Sports Medicine

The atmosphere in the locker room what not at all what Kelli had expected. Instead of a jovial, celebratory vibe, each of the player sat on a bench disrobed to varying degrees, each with a miserable look on their faces. You'd think they'd lost the game by the way they were acting!

All eyes snapped up as Kelli and Jon walked into the room. Not a word was said as the pair moved quietly between the rows of benches. The scent of body odor hung heavily in the air, something that reminded Kelli of gym class when he was younger.

Midway through the room, Kelli and Jon froze as the door noisily banged shut behind them.

"Well boys, you done good," it was the coach's voice. Kelli turned to watch. He'd seen inspirational speeches many times in sports movies, and he was excited to see one in real life, "Them other guys're gonna go home and like their wounds. Way to go!"

It was a rousing, well articulated, and inspired speech, to be sure. Kelli felt his heart soar at it's oration. Not only was the team well coached, well trained, but to have their leader be so eloquent as well? They were the luckiest football team in the world!

What confused him was the response. Instead of leaping to their feet, throwing their coach on their shoulders, the players sat on their benches and moaned miserably. Each man, instead of watching their coach, had their eyes locked on Kelli and Jon, most had their hands on their groins, rubbing what looked like painful protrusions. Had they been injured by the gameplay? Sports medicine was a big field. Kelli's uncle Stephane was a doctor who worked almost exclusively on injuries caused by sports, and had encouraged Kelli to pursue it when he graduated high school.

Kelli's grades, though, were nowhere near high enough to achieve admittance to medical school. He wasn't doctor material, something he regretted as he stared at these poor athletes, all suffering so profoundly.

"Please, sir," Jon's voice cut the silence, pulling Kelli out of his thoughts, "your players are suffering."

Kelli looked at his roommate, doing what he did best, taking the lead. He admired that about Jon. So strong, so confident.

"Of course they are, whore," the coach answered, "You two skanks walk into their locker room, showing off your bodies like five dollar hookers, how else are they supposed to feel?"

Another electrifying speech. Where did this coach find them? Did they come naturally to him, or did he practice them at home in front of the mirror? Whatever the case, Kelli felt his spirit leap at the man's words.

"I'm so sorry, sir," Jon continued, "We didn't mean any harm. We want to help."

"Well you know what the problem is," the coach said, "get to work."

It was an allocution that could have launched a fleet of ships. And to think that Kelli and Jon were amongst the few that had the pleasure and privilege to hear it. Kelli knew that he would treasure the memory for the rest of his life.

Jon, on the other hand, was once again far ahead of Kelli. Already Kelli's roommate had grabbed a towel from a shelf, thrown it onto the ground between the benches. After kneeling down on the towel, he looked up at the players and spoke through his puffy painted lips.

"I can see you're suffering, boys," he said, "Come on over and let me take care of you."

There was a mad scramble as players leapt to their feet, rushing over to Jon. Since the location of their injury was in their groins, shoes, then pants, then underwear were quickly discarded, tossed unceremoniously aside.

Then Kelli saw it. On each player, right in their groin, was a huge banana-like bulge. He had heard of sprains, breaks, dislocations, but this type of injury was far beyond anything he'd seen before. Was it some sort of hernia? Whatever it was, most of the men couldn't keep their hands off of them. They slowly rubbed their fingers up and down the protrusions, pointing them at Jon as they got closer and closer.

Of course, there were far too many men for Jon to be able to help on his own, so Kelli grabbed a towel and knelt down on the ground nearby, far enough so that the men could crowd around him as well, but close enough that Kelli could keep an eye on Jon's innovative treatment regiment.

"That looks so uncomfortable," Jon cooed.

Kelli's roommate reached out with both hands and grabbed the injuries of two of the men. Both men sighed in relief. Was it that easy? Just grab the men and they'll feel better? Kelli had to try it.

Reaching out with his own hands, Kelli felt two of the protrusions. They were hot, they were hard. Kelli was sure he'd never felt or seen anything like them before, but he didn't mind. Life was all about new experiences.

