge in front.

All in all, there were only about a dozen onlookers in the end, and most assumed it was some kind of social media prank and didn't want to get involved. But Eliot was aware that he was being seen. He was exhilarated that strangers were seeing his hot, teenage body. He was proud of his physique and it made him feel good when people looked at him.

He spotted Mr. Charles' car and headed for it. Once inside, the man inquired about the experience.

"I see you're growing here," he said as his fingers again found his big hotdog hiding in Eliot's speedo. "Does showing yourself off make you excited?

"Yeah," Eliot said, opening himself for the man, spreading his legs and sliding down on his seat. "When the people saw my body, I got hard. And then I thought of them seeing my boner and I wanted to stay out there and show them. I wanted them to see it."

"That's a good craving, Eliot," Mr. Charles said. He rubbed on the boy's bulge, touching the small spot of precum that had seeped through the yellow fabric. Eliot shuddered at the contact on his sensitive knob.

They drove off and were on the road for another 20 minutes. The man helped himself to Eliot, taking glances and copping feels as often as he wished. And Eliot welcomed the man to partake of his gorgeous body.

The car slowed and pulled in past a gate and up a long driveway to a very large house. Mr. Charles exited the car and Eliot followed, walking up the pathway to the front door. The older man turned often to ogle his younger companion. They way Eliot's thick snake moved in his speedo when he walked... it was heavenly.

They entered the foyer and Eliot's eyes went big. He was amazed at the size of the place. It was cavernous. Grand staircases, wide open galleries, tall windows through the back rooms that looked out onto the lit topiaries in the garden behind the house.

"Come along," Mr. Charles beckoned. Eliot dragged himself away from the sights to follow his wealthy patron through a maze of rooms. As they traveled, Eliot's calm demeanor was hedged in by a growing unease.

They settled in a cozy, carpeted room with a single plush chair. Mr. Charles stood close to Eliot, his large hands on the teen's body. Eliot looked up at the man, realizing how much bigger he was. Tall and broad-shouldered, Mr. Charles cut an intimidating figure over Eliot's shorter, lean self.

"God, you're beautiful," the man said, his hands roving across the boy's bare flesh. He backed off, sat in the chair, and had Eliot stand up in front of him.

Eliot looked down at Mr. Charles, whose eyes were busy roaming all over the teenager's streamlined frame. Eliot felt dirty, showing himself off to this man. He had walked down the street like this and really gotten excited, but something had changed since then, like a magic spell wearing off.

Mr. Charles' hands came up to Eliot's thighs, moving upward and tracing the "V" to his hip bones, then across his lean abdomen, snaking over his ribs and up to nicely outlined pecs. He moved along the gently rising collarbones to his defined shoulders, which sloped down to his long, slender arms. This led his wandering grip around back to clasp onto the twin mounds of his ass. An agitation was rising within Eliot as the lascivious old man handled him. Those hands all over him, testing every curve and groove of his vulnerable body, making Eliot self-conscious.

Seemingly satisfied, the man sat back. Despite his growing reservations, Eliot's swim briefs were feeling tighter and tighter all the time. But that problem would soon be dispensed with.

"Magnificent," Mr. Sanders said with awe. "It's time to reveal yourself fully, Eliot."

The boy understood. He was already 95% naked. So much of himself was revealed to this stranger's eyes. And even more was accessible to his groping touch. Mr. Charles had been treated to a buffet for the past 40 minutes, since their first meeting in the parking lot. But this last shred of dignity and privacy, his tiny swimwear, it felt like a suit of armor. Giving it up would mean defeat.

And yet, Eliot found himself peeling down his snug speedo. As the garment dropped, so did his heart. And then, his cock and balls were out and his ass exposed. The little slip of fabric fell down to his feet and he kicked it off.

Eliot, 18 years old, senior at Central High School, a top athlete of the swim team, was completely naked, standing right in front of Mr. Charles, the very rich, very important benefactor to said school, a man over three times Eliot's age.

Eliot nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other, holding one arm across his frontside in an attempt at modesty. But his cock wasn't covered. It was popping out from his smooth groin. It arched out from his body, swollen and fat, semi-hard. His nutsack hung below, devoid of hair. (Eliot was thorough with his shaving routine for swimming.)

Mr. Charles outstretched a hand towards the shy high school student. His fingers dragged along the soft skin of Eliot's rapidly growing cock. The teenager flinched at the contact, but fought the urge to step back.

