"It's time for these sexy young punks to be encouraged to offer us just a little bit more entertainment for our money. The guys in the crowd have been coming up with all sorts of nasty, and, frankly, perverted, ideas to get their own back on you little brats, and I can't wait to dish some of this punishment out, " the compere told the three lads who were left sitting on stage while their pals were showering down.
"Now, come over here, you bloody great fairy, " ordered Jim, as Shane, the twenty year old gang ringleader shuffled over to the podium. "My, my, we are a big girl, aren't we?" commented the compere, looking the boy up and down and feeling the provocative bulge inside his tightie whities. The boy's cock tented out the briefs and a clear spot of liquid goo at the tip of his dick clearly showed that he had been leaking while he sat waiting for further events to unfold.
"As you're looking so pretty, my dear, we're going to ask on stage your date and new boyfriend for tonight, young, hunky, Zach." Applause and wolf-whistles greeted young Zach as he strode out wearing the sexiest costume imaginable. He had been changed backstage into a skin tight purple vest, which showed off his abs and pecs beautifully in the light. In the centre of the vest the guys had printed the word "COCK" in huge letters for maximum embarrassment. He wore a cocky white baseball cap on his head, back-to front, with the word "TEASER" written just above the visor at the back of his head. And then there were his shorts. Khaki combat shorts, much to short and tight for the boy's humpy legs. The compere made him revolve and wiggle his butt for the audience's amusement, which showed off his tight ass pretty neatly. On his feet, the same army boots and rolled down white footie socks as before, with the little sexy imp motif exposed.
"Now, greet your new partners," Jim instructed, and the boys shyly pecked each other on the cheeks. "I'm warning you guys, you know the consequences if you fail to play along with our little games. Do it properly." And the audience were rewarded with the straight boys giving each other a good hard kiss on the cheek.
"Now, we are going to have a little demonstration of how not to treat your new date on the first night. I will read out the points to note, and you will illustrate the points for the gentlemen in the audience, who are all very keen to learn, aren't you gents?"
Lots of general agreement and giggling from the crowd.
"Firstly, you will not feel up your girlfriend's big titties under her new party frock."
The boys stared back.
"Well go on then. Demonstrate how to ruin your first big chance to shag your new date."
Zach feltup gingerly at first under Shane's fairy outfit and then shame-facedly gave his best mate a good grope in the pecs as the audience cheered and encouraged him in the lascivious behaviour.
"Yeah, you naughty little boy, leave her tits alone!"
"Ain't you ever heard of foreplay?" Joked the guys in the crowd, noticing how embarrassed the little tough guy was.
"Second. You will not give your girlfriend a good tonguing on her first date."
The boys knew what was expected and were forced to give each other a good Frenching for the lewd desires intention of the crowd.
"While out for a meal, you will not spill any of the hors d'oeuvres down inside your boyfriend's vest.
Howls of laughter as Shane was handed a huge bowl of cold lentil soup and was forced to pour it, circus tent style, down inside the front of Zach's top. The icky mess soaked his top and ran in rivulets down inside his shorts and briefs. Zach grimaced as the slime gradually oozed out of the bottom of his shorts, rendering them partially translucent, and he bowed his legs to enable the gunk to trickle down his smooth legs freely.
"You will not get trifle pudding inside your girlfriend's new outfit."
Zach was given a dish of custard, cream and fruit pudding and Shane looked horrified as he opened the top of his knickers tipped the gunky mess right inside them. The audience loved the sight of the big fairy jock looking totally humiliated as custard oozed out from around his cock.
"Next, you will not rip your girlfriend's knickers off in an attempt to get at her cunt."
More laughter as Zach grabbed Shane's tight knickers and ripped them off. Shane's shaved balls and meaty uncut cock flopped out with the gunky mixture, much to the audience's sheer delight.
"Lastly, at dinner, you will not get cheese spread in your boyfriend's newly gelled hair and make him look embarrassing." Shane was given a tub of cheesy gunk and felt gross as he took of Zach's baseball cap and ruined his perfect spiky dark hair by larding the crap into it and squeezing the cap back in place. Zach squirmed at what had been done to his nice new outfit. He felt totally degraded and belittled.
"You will resist the temptation to take your trousers off too early in the evening."
