The Coach

by: Bfboy | Complete Story | Last updated Sep 18, 2009


Chapter 4
New Uniform


Chapter Description: Coach gives the boys some new outfits to match their perspectives.


Coach Taylor couldn’t help but smile at his players’ antics at practice the next day. While waiting for him to come and blow the whistle to start their scrimmage they had taken to chasing after each other in games of tag and wrestling on the ground. By now their behavior was beginning to look odd even to a subtle observer. Coach knew that meant the much more powerful tapes he’d given their parents at the party were doing their job. Since no police had shown up in his doorstep and no parents had called to complain he knew his subliminal tapes were also succeeding in altering the families’ views of their boys. Coach had been a bit worried over the last few days. If his plan was going to fail, it was at this juncture that it was most likely, when he was most exposed. Now that he knew his tapes were working he could safely send the boys a few steps further back into childhood without fear of being exposed.

The practice went well, the boys easily taking the Coach’s orders as usual, basking in his praise and blinking and sniffling when he yelled at them. A couple boys almost burst into tears when he rebuked them for not following his exact directions.

Gabe understood how they felt. It seemed so important to him now that Coach liked him and approved of him. He wanted Coach to know he was a good boy and big and strong too. Every so often he would consider how silly that was, trying so desperately to please Coach, like when he was a little kid in Pop Warner. He should be more concerned about impressing his team-mates, his friends of his own age. But the truth was he really only cared about Coach liking him now. He knew he’d want to cry if Coach yelled at him. His emotions seemed so much harder to control recently. He found himself getting upset yesterday when mom wouldn’t buy his favorite kind of juice at the supermarket because it was too sugary. He’d felt himself getting all worked up and only just stopped himself short of throwing a temper-tantrum in the middle of the store. When he’d suddenly grown aware of the looks of people’s faces at his behavior, he’d wished he could just disappear.

“Get your head in the game boy!” Coach screamed from the sidelines.

Gabe forced his mind back to the task at hand, scared stiff by Coach’s yell.

Coach Taylor watched with satisfaction as Gabe winced and took off running with unusual determination. A clunk to his left distracted him from the game. Christian and Carter were setting down the boxes on the bench. “There ya go sir,” Carter announced.

Coach Taylor nodded. “Very good boys. Now just sit down and wait for the others to be done.”

Both young men nodded eagerly, glad to have done a good job. Then they took their seats on the bench. But Coach frowned and shook his finger at them. “Not there boys, the bench is for the players! You boys go sit in the grass,” he ordered.

The pair immediately leapt off the bench and dropped to the grass sitting Indian style. Coach suppressed a chuckle at their new obedience. They were both dressed more appropriately now, Christian in his baggy jean shorts and green Ben Ten t-shirt, Carter wearing an even more juvenile outfit of fireman red short-alls over a striped t-shirt. Looking thru the boxes Coach Taylor admired the clothing he had bought for the team, their new uniform, so to speak.

After another half and hour Coach Taylor blew his whistle, ending practice. The team huddled up before him, panting and sweating but eager to hear what he had to say. “Good hustle out there boys, you done real good today!”

The boys grinned and slapped each other on the back. Mack gave a little whoop. “Okay boys, now before we go in to the locker room I’ve got some new clothes to get changed into. Your old stuff is a bit inappropriate.”

Several of the guys pouted and few looked downright dismayed. “What’s wrong with my clothes?” asked Jackson.

“Nothing Jackson, but some guys here have been wearing clothing I don’t really approve of. Does anyone want me to say who?”

The team collectively shook their heads, all afraid it was them. “That’s what I thought. Now, we are a team right?”

“Yes coach!” they roared in unison.

“And we wear uniforms on the field don’t we?”

“Yes coach!”

“So doesn’t it make sense that you all wear clothing to distinguish you off the field as well?”

“Yes coach!” they roared again, groupthink now firmly in place.

“Good, now come forward and get your new outfits.”

Coach Taylor could see the looks of confusion and disappointment as he handed out the sets of t-shirts, baggy shorts and such. Soon the boys were all standing around glumly looking thru the garments. Coach shook his head and announced, “Alright boys, I want you to get changed right here, as a team.”

