Next part in series of Offender Relief Day series to be posted under authoritarian, gay male. Lots more fun and humiliation with the young hooligans. If you like this story you might want to check out my other one SOOPERSAVER PETS. Thanks to everyone who wrote suggestions and wanted more. If you like the story or want more or have suggestions please mail at zadara1@hotmail.co.uk
PART 6 JAM PACKED: BUNFIGHTS AND COCKFIGHTS
More guests started to appear at this particular sideshow, and a couple of older gentlemen were carried on by the sedan chair wielding toughies wearing next to nothing who had been ordered from the gym. The scene was looking kinky and interesting as the four athletic lads waited for their next embarrassment to be inflicted for the fun of the onlookers. The nurse ran across to Jeff in his diapers and romper and fussed about him with mock concern as the dribbles of excess cum from Simon's overly excited cock ran down his face.
"Did the nasty big boy make a mess of little Jeffie's cheeks. There, there," she intoned, as if talking to a three year-old. Jeff winced with humiliation as she deliberately smeared the cum up his nose and across his eyes.
"Looks like baby didn't enjoy his feed very much," joked one of the onlookers. "That boy Simon tried to overfeed him with that filthy juice," remarked another, as they laughed at the lads' predicament.
"All this excitement and upset will mean little Jeffie here, or should that be Jessie, will need a diaper change," announced nurse sincerely, as McBride the games master looked on approvingly.
"Shit, no," yelled Jeff, hating the very thought of more punishment.
"Oh dear, baby is having another big tantrum," declared nurse, as she made Jeff lay on his back on a giant, plastic foam padded baby changer decorated with flowers and teddies. "We've got to get Jeffikins ready for the party, haven't we?"
"What fuckin' party?" shrieked Jeff.
"One of the new girls, little Michelle, has a fourth birthday party today and you're invited, so we need to get you changed," explained nurse, as the gathering crowd laughed.
"Party? Girls? Fourth birthday?" stammered Jeff incredulously. "What the hell are you on about you old bat?"
"Don't you dare talk to nurse like that," barked McBride. "Give him ten of the best, nurse." And with that nurse ripped off the romper so that muscled, athletic, Jeff was nude apart from his comedy diaper. Laying him on his back, she lifted up his legs to expose his butt, as the boy winced in horror, and laid ten slaps across his pert little asscheeks.
"There, that'll teach you to answer back. Now, let's prepare for the party." She undid the diaper and to gales of laughter exposed the contents. To everyone's delight Jeff had got so worried he had actually shat himself into the diaper. He flushed with red and wanted the ground to swallow him up as nurse displayed the brown mess. "What a big lot of jobbies you have done. Let's get your bottom cleaned up," mocked the nurse.
"Phoo, what a stinky smell. Pooh. He's done big poos, look, mummy," exclaimed Alastair. "That will teach him!".
"It certainly will!" concurred his father.
Nurse wiped at the lad's asshole deliberately and repeatedly, displaying his red cherry to the delighted audience as she disposed of the filthy diaper. She sprinkled baby powder all over his butt and then remarked on Jeff's growing stiff cock. All the rubbing around his intimate areas had caused him to spring a massive boner. A great, pink, 8 inch rod jutted up level with his navel.
"What's this, what's this," asked nurse, rather rhetorically in the circumstances, as she fingered the 19 year old gymnast's erect penis lasciviously and teasingly, causing it to leak copious amounts of precum.
"I don't know," stammered Jeff, stupidly and helplessly.
"I'll tell you what it is, since you don't know. It's your pee-pee. Little girls aren't supposed to have pee-pees."
"Little GIRLS?" cried Jeff, astonished.
"Well, yes, you're off to little Michelle's 4th birthday party this afternoon and you're going to play the part of Belinda. We can't have big pee-pees in the way."
"Belinda? What the ... " gasped Jeff.
"Yes. I think it's best I just deal with your hard pee-pee right now, so that you won't make a fool of yourself later at the party in your new frock." Explained the nurse, as she jigged her fingers up and down the lad's lava hot shaft. "This won't take a minute. I've just got to get your juice out so that your pee-pee stops swelling. You'll barely feel a thing. It won't hurt much".
"Hurt much?" blabbered Jeff. She was describing whacking him off like she was administering an injection. He convulsed in pre-orgasmic spasm.
"There we are, nearly there, we've nearly finished milking your pee-pee," declared nurse, like she was dealing with a goat, as she ran her hands around the slicked-up shaft. Suddenly, as the audience wolf-whistled and looked on goggle-eyed, Jeff yelled and shot out big wads of cum. Whoosh, splat, whap, splat, right across his muscled pecs. The first two jets splashed right under his chin.
"Fuck ooh, jeez," yelled Jeff as his big balls tensed up and spewed their load out on his belly and chest for all too see.
"Goodness, baby had a lot of jelly in there today. Just as well that I could take care of it," announced nurse, as she scooped up the big puddles of sexy cum into a jar (she saved all the cum she milked in little jars – they made excellent prizes on the raffle and tombola stand. A lot of the guys would pay £20 or £30 for a jar of sweet teen nectar to take home, sniff, savour and devour at leisure.).
"Time to get dressed for the party," declared nurse, as McBride led him off into a large marquee to get changed for the entertainment.
"Meanwhile," announced the governor," while we're getting ready for the girls' party, we have a brat to deal with here, so let's enjoy some fun with Vince, shall we?". It sounded a most agreeable idea, and the onlookers nodded their approval while the party fun was set up in the marquee. Vince was now the only jock form the comedy soccer trials who was still left in shorts and briefs. Simon was nude apart from his socks and briefs and had just recently sprayed his big fat load of cock juice. Hunky, blond, Alex was down to just his brief red jockstrap with a quarter inch waistband.
