Fisting All-Stars

Danny Parker drops to his knees in Coach Tanner's office, begging with his mouth before a word leaves it. Tanner's hands lock on the wrestler's hips and he spreads him open. The first toy stretches him. The second goes deeper. By the third, Parker's shoulders shake, sweat runs down his hairy chest, and he pushes back for more. Tanner swaps plastic for flesh, feeds him the beads one by one, then curls his fist inside the kid like he owns the place. Parker grunts, nods, takes it all. Uniform straps hang loose. The desk rattles. When Tanner finally pulls free, the boy stays open, hole flexing around nothing. He made the cut.