Zach obeyed, and promptly undid his combat shorts. He unfurled his cock, showing clearly half hard, puptented the yellow briefs he had been given to wear underneath, now soaked with the disgusting soupy gunk. The briefs were so obscenely skimpy that only half an inch of material joined them at the hips and his bubblebutt was three-quarters exposed.
"Finally, boyfriends do not take their dicks out in public and masturbate them in the supermarket."
Laughter as Zach fumbled to get his cock out, whapped it over the top of his briefs and, eyes shining, hoping to please like an eager, innocent puppy, jerked away on his cock like a dirty little schoolboy just home from class.
"OK, stop jerking, you'll need that later," ordered the compere, laughing heartily. "Lastly, you will not suck your boyfriend off on the first date."
Neither lad, both with their dicks flapping out, could believe that instruction, but knew they had to obey. Shane knelt down in the squelching custard mess and gingerly put his mouth around his twenty year old mate's hard cock. He hated the taste, but gamely licked around Zach's glans and up and down the shaft like a virtual expert. Zach closed his eyes and tried his best to enjoy it, but it wasn't working. He loathed this embarrassment and he was rueing the moment he'd ever agreed to the stupid idea of raiding the club. It was certainly payback time now.
"OK, OK, that's enough, we don't want Zachie boy to shoot any more spoo just yet, do we?" chuckled Jim.
"Thank you guys for your -- erm -- thoroughly enlightening demonstration of how not to get the girl. I'm sure the lovely gentlemen have been taking careful notes out there in our audience tonight. You may now go and join your friends backstage to get showered and changed for your ensemble performance."
As the boys slipped backstage, the compere announced that the climax of the show was coming, and that the boys would be put through a kind of sexual Olympics, with a few little tests to see who could perform best sexually. To ensure as much titillation and enjoyment for the audience as possible, the boys were all dressed in similar uniforms. The punky, snotty, brats all swaggered back out a few minutes later in reversed baseball caps, army boots and white socks Apart from this they were quite naked, except for the fact that each wore a brief lycra identification vest in a different colour -- respectively purple, yellow, orange, red, green, blue. The tanktop had just a couple of straps over the lads' shoulders, and came down level to just above their nips. Really the only point of this garment was to write the boys' lewd nicknames on for the crowd's amusement. Zach's said "BUNNYBOY", Shane was "SPUNKHUNK", Andy, now safely out of his majorette outfit, was "BALLERBOY", marine Ricky was "ARMYBRAT", 17 year old hunk Luke was "BABYDICK" and blond Chris was "BUTTBOY", Humiliating, degrading names for humiliated, degraded, cheekyass lads.
"Let's welcome the lads back for the grand finale," cheered the compere, as the boys filed out, cocks swinging before them, asses shaking in the arc lights and smoke. The audience stamped the club floor and cheered; the stage bounced as the guys were encouraged to whirl around to the music to get themselves warmed up and sweaty for their workouts. Cocks flopped, reeled, and swayed everywhere, as the amplifiers blared out, appropriately enough, Sinitta's old 80s hit "Toyboy". More than one of the guys was getting hard, which didn't go unnoticed in the crowd.
"I'm in love with my toy boy, toy boy... I'm out with my toyboy... tonight," went the music as the boys embarrassedly danced and wiggled their little asses along to the beat. As the music finished, the compere introduced the first game of the night.
"First championship is our cycling race," went the compere, as six exercise bikes were wheeled out. The boys relaxed until they spotted that the seat of each bike had a five inch dildo attached. Volunteers from the audience were invited to grease the boys' butts up as the bikes were put in place. The lads winced as the willing assistants felt up their boybutts and larded up their puckering holes. Finally they were ready, and went over to mount the bike labelled with the nickname corresponding to the one round their necks. They squirmed and winced as they eased their pretty, round peachy asses back onto the dildoes. "Whooo," "Cooogh", "Uuumph," came the lewd expressions as they planted their butts on the intrusive toys.
"Now, the aim of the game is to get that dick up and spurting, with just the aid of the dildo. The first one to cum will be given a break from the next game."
"Is that clear?"
No response as the boys wiggled their asses to try and get comfortable.
"Are you listening, you dumb shits, I said `Is that clear?'".
"Yes mister." "Sure." "I understand, sir," came the amusing replies. Right! On the whistle then. "And don't forget, you must holler and roar when you come for the whole length of your orgasm, or you won't be excluded from the next round.
