“Are you sure this'll help my game?”  Eddie looked at John's face, then Trey's, for signs of deception.  The brown mutt's tail tucked low and he took a step towards the front of the locker room.
	John smiled at Eddie with all the sincerity he could manage―which wasn't much (but still enough).  “If anything else worked as well, I'd have clued you in when the season started.”
	Eddie's leg stopped,  shifted back to where he had stood before.  “And you swear that they do this at the Big Ten schools?”
	“You know my brother attends a Big Ten,” said Trey.  “How do you think I heard about it?”
	“Yeah.” Eddie's flattened ears began to rise from where they'd plastered against his skull.  “Your brother's a great lineman.”  
	John rested his heavy paw on Eddie's shoulder.  “We didn't believe it at first, either.  But if you think about it, it's not any weirder than shit you can buy at a gym.”  The tiger hoped that Eddie wouldn't actually think very hard about it.
	Trey slid his varsity jacket off and set it on one of the benches.  The rabbit put himself between the dog and the exit as he stepped closer to Eddie.  “Thing is, John and I wanted to do everything we could to make this school tops in our division.”
	Eddie nodded, and his tail swept behind him in a slow wag.  “And we are!  Only one loss this season.”  
	“Sometimes you need to go to extremes to be a winner, Eddie,” said Trey.
	“'Winning is about more than practice,' yeah, just like Coach says.” said Eddie.  
	“Right!”  John snapped his fingers.  “See, you get it.  We see you putting in the work at practice.”  He kept his voice low and encouraging as he returned his paw to the freshman's shoulder and pushed down.  
	Eddie 's shoulder flinched, but yielded to the gentle, insistent pressure.  “You guys keep me motivated.  I want to get as good as you.”  His eyes gleamed as he looked up at the seniors with admiration.
	Trey's fingers slid down to the growing bulge in his jeans.  He popped the button on his 501's.  “Then you're ready to do anything to be a winner.”
	“I want to win,” said Eddie with more conviction than he'd shown since John dropped his idea on the little mutt.  He didn't need any more urging to get down to his knees.
	“And you're gonna.”  Trey hooked his tighty-whities below his fuzzy, tan sac.  Already three inches of slender cock had pushed into the damp locker room air.   
	John nudged the back of Eddie's head, pushed the canine forward slightly.  “You already know the position.  You know, 'down, set, hut,' and all that.”
	“Yeah,” mumbled Eddie, although it was Trey's crotch he said it to.  When the head of Trey's prick bumped the dog's lips, his white muzzle parted to let it inside.
	“Fu―ahhh.”  Trey tried, but failed to even get out a single, profane word when Eddie surrounded his dick in wet heat.  He humped forward just a bit and found that Eddie didn't resist.
	“Holy shit, he's really―”  John stopped, started again.  “Really going to turn your into a star player.”  The tiger dropped down and worked his fingers at the clasp keeping Eddie's jeans hanging off his tail.
	Eddie pulled off the rabbit with a wet slurp and looked over his shoulder at John.  “What're you doing?”
	“Dammit, don't stop,” pleaded Trey. 
	“We need to get to practice soon.  Coach only gave us a few minutes to talk to you.  Gotta be efficient.  Works both way,” said John.
	“I guess so.”  Eddie glanced downwards and saw that John, too, had dropped his pants to his ankles.  His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed―once, then again after Trey pulled him back into sucking cock.
	John squeezed the base of Eddie's tail and slid his paw upwards,  stopping the wagging appendage and lifting it up in the process.  He gave a thumbs-up to Trey before he busied his free paw with lining up for his first thrust.  Eddie was a good kid―best freshman receiver John had ever seen―but even better, he was more gullible than any other freshman on the team.  “God bless modern sports nutrition,” he murmured.  The tiger pressed the wet head of his cock firmly against Eddie's virgin hole and shoved forward.
	
	On the practice field, the rest of the team heard a high-pitched squeal.  The team's quarterback glanced towards the gym.  “Thought the cheerleading squad  didn't meet on Fridays.”