Judgement Day

By firesix
published January 5, 2019
Summary

The MVP race is closer than Aaron thinks.

Banged this out today, figured I’d share. If you like baseball as much as I do, this one’s pretty blatant, but hey, what can I say? Anyway, be nice, I’m a fragile little woman with little experience. Enjoy, or not… up to you.


This was either the last game of the year or one of the last - Aaron had no real way of knowing. If his team won, he’d go to the World Series. If they lost, he’d go home and wait until next year. And Aaron wasn’t a patient man.

He’d kill for a World Series ring. He wasn’t really the egotistical type, but he’d been carrying his teammates since day one, and if they ended up being the best team in baseball, he’d have had a lot to do with it. It was hard not to get a bit of an ego when people are calling you the king of New York (and you know they’re right). But of course, he didn’t even know if he’d get to the World Series, much less win it, so none of that was a given.

The good thing was that he’d also been nominated for MVP, and that was something he could be sure he’d win. The numbers he’d been putting up would’ve been impressive for a veteran, but he was a rookie. Of course, he couldn’t guarantee anything, but he was expecting it. It’s funny - his main competition was Jason Adams, such a tiny guy that he could probably him lift in the air with one arm. He didn’t even come up to his shoulders. It was a little bit comical.

But whatever. No big deal, nothing spend his time thinking about – he just had to do the best he could for the rest of the season, whether it’s one game left or eight, and whatever happens happens. And Aaron wasn’t the kind of person to hold grudges, or anything. He was a Christian, he loved his family, he valued being polite and all that.

He sighed. He’d gotten himself all riled up anyway. Ugh, think about something else. He tried to turn his focus to something that wasn’t baseball related, something that would calm his nerves, but nothing would come. After all, he was sitting in the dugout before a winner-takes-all playoff game. And on the field warming up right now, directly in front of him, was the only thing keeping him from victory - Jason Adams.

Aaron tapped his fingers on the bench. He wanted to talk to him, at least for a second. Wish him luck. Aaron really did want the best for him, even if he was about to try to kick his ass. And regardless, he’d get to make the guy look straight up just to look him in the eyes. That was always pretty funny.

Come on, Aaron, it’s not his fault he’s short, his head said, but the image still made him chuckle.

So just as he was walking off the field, Aaron came out of the dugout and got his attention.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Jason replied.

“Just wanted to wish you luck, I guess. You’re good, man.”

“Thanks,” Jason said back, grinning a bit. “Good luck to you too. May the better man win.”

“Heck yeah.” Aaron gave him a quick fist bump and headed back to his own dugout. He didn’t really have anything else to say to him. Whatever, though - may the better man win.

The game didn’t exactly start with a bang. When Aaron went up to bat, he was really hoping to hit it out of the park, or at least get a base hit, but he accomplished neither. He had a nasty habit of swinging at everything he saw. And sometimes, when the pitcher knew him well enough, he’d only throw pitches he couldn’t hit. So Aaron swung three times and missed three times and that was it. He walked back to the dugout.

Next at-bat. His team hadn’t scored any runs - the other team had scored 2. The game was nearly halfway over. But there was a guy on first. All he needed was a home run, just one, or a good hit - he never had that much difficulty getting one before.

He swung at the first pitch in the dirt. Gah. Not good. He took a step back, steadied himself, and willed himself not to swing at the next one.

Except he did. He swung and hit it, but it went foul, straight into the stands. Whoever caught it threw it back. Shoot. Don’t swing, Aaron, just stand there this time -

And the pitcher throws the ball -

Shoot! God! He swings all the damn way through, his knee hitting the ground. It was like he couldn’t even control his body as soon as the pitch left the glove, and his arms just swung on their own. You are such an idiot, he tells himself. You’re blowing this game.

He headed back into the dugout grumpily, fighting the urge to punch the water cooler. He was 6’8 and 280 pounds, he’d probably end up breaking the damn thing in half. He watched as almost immediately after, Jason hit one out of the park. It’s 3-0 now.

Great. Just great. Aaron wasn’t even angry - just disappointed. And to the extent that he was angry, he was only angry with himself. Why was he so out of control today? He was completely uncoordinated. He wasn’t even timing his swings.

What is wrong with me today? He wondered. Shoot, shoot, shoot.

He only got one more at-bat, which he wasted again. His arms were basically moving of their own accord at this point, and he felt so sluggish he doubted he could run the bases one way or another. He swung at one last ridiculous pitch, missed, and headed back to the dugout.

His next time up, he was replaced by a pinch hitter, and then the game ended 4-0. Jason Adams went 4-4. Aaron’s team lost, and he lost with them.

There goes the championship.

Ugh.

He sat there with his head in his hands for a little while. He wasn’t going to the World Series; he accepted that. What really irked him was that this was the last game of the year, that this was his chance to go out with a bang, and he struck out every time he came up. He wasn’t sure why he kept swinging. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why he wasn’t heading to the locker room yet, either.

