Mayhem in a PillChapter 40 Don rsquo t Celebrate in the Locker Room
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The Locker Room free porn video
The Locker Room
By tealights
Synopsis:
He's not supposed to be in the women's locker room... or is he?
WOMEN'S TEAM LOCKERS
I paused at the sign marking the entryway to the locker room and took a
deep breath to gather my courage. As usual, Coach had left the door
unlocked for me and arranged things so I'd be alone this time of day,
but even knowing that, it was still hard not to be a little skittish. I
poked my head around the corner and took a surreptitious look around.
Sure enough, it was empty, just like always. I let myself exhale and
ducked inside.
I crossed the room toward the locker I'd been assigned. As a team locker
room, it was on the small side, but nicer and more invitingly cozy
compared to the utilitarian student amenities in the public gym
upstairs. The room was a warm, carpeted space, lined on each wall with a
row of large wooden cubbyholes belonging to each member of the squad.
Each cubbyhole featured a low, padded bench at the bottom with a clothes
hook and a small locker at shoulder height for storing valuables.
Colorful banners commemorating past victories adorned the walls above.
I found my locker and spun the dial back, forth, and back again, popping
it open with a trembling hand. I worked quickly, placing my phone and
wallet in the locker, then removing my shoes and socks and stashing them
on top of the bench. I'd fallen into a sort of routine after a couple of
weeks in here, but still had to move fast or risk losing my nerve: let
myself in, change clothes, meet Coach for practice, change back and get
out before anyone saw. Coach had carved a sliver of time out of her busy
schedule to arrange this for me and any slip-ups on my part could result
in potential humiliation. If someone caught me in here again... I
shuddered at the thought, refocusing on my task.
I pulled the hem of my T-shirt up over my head and shucked it off.
Before I could toss my shirt in the locker, the solitary quiet of the
locker room was broken by the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. I
froze in terror, my mind flashing back to when Coach had first caught me
in here. Should I run? Feign a heart attack? I was halfway to one
already, it wouldn't be that hard -
Before I could react, a girl stepped up to the cubbyhole two down from
mine. She coolly worked the combination lock and popped her locker open,
going about her business like I wasn't even there. I blinked in
confusion. She had to have seen me, right? Why was she not freaked out
by a guy in the girls' locker room?
Still frozen in fear, I craned my neck to look over at her, trying to
move so slowly as to be imperceptible. She was maybe a year or two older
than me, an upperclassman with the classic, stockily elegant build of a
college gymnast. The type of person who was *supposed* to be in here.
She set her bag in the locker and looked over, as if she'd just noticed
me.
"Oh hey, you must be the new kid."
I nodded dumbly, unable to respond. She casually pulled her top up over
her head and tossed it into her locker.
"If you're late getting dressed out, Coach will flip, you know," she
said with a concerned look on her face.
"But... um, I -"
My brain was having trouble processing the situation. I wasn't supposed
to be in here at all - how was she taking this all in stride?
"Oh, don't worry," she chuckled, her expression softening. "It's nothing
I haven't seen before." Her tone was casual and reassuring, as if I was
just a shy workout partner and not a guy in the girls' locker room about
to take his pants off.
I looked at her hesitantly. If she wasn't already creeped out by me
being here, she definitely would be when she saw what I was wearing
under my jeans. But something about the girl's nonchalant attitude made
me lower my guard. She was right about Coach, anyway - I'd rather face
whatever humiliation I had in store here than give her another reason to
be mad at me.
I swallowed hard and pulled down my jeans. I could feel my face burning
with embarrassment as I revealed my high-cut pink panties and freshly-
shaved legs. I looked up to see the girl smirking as if it was exactly
what she'd expected to see.
"Cute. Let me guess ? you were the one rummaging around in here after
hours last month?"
"Y-yeah... that was me," I confessed, hanging my head. Had it really
been a month already? After Coach caught me in here that night, I'd been
spending almost every afternoon in the gym under her supervision. All
that stretching and doing drills over and over... the days had really
started to blur together.
"Well, I guess you learned your lesson, huh?"
"I, uh ?" My mouth dropped as I looked back over to see her rubbing her
bare breasts with a sigh, her bra unclasped and dangling from one arm. I
momentarily forgot my embarrassment; she was absolutely gorgeous.
"Mm?" She glanced over at me as if she'd forgotten I was there. "Hey,
it's just us girls here, right?" she said with a wink. "Don't worry ?
I'm sure yours will start growing soon," she chuckled, nodding towards
my chest.
Growing...? I stared down at my chest with a frown. My nipples maybe did
look a little puffier than normal, but...