"This is really quite a handful already. I can't wait to see it hard." He closed his hand around it, feeling it swell up in his gentle grip.

Simple contact with Mr. Charles' hand was enough to cause Eliot's prick to spring right up. Within moments, the old man's hand was gliding up and down a pole over seven inches in length, thick as a banana, and stiff as a board. Eliot was totally hard now, but feeling really weird about this strange man touching him like this. He fidgeted, and Mr. Charles could see the fret painted on his youthful face.

"Here, please have a drink of this." From a side table, he retrieved a sports drink and handed it to Eliot. It was the same purple kind Coach had given him back in the locker room. Eliot, whose mouth was dry with apprehension, took it up to his lips and chugged a third of the bottle.

The embarrassment he felt from standing there naked with a hard-on faded away. His aversion to this stranger touching his naked body subsided. Eliot was once again keen to admit Mr. Charles into the Eliot Playground. He stood confidently, hands at his sides as Mr. Charles fondled his tight swimmer's bod. He liked the attention. Mr. Charles' desires for him made his cock ever harder.

"Let's take this outside," Mr. Henderson announced. He stood and took Eliot by the wrist to lead him through another series of opulent rooms. Eliot's big teen dick waved back and forth stiffly as he walked. Being so casual about his nakedness and his erection was an unusual experience for him. He followed this stranger through his house and then outside, all while absolutely nude and sporting a hard-on. How exhilarating!

Small jolts of embarrassment shot through him if his thoughts lingered on the facts: that he was in a foreign environment, with an older, powerful man he didn't know, stripped of the one little safeguard that he had started with. He was at Mr. Charles' mercy. But the emotional turbulence ebbed as unknown forces coursed through him, taking hold of his psyche. These forces pushed away thoughts of inhibition and skepticism.

They were soon outside, the night air cool on Eliot's skin. They trod along a lit path through rich gardens, which opened up into a pool area. Mr. Charles looked at Eliot, admiring how the light from the pool played on the bare boy's fit contours.

Formerly conflicting ideas were setting and resolving inside Eliot's mind. Antiquated, self-preservative notions were replaced by a new, reckless freedom via submission. Eliot's erect cock, arcing up from his groin, was to be celebrated. His youthful body needed to be see. Autonomy over this tight, toned flesh didn't belong to him. It belonged to the world. Eliot's duty was give himself over to someone who could make use of his gifts. Submitting himself to Mr. Charles' whims was good and just. The older man had the right and obligation to strip Elliot down, to touch him, and to use him.

And that's just what Mr. Charles did. He traced along the fit student's nakedness. Just a short time ago, Mr. Charles was leering at Eliot from the shadows of the stands. And now, the young man was here on his estate, in all his glory, waiting for the next order.

"Open my trousers," he said. Eliot obeyed, unbuckling, unbuttoning, and unzipping. The young man was greeted with a large bulge in Mr. Charles' underwear.

"Take it out."

Eliot was intimidated. He had somehow grown comfortable with Mr. Charles' attention, but he had never himself touched another guy. Was he scared? Excited?

His hand went under the waistband and found the man's meat. It was big. The skin was silky, but beneath was hard as stone.

His heart beating fast, Eliot pulled the front of the underwear down and hefted Mr. Charles' tool out into the open.

Sprouting from a mass of dark, curly hair, Mr. Charles' cock rose up, big and hard.

"Look at that," Mr. Charles said. "I'm already hard for you, Eliot." Truthfully, the old man had been erect since watching Eliot at the swim meet. He was a true appreciator of the young adult male form and Eliot was a prime specimen.

His cock was a darker brownish-reddish color. The shaft was long and thick, bigger than Eliot's. Bulging veins snaked across the surface here and there. A beacon of the man's excitement, the deep pink-red glans peeked from under taut foreskin. Eliot was circumcised and had never seen a hard-on with foreskin. He reached up and held the shaft, pulling lightly towards the base. The foreskin pulled back, revealing the flared base of the glans and the front cleft.

Eliot's thumb went to that place. He desired to study the ridges and lines of the swollen cap. It was a little pliant, but more firm. His thumb crossed the small opening and Mr. Charles shivered. A glistening gem appeared, and Eliot touched it. As he brought his finger away, the clear liquid narrowed into a strand that connected him to Mr. Charles' cock-head. Eliot's own boner was throbbing in reaction to Mr. Charles' big dick.