One boy had the courage, or foolishness, to speak up. “But Coach, sir, these clothes are for little kids,” Jeff sulked.

Coach Taylor gave him a stern look. “I don’t want to hear whining boys.”

“But sir, if we change here, anyone can see us,” Gabe nervously observed, looking around at the school buildings.

“Nonsense, look at you guys, look how big and strong you all are. You’ve got nothing to hide. Now hurry up and change so we can go get your shots.”

Furtively the guys began to strip off shirts and pads and slip shorts off. Gabe looked around, feeling so embarrassed by this public stripping down. But the coach knew what he was doing. This kind of shared humiliation must be meant to bond the guys more. He couldn’t be the only one not doing it, he had to do this for the team. As quickly as he could Gabe stripped down to his jockeys. Then he noticed that he’d been given new underwear in his pile. His jaw dropped, it was a pair of cartoon print underoos, covered in images of Elmo and Cookie Monster. Gabe had only worn boxers for years, so tighty whities were bad enough. But ones covered in cartoons! And Sesame Street cartoons at that! It seemed the other guys were hesitating as well. But Coach was talking quietly to Mack now, whispering to him. A moment later, Mack yanked his jockey shorts down and stood buck naked in the middle of the football field. Then he yanked on a pair of Bob the Builder underoos.

“Very good Mack!” the coach announced, “Now let’s see if the rest of you pansies can get dressed like big boys. Or will you keep standing around preening over your outfits like girls?”

No one wanted Coach to call them a girl, and soon all the guys were pulling on underoos and quickly getting on their other clothing. Gabe was soon dressed as well, looking down at the plain red and white striped t-shirt and baggy jean shorts he now wore. Well they weren’t too bad, nothing like the khakis cargo shorts and polo shirts from Abercrombie that he usually wore, but not as bad as the underoos. God it would be awful to be paraded around in public in those embarrassing things, he thought. The other guys were dressed pretty similarly to Gabe except for a few wearing particularly childish outfits. Mack for example was wearing blue-jean short-alls and no shirt at all. It showed off his powerful chest and legs but had no other redeeming features. Oddly though, Mack looked perfectly content in his new outfit while others were looking around furtively, blushing. Coach was walking around looking them over and handing out new shoes. “Very good Gabe, you look much better this way kiddo,” he commented to the captain, handing him a pair of flip-flops.

Gabe said nothing and slipped the flip-flops on, feeling a bit embarrassed about them. He’d always made fun of guys who wore flip-flops, told them they looked like girls in them. But even worse, these ones had bright designs on them like a kid’s would. Looking around he saw that the new footwear all had a common element. Some guys had flip-flops, others sandals and a few had sneakers with little lights in the soles. But none of them had laces, the sneakers had Velcro too, like little kid ones. Now Gabe understood, this was Coach’s solution to the shoe-lace problem they had after their shots left them muddle-headed for a bit.

Coach Taylor stood back and admired his handy-work with great satisfaction. “Okay guys into the locker room for your shots now!” he ordered, watching the guys rush eagerly off the field.

It wasn’t long before brain-addled boys were skipping cheerily out of the locker room again, no longer in the least concerned by their new outfits. Coach was pleased with the results. The newest set of shots he’d just given them was more powerful than the rest. The giddiness and silliness would pass after a couple hours but this time the mental damage would be much more augmented and quite permanent. The boys would continue to have moments of self-awareness and even full lucidity, however brief they were, until the program was completed. But mostly they would have the mental abilities of a 5 or 6 year old from now on. Of course they’d still know they were teenagers and would remember being older, but the tapes would help them adjust more over the next couple days. By the time they came back for their next session they’d likely be behaving more like preschoolers than teens.

Coach Taylor waited until the last boy had left before turning to go back in his office. But upon entering the room, he was greeted by an odd sight. It was one of his junior coaches and though he had received his shot willingly only moments ago, he did not look happy.

 


 

End Chapter 4

The Coach

by: Bfboy | Complete Story | Last updated Sep 18, 2009

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