I shot her a confused look. "Wait, what are you talking about?"
She laughed, flipping her ponytail off her shoulder.
"Well, you *are* in the girl's locker room, aren't you?" She asked
sardonically.
I frowned, my face burning again. Before I could respond, the sound of
another locker opening broke the silence. I jumped, turning to see girl
putting her bag away on the other side of the room. When had she come
in? Just then, another girl walked in and started spinning the lock to
open her locker. I watched as another two girls entered, then another
three. Soon the locker room was full of gymnasts chatting casually as
they changed out of their street clothes.
I looked around the room in terror. I was standing in my panties in
front of the entire women's gymnastics team. Had Coach forgotten our
arrangement? Had I messed something up? It was like I'd fallen into a
waking nightmare.
"So, you must be really excited to join the squad, huh?" The girl who'd
been talking to me picked up the conversation as if nothing out of the
ordinary was going on.
"W-what?" I stuttered, struggling to focus through the adrenaline rush
of fear and confusion hitting my brain.
"I mean, it seems like you couldn't keep yourself out of here last
month..." she laughed dryly, stepping out of her sneakers and stashing
them in her locker.
"Oh, no it's not ? I didn't..." I looked around the room anxiously.
Wait, did the other girls all know what I'd done, too? More importantly,
why did none of them seem to be paying any mind to the crossdressing
thief in their private locker room?
The older girl crossed her arms skeptically. "Come on, I'm sure you had
a reason."
"I... I don't know," I stammered. "Coach says that if I didn't want to
be a gymnast I wouldn't have put on a leotard ? "
I grimaced, bringing my hand to my mouth. Why had I let myself blurt
that out? I'd had to repeat that mantra back to Coach so many times over
the last month it practically came out of my mouth on its own this time.
The girl seemed unfazed by my strange confession.
"Maybe Coach is right," she said, knowingly. "So put it on already.
Let's see what all the fuss was about." She crossed her arms
impatiently.
I blinked, hesitating under the pressure of her gaze. Was I really about
to do this? In front of all these girls?
"What, you wanna stand around in your little panties all day instead?"
"No..." I whimpered.
I turned back to my cubbyhole. My leotard ? I'd worn it enough that it
was certainly *my* leotard now ? was right there waiting for me, freshly
laundered and swinging lightly on a clothes hanger. I took it down off
the hanger and nervously turned it around in my hands. I shot my
tormentor a nervous glance as I rolled the sides up and opened the neck
of the suit wide enough to stick my feet through. The girl gave me an
expectant look.
I gulped. I'd worn the thing dozens of times by this point, but now it
felt almost like an entirely new experience. The sound of my pulse was
almost deafening as I stepped into the leotard, acutely aware of the
strange older girl watching me and all her teammates standing by. It was
one thing to wear it in front of Coach, but this was almost too much to
bear.
Breathing hard, I quickly wriggled the bottom of the suit up to my
crotch, then pulled the stretchy material up over my torso and carefully
slipped my arms into the sleeves. I dipped to one side and then the
other, shimmying the scooped neck of the suit up over my shoulders and
into place.
Even with this girl watching me get dressed, I couldn't help but look
down and admire myself once I had it on. The body of the leotard was a
delicate pearlescent lilac sweeping up over my chest in a deep-V
sweetheart neckline. The sleeves and upper half of the suit were made of
a fine mesh that faded from white to a dusky purple to as it ran down my
arms. I adjusted the soft elastic cuffs at my wrists, causing the
constellation of silvery crystals on my sleeves to glint in the light.
"Wow, you tried to steal a competition leo? No wonder Coach was mad,"
the girl laughed.
"Uh, yeah, I guess so," I forced a weak laugh, halfheartedly trying to
cover my shiny torso with my arms.
A couple girls at the other side of the room looked over towards the
laughter and I dropped my head in embarrassment. Somehow this was worse
than standing around them in just my underwear ? my hyper-feminine taste
in gymnastics uniforms was being broadcast loud and clear to anyone who
looked at me. Coach loved to remind me that not only was it a girl's
leotard I'd stolen that night, but it was the prettiest, sparkliest
thing I could have possibly got my hands on. And as much as I hated to
admit it, it still gave me a heady buzz of excitement to wear the damn
thing. God, what did that say about me?
The girl looked me over with a shake of her head.
"Hmm... no, that won't do," she clucked. "Here, I'll show you."