Eventually he got up and went. Some other guys were already done showering, heading out with fist bumps and shrugs. “We’ll get ‘em next year.” Aaron was about to take off his uniform and hop in the shower when he stopped himself - he had something he had to do. He just… wasn’t sure what it was. He looked around confusedly - had he forgotten something in the dugout? He seemed to have everything on him… What was he missing? He stood still for a few seconds, trying to remember what he could possibly be thinking about, before he decided to step outside and head… somewhere. He wasn’t really sure about this, either. But there was definitely someplace he had to be.

He walked through the stadium aimlessly for a little while, not knowing where he was going but somehow knowing how to get there, until he saw a door to his left; one of many, but he knew somehow that this was… the right door. He opened it hesitantly, not sure what he was doing or why he was doing it, and took a couple steps forward. He turned right and immediately came face-to-face with Jason Adams.

“Hey,” he said, looking up and smiling. “You took a while.”

Aaron furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

Jason just grabbed his arm and led him further down the hall, towards what Aaron assumed was the other team’s clubhouse. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was so obediently following the smaller man, but he didn’t think about it that much; it didn’t seem concerning to him. The sound of excited whooping and cheering was getting louder and louder, although the press was probably gone at this point. Aaron felt a pang of jealousy, but it was strangely muted. His brain felt kind of fuzzy.

Jason opened the door and Aaron’s eyes widened. Fuck, they had champagne and everything, they were doing everything he thought he’d be doing. They’d all changed into their regular clothes now and Aaron was suddenly aware of the fact that he hadn’t changed, that he still had eye black on and was dressed in his full uniform. One guy had his shirt off and for whatever reason, Aaron’s eyes kept following him; like there was something strangely fascinating about it. He’d never really… looked at a guy before. Why was it suddenly so appealing to… Wait, why was he here, anyway?

Before he could start to ask questions, he heard someone’s voice. “Look what the cat dragged in!”

“Ah, jeez,” someone else says. “Him? He was so nice, though.”

“Who gives a shit?” Jason returns. “He’s still gonna be nice afterwards. I thought he’d be perfect.”

“He is perfect,” another voice cuts in. “Nice little bit of New York to remember it by.”

“Not exactly little, but other than that, fuck yeah, what you said. You wanna get started?”

“Let’s do it.”

Wait, who had been… Who had just been talking? Aaron tore his eyes off of the man’s bare torso and looked around, but he barely moved at all, even as he was approached by a man who lead him across the room and sat him down on the couch. He cringed when he squeezed his thigh like he was a piece of meat, but he didn’t make any moves to resist.

“What’s… What’s going on?” Aaron managed, fidgeting a little but not moving from his place on the couch. “Why am I here?”

“You’re here so we can have some fun with you,” Jason said from across the room. ”You lose, we win. I’m in control, I call the shots - you sit here and take it.“

“Why can’t I move?” Aaron asked, concern creeping into his voice. “Did you do something? To me?”

“Fuck yeah I did.” Jason walked over and sat down a bench only a couple feet in front of Aaron. “And you performed just like I wanted you to.”

“You… You did that? You made me swing at all those pitches?” Aaron knew what he was saying was ludicrous, but as he sat immobile on the couch in the other team’s clubhouse, it didn’t seem so unreasonable at all. “Why?”

“Well, first of all,” Jason said calmly, unbuckling the belt of his jeans, “you guys lost, so clearly it was effective. We’re going to the World Series and you’re not, and we’re probably gonna win, too. Second, it made you look bad. Everyone who turned on the game, not knowing anything about the sport, they think you’re shit. That’s not gonna help your chances at MVP. And lastly,” he said, pulling down his jeans, “it was fun to watch. Sort of made me wonder whether you were the big man, or if I was.”

“Fuck it, though, whatever.” He slid down his underwear. “Suck my dick.”

Aaron froze. He wasn’t going to - no way, no, he wasn’t going to - to do that. He felt his legs start moving of their own accord, like his arms had when he came up to bat. No, no, he was going to get out of here, he was going to get off of the couch and run out the door - no, he was going to, going to get on his knees and - no, no, no, God, what’s going on? Oh, God, what’s he doing? No, no, no, no - oh God -

Even kneeling, he came up to Jason’s chest. He had to scoot back and lean forward to get his head anywhere near Jason’s dick, and even then it wasn’t a comfortable position. All 6’8 of him bent awkwardly together to suck some 5’6 guy off, but he had to do it - he didn’t have another option - God, no, he did, didn’t he? Couldn’t he just stand up and run?

He willed his body to move with every fiber of his being, and it did. Except instead of getting up, he wrapped his lips around Jason’s cock.

He shuddered with revulsion as he heard everyone around him cheer and whoop. The taste, the taste was strange and uncomfortable, and after taking only two inches he was already gagging. It was six inches and wide, really wide, and his lips were stretched obscenely around its girth. When he felt tears start to come to his eyes, he pulled off.

