Tyler's Big Game Plans

As Jack O'Leary wondered briefly what his plans were that night, Tyler Whyte was certain of what needed to be done tonight.

First and foremost in his mind was the big game. It had been a long, brutal season of football for the Clearwater Piranhas. As the male league's first season, all eyes were on them to see if they'd be able to fight hard and get their place among the Titans. And god knows, they had. Tyler had helped lead the Piranhas to victory against the Cullamore Bobcats, the West High Guntakers, the St Brian's Mantis Shrimp and even the Erasmus Centaur-Dragons.

Now, they had one last fight left for the Championship. The Evon College Outlaws had fought hard to end up at the top of the cup, but it was no surprise they were there. They'd won most of the last decade's championship matches, and never once failed to place higher than the top five teams. They were a serious threat.

Tyler had been sure to ready his team for tonight. Steroids were easily gotten to fuel their training sessions, as was the attempts to demoralize the enemy team by personally fucking as many of their girlfriends' as he could to destroy their hopes of victory, and of course, the wild claims he'd make to his teammates of how each and every Outlaw was a son of a bitch who needed to be defeated.

Of course, somewhere in the back of his mind was the satisfaction that would come. If he was lucky and did well, the satisfaction of destroying the Outlaws' hopes and dreams, of driving them to the depths of misery. Either way, he had plans for tonight. There was a myriad of sluts available to him at Clearwater, not even taking into account the amount of bitches horny for the team captain. Even Tyler, for as much as the whores disgusted him, had a favourite.

Caoimhe.

Caoimhe was a nerd and a drama freak. She had a play on tonight, but Tyler had been sure to erode that as much as he could. A few bribes, promises, threats, schemes and "accidents" had left the play as a broken affair that eventually had to be cancelled due to safety concerns. That had a number of purposes: to ensure she'd be free for his use this night, to make sure the audience for his victory tonight would be giant, to further drive down Caoimhe's self-worth, and of course, to rub the salt into the little faggot Jack's wounds.

Caoimhe and her slutty friends would be left sad and depressed after the play, eager for a pick-me-up. He'd managed to convince Beth pretty easily to become his big fat slut, so he could pass her around between his friends to have cum dumped in every single one of her holes. All he'd had to do was lower her self-confidence a little and then her tiny little whore friend came along as well, ready to be broken in and trained on how to be a fuck toy. He'd lure them to the after-game celebrations, and then... then he could remind them of the sluts they are. He could ensure they knew their places.

First, he'd have to win, of course.