His cruel grin stretched wide, teeth flashing in the harsh fluorescent light, as he loomed over the scene, his broad shoulders and barrel chest casting a long shadow across Jason's sweat-slicked back, making the quarterback feel even smaller, more insignificant.
The coach's massive hand wrapped around his own thick c**k, pumping it with deliberate slowness, veins bulging along the length like twisted ropes, pre-c*m oozing from the slit in pearly beads that he smeared down the shaft with his thumb. He savored this power—the absolute control, the way Jason's cocky, swaggering facade had shattered into whimpering submission under his iron command, the star player reduced to a quivering toy for the team's amusement.
'Pound that ass until he begs for mercy. Show him exactly who's in charge