She pulled her shorts down, kicking them to the side, followed by her
underwear. I could barely believe my eyes as her penis gently slipped
out from between her thighs. It was as hairless and creamy soft as the
rest of her; her tiny, empty ball-sack pulled into a taut, smooth purse
underneath. I could only stare, frozen in stunned astonishment. It
occurred to me that as unexpected as it was to see a girl with a penis,
it didn't detract from her femininity whatsoever. She was undeniably
beautiful from head to toe.
The girl shot me an annoyed look and I quickly turned away, embarrassed
to have been caught gawking. I exhaled shakily, my pulse racing. I'd
never been this close to a fully nude woman and her toned, curvy body
was absolutely captivating. An afterimage of her naked body lingered in
my mind's eye even as I stared awkwardly at my feet. There were so many
questions I wanted to ask, but ?
"Here, look."
I looked back up to see her pulling the straps of her leotard into place
over her shoulders. Unlike my prissy purple number, hers was a simple
practice tank leotard in a dark metallic blue with three thick black
stripes running down the sides of her torso. I couldn't help but feel
embarrassingly overdressed next to her sporty, utilitarian look.
"Just tuck it back like this," she demonstrated, reaching between her
legs and pushing her soft member back between her thighs with a
practiced motion.
I followed her example. Despite the weirdly intimate circumstances, my
thing was surprisingly limp and easy to manipulate. A little tug here, a
push there, and soon I had only a subtle mound visible at my crotch.
"See, that's much better, isn't it? Nice and smooth," she said
approvingly. "Now fix your wedgie. You don't want your panties peeking
out like that if you don't have any gym shorts."
She hooked her index fingers under her leotard on either side of her
butt and mimed a sliding motion with her hands. I mimicked the maneuver,
pulling my suit down under my cheeks and releasing it with a snap. My
leotard was now perfectly snug all over. The sensation laid a thick
blanket of pleasure over my brain, dulling my senses.
"Nice. You're a natural," she snickered.
I could only smile dumbly as she stepped over to me and picked at my
suit here and there, making small adjustments to my seams. Satisfied,
she took me by the shoulders and turned me so we both faced the full-
length mirror on the wall nearby. My eyes widened as I took in my
reflection.
How was this possible? I was shockingly androgynous-looking. My leotard
lent a sleek, feminine silhouette to my body and my slightly overgrown
hair could easily pass as a shaggy pixie cut. I blinked in confusion.
Had my face always been so round and soft looking? I shook my head.
Something about the lights in here, maybe. The thrill of standing so
close to a beautiful girl, her hands on my shoulders as we admired
ourselves in tight, shiny leotards was making it hard to think straight.
For a moment I thought back to that evening a month ago when I'd
impulsively snuck into this same locker room. My fascination with these
shiny, stretchy clothes had drawn me in here under a haze of excitement.
Now that I was being forced into wearing a leotard near-constantly, that
haze had become more and more overpowering. Where would this end? My
mind felt so... pliable now. Part of me hated the endless humiliation
I'd brought upon myself, but at the same time, it felt so good to just
let go, to let myself be pushed around and molded into Coach's perfect
gymnast. My mantra floated back up from the back of my mind:
If I didn't want to be a gymnast I wouldn't have put on a leotard...
The girl tousled my hair playfully, rousing me from my blissed-out
stupor. I blinked sleepily, the softly androgynous figure in the mirror
blinking back with a drowsy smile.
"You know, a little makeup and hairspray and you might not look half
bad," she mused, looking over my shoulder with a satisfied grin. "I can
give you some pointers after practice, if you want."
She glanced up at the clock overhead. "Speaking of, we better get out
there. Coach is waiting." She gave my butt a playful pat and strutted
out towards the gymnasium.
I watched her go then looked around the room in a daze. I was alone
again. All the other girls had already dressed out and left. How long
had we been standing there at the mirror? I shook my head to clear the
fog.
Reality came rushing back for a moment. God, what was I doing? I didn't
have to do this. I could just take this stupid leotard off, put my
clothes back on, and get the hell out of here, Coach be damned. I could
give all of this up right now, if I wanted to. It'd probably be easy.
All I had to do was take it off.
I turned back to my reflection, thumbing nervously at the neck of my
leotard. I ran my hands slowly down my body, feeling the thick, shiny
fabric stretching and sliding under my fingers and over my soft skin. My
thoughts drifted back to the night of my break-in ? being discovered by
Coach, striking a desperate deal, learning the mantra... The changes to
my body and mind had happened so slowly but now seemed so obvious. The
inevitable result of my punishment was becoming painfully clear. If only
I could admit to myself that I might actually want it, if I could just
allow myself to be consumed by it...
I quietly closed my locker and took a deep breath.
If I didn't want to be a gymnast I wouldn't have put on a leotard.
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