He took a deep breath, trying desperately not to go down again, but his body didn’t listen. As soon as he took it back in his mouth, Jason whacked him on the head. “Less teeth, you gap-toothed fuck.”

“Oh, relax, he’s never done it before.”

“C’mon, you guys are gonna get a turn sooner or later and if I can give him pointers, I will. He’s lucky he’s hot. He sucks at this.”

“What’d you expect?”

Jason shrugged. “Fair.”

Aaron hated it. Or at least, he tried to. They were talking about him like he was an oversized sex doll, or something. He took it all the way to the balls, until his nose was pressed up against Jason’s stomach, and gagged violently, pulling off with spit all over his chin. He didn’t even complete a full breath before his own body forced him down again.

“You think we can get started with the rest?”

“Go right ahead.”

Aaron groaned as he felt a pair of hands unbuckle his belt and pull his pinstriped pants down violently. He felt someone squeeze and slowly massage the side of his ass, hating the feeling of the cold hand against his skin. He gagged again. His blowjob was getting faster as Jason egged him on, getting a whack on the head every time his teeth scraped against the sides, which was becoming less and less often.

“Hey, he’s getting better!” Jason announced cheerily, running his fingers through Aaron’s close-cropped hair. His eyes watered again, a couple tears running down just-barely-brown skin and smudging his eye black.

“Glad to hear it,” said someone behind him, right before he felt someone’s face bury itself between his firm asscheeks. Aaron felt his body tremble again as he gained the humiliating awareness that his cock was rock-hard in his jockstrap, feeling a tongue lick around the rim of his asshole and then press in. He just kept bobbing his head up and down, though, listening to Jason make satisfied noises every time he did something he liked, and not much longer after that Jason pulled his head off.

“Alright, just jack me off now. I want to cum all over your fucking uniform. Sound like a plan? Never mind, don’t bother answering.”

Aaron felt another tear roll down his cheek as he closed his fist around Jason’s cock and started slowly rubbing up and down. He felt whoever was behind him spit and then pull back, and heard the sound of another belt unbuckling.

“That’s all the lube he gets?” Jason asks, laughing. “Brave.”

“Hell yeah, man, he’s a big guy, he can take it.” He grabs hold of Aaron’s big, meaty thigh, kissing it once. “Can’t you, Aaron?”

Aaron nodded weakly as he felt Jason’s cock throb one last time and explode in a fountain of cum, landing right on the logo on Aaron’s pinstriped shirt. Aaron moaned softly, looking down in shame. There goes his uniform. And he didn’t even get a break, either. Jason fistbumped some other guy as he took his place, pulling his boxers down, and without even being asked, resigned to his fate, Aaron went down on him too.

He felt someone slowly push into him and he winced in pain. It was awful, like he was being torn open, so he just tried to focus on anything else, even on the cock in his mouth, which didn’t bother him as much anymore. Whatever, he heard his mind say, whatever.

As soon as the guy really started thrusting, Aaron started pushing back on it. Surprisingly, it felt sort of good. It was scratching some kind of itch he didn’t know he had. He moaned around the cock in his throat, accidentally scraping it with his teeth again. This guy wasn’t as harsh.

“Yeah, the teeth are a bit of a problem,” he remarked, turning to Jason, who was sitting smugly next to him. “Aaron, man, just try to use ‘em less, okay? I believe in you, buddy.”

Aaron let out a short, barking laugh despite himself. He almost couldn’t believe the way this guy was talking to him, like he was having an off day in batting practice. Oh, God, what is happening?

The guy behind him hit his prostate and he moaned, feeling his legs shake. Oh, that was good. His cock throbbed desperately, aching for some kind of release. Aaron made a desperate attempt to rub it, but his arms wouldn’t obey. He just kept getting thrust into, whimpering like a girl around someone else’s cock. With barely any warning at all, the guy he was sucking off pulled his head back and came all over his face, some of it landing on his uniform as well, and Aaron let out another shuddering moan. The guy in his ass, too, his cock was throbbing and tightening, and Aaron felt the warmth as he came deep inside him. He pulled out triumphantly, patting Aaron on the back, and Jason took his place, already hard again. The worst part was that there was an itch coming back, an urge to get filled again, and he eagerly thrust into it as Jason slowly entered him. God, it was good, it was so good, Jason’s tiny body holding onto his, cock pounding his ass as his oversized body shook with pleasure. There was another cock in his mouth again - he hadn’t even noticed. This was a gangbang, he realized. This was a gangbang in the other team’s clubhouse, and he was at the center of it, getting passed around like a cheap prostitute.

With that thought, he came in his jockstrap.

Everyone else could tell immediately, and Jason whooped in victory. “Look what we did!” he exclaimed, grabbing hold of Aaron’s barely-softening cock. “He loves it! Look, big guy, fucking MVP in the making just came in his fuckin’ underwear. God, that’s incredible.”

Aaron just moaned, feeling his cock stiffen with pleasure again. And as his head was pulled back and someone came all over his uniform again, he lost himself to the bliss.

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