The men Kelli grabbed sighed, just like Jon's men did, but then they stepped closer, thrusting their groins slightly up and down in his hands. Out of the corner of his eye, Kelli could see that Jon had started massaging the men, holding their injuries in his hands, while rubbing them up and down. Kelli even saw Jon spit into his hands to give himself some lubrication, which was an ingenious and inventive use of his resources.

Without missing a second, Kelli followed suit, spitting, rubbing. The men groaned in relief, one of them even shuttered. The treatment, so far, was turnout out to be resoundingly successful. The only thing that worried Kelli was that there were so many other men not being treated.

Then it occurred to Kelli that he didn't have to think so straight forward. Yes, he was using his hands very effectively, but he was made up of more than hands! When Kelli was a child and was injured, hadn't his own mother kissed his injuries to make him feel better?

"Come to Kelli and let me kiss your boo-boo better," he said to the big man standing in front of him.

Kelli was so glad to see that the man knew what he was offering. He stepped up to the kneeling Kelli and held his injury right up to Kelli's lips. Without stopping the movement of his hands, Kelli began to kiss the banana-like thing from top to bottom. Even the sac that hung below it got Kelli's attention, as he let his tongue play with it, trying to bring some relief.

"Yessssssss," the man sighed as Kelli helped him with his injury.

Encouraged, Kelli took it a step further. His treatment with his hands was helping so much, he decided to duplicate it with his mouth. Taking some liberty, without asking if it was alright, he opened his mouth and slipped the large hot and hard thing inside, closing his lips around it like a seal, and moved his head up and down, sucking to replicate the actions his fingers were so good at.

Even though he was busy, Kelli could see that Jon had figured out the same technique. Of course, being Jon, he'd been even more forward-thinking. Kelli's roommate was busy using his hands and his mouth, but had also incorporated his hair, which one man had wrapped around his injury and was furiously pumping, getting relief with every rub.

All round the two kneeling friends, the rest of the team had seen the treatment that was so effective and had started copying. Each man had their injury in their hands, rubbing up and down, aiming them at Kelli and Jon, just to make sure that the two could watch and supervise their medical interventions. Being treated unsupervised would be unwise, after all, and could just lead to more injuries.

After a few minutes of work, Kelli realized that they were making serious progress. In both hands he could feel a wet discharge start to seep out of the end of the injuries. In his mouth, too, he could taste the discharge. While he lacked the experience and training that his uncle would have in that sort of treatment, Kelli took it as a good sign. These men would soon be out of the woods and be ready to celebrate their victories.

Then, in his left hand, things changed dramatically. Instead of a soft flow of liquid, a jet of hot liquid shot out of the end of the injury, blasting him in the face. Shot after shot of it blasted out. Then, in his right hand, the same thing happened! Jets of hot substance coated the right side of his face.

As soon as that abated, in his mouth, the injury he had been sucking on joined the other two and blasted that same substance into his mouth and down his throat, in such volumes that it began to leak down the front of his face. It's taste was surprisingly pleasant, a happy side effect of being so helpful.

And then the floodgates opened.

Every injury on every man surrounding Kelli erupted like volcanoes. Kelli closed his eyes as he felt himself being covered. His hair, his face, his cheerleader outfit, all were coated in the stuff. He could feel it running down his body, between his breasts, down his stomach, onto his legs. He didn't know what the stuff was, but it felt amazing! The smell, the feel, and the taste were wonderful. He released the two injuries he'd been working on, let the injury slip out of his mouth, and began to rub his body all over, enjoying the feeling of the discharge rubbing into his skin.

A few minutes later, Kelli opened his eyes. He had never felt so great. He'd been helpful, he'd been a team player, and he'd been rewarded so generously.

Across the room, Jon was equally coated, and looked equally as pleased. This vacation was incredible. Two men, on a resort island, cruising for chicks, ending up in such a fortuitous situation. How lucky could one man get?

"Thank-you, boys," Jon said, climbing to his feet, "I hope we've made you feel a little bit better."

The men all laughed at that. Kelli didn't get the joke, but he didn't care. They were happy! They felt relief. As far as Kelli went, they'd done the job they were supposed to do, and at the same time spread a little joy.

And even though Kelli was still sure that he didn’t have the aptitude for a career in medicine, with what he accomplished in that locker room, he was sure that his uncle would be proud of him.