"Go.!"
The boys pedalled away for all they were worth, desperate to get their cocks up, shoot their load and miss the next humiliation. Of course, being Jack's Club's special night, it wasn't that easy. Guys from the audience were invited up on the podium to lob bags of flour, cream and custard at the lads to impede their progress and make it a real slapstick marathon bike ride. The audience lapped it up. Cocks bounced and jumped, ballsacks jiggled lasciviously up and down as the jocks pumped away, reeling as bags of gunk caught various parts of their anatomy. The bike's movements meant the boys were literally fucking themselves silly.
"Ooh," "Aaagh," "Mmmmh," "Grrragh" came the sexual grunts and moans from the macho boys as they rode as if their lives depended on it. The sound system played a long mix of Kraftwerk's "Tour De France." The compere gave a running commentary like he was on Sports Special, only with boners and balls instead of bats and balls:
"Oh and it looks like Bunnyboy has sprouted a hardon, look at that cummy pearl oozing out of the tip, oh and there goes Armybrat with a jelly custard catching him in the eye. Look at Ballerboy and Spunkhunk, they're desperate to get their loads shunted out on stage. Wooo there goes Babydick with a whole bunch of blue cream and eggs up his leg. What a complete idiot he looks. And not such a baby dick either, from the sight of that big uncut teentool waving at me. Shall we wave back gentlemen?", and so on, as the audience roared and cheered for more. "Look at those brats, they're pushing on those pedals like their teeny lives depended on it. Look at those cocks buck and bounce, back and forth, all of their own accord. Don't go away viewers, it's all about to happen."
The boys were far too busy concentrating to pay attention to the humiliating commentary using their new degrading nicknames. Within three or four of the boys had roaring stiffies and precum drool was dripping and popping about all over their bikes.
Suddenly, without warning, Shane, the only one yet to cum during the evening, started to pedal erratically and pant loudly, leaning forward suggestively, "Ooh, ow, oooh, baby," he squealed, like he was fucking his girlfriend. "Ooooh, yeahhh!". The other lads looked at him enviously as their cocks bobbed for any sign he might be beating them to cumming.
"Phnaagh!" squawked Shane, his muscled, swimmer thighs flexing sinuously as a great arc of cum bolted out of his cock. "Aaagh! Ungh!" as seven or eight ropes of the stuff splattered out of his rod, spraying the bike, his chest, and Zach's legs next to him. All this as a packet of cold, green porridge exploded over his tits and chest. Cheers and roars of laughter from the crowd,
"Thank you, boys, thank you so much for your gargantguan effort at plugging your little butts" enthused the compere. "It looks like we're going to drown in teenage spunk this evening, doesn't it?" joked the compere, as the winner was declared and invited up to the rostrum, the other boys ordered to stop pedalling as they had failed to reach climax first. Shane was shown off to the crowd, wiped down to remove the splatters of food, cum and trash, and so the audience could see the trail of cum springing out of his softening dick.
"What a huge amount of babyjuice our fairyboy Shane here turned out to have hidden away in those big Aussie balls," joked Jim as he squeezed the boy's babynuts. "He might look like a wombat," he mocked, as the cute Australian was incredibly good looking, "he might dance like a platypus, cycle like an emu and have feet like a kangaroo, but he cums like a fucking elephant. Don't you Shaney boy?", went the compere, somewhat rhetorically in the circumstances. Shane bit his lip at this ridicule and looked down as another pearly string of his downunder cum pooled onto the podium. The guys in the crowd loved this teasing of the biggest boy there, the hunkiest, the most self-assured, and the ringleader. "Unfortunately, you forgot to holler like a rhino throughout your ENTIRE ejaculation, so you don't get exluded from the next game, you stupid fuck, but I couldn't really care less about that, you useless piece of shit," jibed Jim as he gave the insolent jock a good slap round the back of his head, the boy's bob of blond hair jolting forward. "Ooof!"
"Have this to make you remember next time," and whapped a big pink custard pie in the unsuspecting boy's startled face. Humiliation upon humiliation. A blob of pink cream flopped off his face and caught comically on the end of his cock, much to the crowd's amusement, as Shane was ordered back to join the other boys, cockily swaggering at the back of the stage and sneering at Shane for having failed to qualify for exemption from the next round.
"Before we continue, we want to inspect your butts so the audience can vote for the prettiest and, er, literally, sexiest little asshole here on stage tonight." And with that, the compere instructed all the lads to turn round, stick their asses out towards the audience and pucker their cherries so that the guys out front could vote for the sexiest ass.
"My, my, this is going to be pretty hard. They're all such firm, round butts." The assholes winked and puffed suggestively at the audience. Without warning, Jim walked along the row and stuffed pieces of fruit -- a date, a prune, a tangerine, right up the boys asses so the guys out front could see them wince and moan. And see how much they could take. Zach groaned as a lime was wedged up his crack and his pink ring inflated and deflated."
"OK. Now, a show of hands to decide the winner of this round." Each boy wiggled his ass provocatively as the votes were counted. "No question, with 22 votes, Ricky, our bubblebutt marine, you are the Sweetest Rump!" jested the compere in Weakest Link style. "And for that you get to wear this beautiful sash." He was made to stand up and take his Miss World style gold sash award, emblazoned in silver with the words "SEXIEST BRATBUTT". The audience lapped it up and it got a big laugh.
"Next, and penultimate round is our cock measuring competition." I'd like one volunteer from the audience to deal with each of you. There was no shortage of eager hands, and soon a 40, 50 or 60something lusting volunteer was up on stage, given a measuring tape, and drooling over the boy they were assigned to. They were ordered to give the boys a good feel up, for good measure, like they were buying chicken thighs in the supermarket. The dirtier old men made it their business to prod and poke the guys as much as they could, rubbing their keen hands over the smooth boys' cocks, legs, and ballsacks. The boys knew they had to go along with this as their big boy balls were cupped, felt and displayed for the benefit of their tormentors.
"Now, each volunteer is to rub his lad's cock and get it nice and firm for us to take the measurements. No boy may touch his own cock, and boys, I want hands on heads please. You've all been quite naughty enough for one day," continued the compere, like he was dealing with disobedient schoolboys.
Before very long, the guys were hard, their cocks up again and dripping, eager to shoot out yet another load, having been taken to the brink of orgasm on the bikes and then forced to lose their hardons again.
"OK guys, come to the front of the stage and kneel. Thrust those hips up and let us get the measurements over with. Biggest cock gets to miss a round." The guys all wanted to miss out on the next humiliation and looked keenly up and down the row, cutely and amusingly hoping that theirs might be the biggest cock. They thrust their hips up enthusiastically, looking desperate to win this completely mindless game. This all made it more amusing for the audience, who gathered round the front of the stage and pointed and stared at the fabulous parade of tough boy erections, the merest tufts of pubes in most cases, except Zach who had a joyous forest just above his cock, though it was neatly trimmed everywhere else. The bodies gleamed and glistened as the assistants continued to slick their boys hardons up for the contest. It was clearly evident that Chris, with his pert little 5 and a half inch cock wasn't going to win, but he kept stretching and poking in an effort to prove he had a big one, which the guys in the crowd were finding pretty funny.
"Measurement time!" announced Jim, as each assistant got a tape up against his charge's penis and announced the results. "Remember, guys, the measurement has to be from the base of the cock to the tip of the glans itself."
"Bunnyboy 8 inches." Zach's cock was clearly one of the biggest. "Armybrat" 7 inches, "Spunkhunk 7 and a half inches," and so on, all the boys hoping they'd be the biggest. It turned out that there was a dead heat. Zach and Babydick Luke both had eight inch wieners.
"It's a dead heat!" announced Jim, to the cheering audience. That means we have to have a decider question to see who is excluded from the final round. Bring on the questions please. A selection of gold cards with questions was carried over to the stage.
"Right. It's sudden death," the compere went on, like he was hosting the Weakest Link. The boys looked like thy were ON the Weakes Link. Except that this evenings goings on were slightly less embarrassing and humiliating than anything on that show.
"First question. What is the average amount of ejaculate produced by the 18 year old male human?"
The lads looked blank. "What's ejaculate?" asked dumb Luke, to the crowd's huge amusement.
"Cum, you stupid boys. Don't you know the proper word?"
"Oh. Right. Yeah. Um. About three teaspoonfuls."
Zach guessed about four. In their case that probably was the average, given the evidence so far this evening.
"The correct answer is 5cc. Which is about one teaspoonful, so I'm afraid you both have the answer wrong. That means, er, gentlemen, the caps please."
Both Luke and Zach looked totally dismayed as, for the second time of the evening, the stupid dunce caps were brought out for them to wear. The comical, conical headgear had now been amended so that each read "I'VE A GIANT COCK BUT I'M A DUMB FUCK." A four inch wide comedy rubber purple cockhead with a realistic looking peeslit had been placed over the tip of each cap and the audience roared as the boys sexy baseball caps were removed, their hair was ruffled up, and these hats were rammed over the embarrassed boys heads. The boys looked as if they'd die.
"And that's not all," said Jim. "Look!". He squeezed the rubber cockheads on the tip of each cap. Neither boy could see what was going on but everyone else could. A little spurt of what looked just like white cum spurted out of each hole and trickled down the side of the cap. It looked really funny. Hoots and giggling from the audience as the boys were ordered to bow their heads a little so everyone could have a good laugh at them.
"OK, boys, get back to your friends." Even their mates sniggered at the bick dicked boys' predicament. All of a sudden it wasn't such a good idea to have the biggest cocks in the gang.
"The last contest for this evening, and this is one I've particularly been looking forward to, as a matter of fact," went Jim, is the cumshooters ball. The boys were ordered to kneel behind a long black rubber mat which spread out about 8 feet in front of them. White lines graduated in 6 inch intervals marked the distance from the base of their ballbags. Zach and Luke in their dunce hats looked particularly stupid now, as their friends lined up still in their roughboy baseball caps.
"Each of your assistants will pump your cocks as you kneel down like good lads and try to shoot your cum as far is it will go. The winner is the one who shoots furthest. Loser pays another forfeit, I'm afraid."
"On your marks, get set, go!" The assistants fondled and rubbed their boys' dicks and got them shining and ready. The boys bucked and grunted, their faces twisted and desperate as they strove to pump as much bunnyjuice out as they could to avoid any more humiliation. After about four or five minutes of this, to the sounds of thumping disco music, the first boys started to eject their loads. Out it spat, arcing and splattering across the mat. First to blow was hunky marine Ricky, whose cum splurted out in different directions, spattering Andy to one side of him and Shane to the other. Then stripperboy Shane himself hollered as he let rip five huge jets of cum out into space and across the mat. Little Lukie then shot four or five squirts in totally the wrong direction -- up -- and they landed right in front of him about a foot away. Poor Luke. He never got it right.
When all six guys had finished bucking, panting and shooting, only the measuring was left, and there was a clear winner. Zach, who had already shot two massive loads during the evening, managed to slick up the eight feet of rubber in front of him, and even hit one of the members of the audience right in the face. It was a beautiful performance. So great, that even his mates stared in awe and hi-fived him. It was, literally, a terrific climax to an incredible evening.
"Time to thank all our punky little toughies for giving us so much fun. I'm sure we'll see more of them in the future. On tape. On the streets! "
But there was just one last moment of humiliation the guys hadn't expected as they had just performed the ultimate show -- jacking off for a bunch of queers. Suddenly, Sissy-Spacek-Carrie style, the heavens opened and a gallon of gunk opened up over each boy's head, pouring down and splattering them in gunge and muck. Tanks of it. The audience hollered and lapped it up as the unsuspecting punks wiped the crap out of their eyes, hair and pubes. Then, even more surprisingly, the entire stage, except the podium, where the compere held court, started to tip up on a hydraulic mechanism from the back. Up to 30 degrees, 45 degrees, and then more. Anyone in Europe who remembers "It's a Knockout" and "Jeux Sans Frontieres" from the 70s and 80s would know that the boys were about to lose their grip and slide off into the huge shaving foam tanks at the front of the stage. The club was rewarded with the fabulous sight of 6 gunked, naked, booted hunks writhing around in a cream bun fight for their amusement and satisfaction. The boys were shocked and degraded. It was the final humiliation.
"The guys in the audience whistled and cheered, laughing and applauding, as the boys were led off backstage one final time, covered in gunk and shaving foam, for a towelling down and, eventually, out to a van waiting to take them off to a young offenders' institute for correction and behavioural training. But that is a whole new story. For now, they had been taught a lesson none of them were going to forget in much of a hurry.
It was the talk of the club that night, for several weeks, and longer. The video made out of the show would come in useful if the guys threatened again in the future. Very useful. Indeed.
END. BUT THE BOYS WILL BE BACK.