"You may have thought that you'd seen some pretty cruel humiliations, but I can assure you that the laughs are far from over yet, ladies and gentlemen. I think it's high time we had some fun with little Vince, here, who's brazenly managed to stick in out in shorts and knickers while his friends suffered," announced the governor.
Vince had a humpy gymnast's body and dark, short hair with a luscious fringe. He was endowed with the cutest pecs and toned shoulders and biceps. Quite, quite hairless everywhere but around his cock and balls, which protruded suggestively at the front of his sports shorts and were favourably commented on by the onlookers. He showed off the cutest little outie belly button, stuck like a peanut in his navel.
"First of all, I think this lad needs a haircut," announced McBride, as the approving governor handed him a buzz cut shaver. He switched it on and pouting Vince grimaced at the unexpected invasion of his proud boyish haircut. McBride laughed as he zapped the sides of the boy's hair, and the crowd laughed and pointed as the hair dropped around the lad's boots. They could see that the unsuspecting lad would be left with a Mohican cut down the centre of his head, a strip about two inches wide, the rest of his head completely shaved. He looked so embarrassed at his new style.
"And to complete the look, we will need to gel the boy's hair up, so that he looks the part," continued McBride, scooping up a handful of strawberry jam from the trolley and teasing up the boy's hair into a ridiculous two inch high Mohican. "That'll soon be dry and stiff in this weather, now, show off your new look to the nice people, lad," ordered McBride. Vince was made to revolve and show off his stupid new look. At that moment, one of the guests, served a martini cocktail by one of the pretty blond serving youths, complained that his cocktail wasn't mixed properly and asked for a swizzle stick. There were, of course, none on hand.
"It doesn't matter, Mr Dungannon," apologised McBride, who knew Dungannon to be one of the local district sherrifs, in for the afternoon's games, "Vince here has his very own swizzle stick, he'll stir it for you, won't you, Vincent?"
"Eh?" asked the boy, somewhat confused, as only a stupid ass gymnast can be.
"Your cock boy, your big fat cock. You stupid ass. Take down your shorts and briefs and stir Mr Dungannon's cocktail around with your prick, there's a good lad." The audience smiled and whistled as the lad shucked down his footie shorts, revealing sexy black briefs which were held at the hips by only a half inch of material, barely enough to keep Vince's cock in. Vince looked again for reprieve as he stood in his boots and knickers, but realised that none would come, and whipped off his briefs. His five inch flaccid cock flopped out, his balls shaven and surmounted by a crown of neatly clipped bush above his peter, he swaggered over to slip his pride and joy in the sherrif's drink.
"Wiggle those hips, wiggle them, for Chrissake, get that cocktail stirred," instructed McBride, as the humiliated boy flexed his buns and performed the obscene service to much cooing and laughter from the onlookers. As the cock popped out of the drink, Dungannon sniffed the heavenly scent of the sweet brew now infused with the musky aroma of young man meat. He downed in one and licked his lips. While this happened, cheeky Alastair ran over and, keen to get his first taste of alcoholic liquor, knelt down and licked at Vince's penis to taste the drops of martini liquid which clung to the shaft.
"Get off me, you wanker," barked Vince, slapping Alastair across the head.
"Now, now, that's no way to treat our most honoured guest, Vince, now you just let him lick the drips off your filthy fat cock. And you had better not embarrass the poor lad by getting a hard on, either," scolded McBride.
"No, sir," agreed Vince, but as Alastair slurped away at the dong, the inevitable happened and Vince squirmed as his dick inched upward, and within thirty seconds, fat Alastair's teasing had sent the rod skyways.
"Now look what you've done, you prat", shouted Vince, still not getting the idea, as he lashed out at Alastair, his cock bobbing obscenely, while his dicksucker ran back into the crowd and laughed at the naughty boy with the big hard penis.
"Your cock has gone hard, boy."
"I know sir."
"What are you going to do about it?"
"Don't know sir."
The onlookers laughed histerically.
"You're going to cool your 20 year old ardour down, aren't you, you ballbrain. Jumping jacks, fifty of them," ordered McBride.
"Oh but..."
"Oh but what?" shouted McBride.
"When I do jumping jacks it makes me harder and..."
"And what?"
"I get even more excited."
"Well, you'd bloody well better not. Now, get on with it before we lose our patience. There are more cocktails to stir.
Vince got on with the jumping jacks as the onlookers counted down. Alastair threw an icecream sundae at him which hit his chest and stuck there, the cold liquid gradually trickling down the naked boy's torso and around his cock, slicking up his chest. Alastair tormented Vince even more by squirting raspberry syrup onto his chest. It dripped into Vince's belly button and slicked up the very area that Vince's cock bashed against every time he completed a jump. It was clearly turning the 20 year old on, as a spiral of boycum started to drool out of his pissslit, his foreskin stretching well back, as the jumps reached 25.
"If I'm not phew careful... I'm gonna... Agh... Fuck... I'm gonna blow... ooof,"
"Going to what?" shouted McBride
"Fuckin' cum... phew... gasp...I'm gonna fuckin' spew," gasped Vince lewdly as his meat slapped audibly and lasciviously against the nut of his bellybutton.
"I'm warning you, cockface," said McBride, as on the 42nd jump, Vince screamed in orgasmic heaven and the 5'6" hottie lost control of his tool, which burped out tons of cream as he finished his last few jumps, the friction between his knobhead and his navel just enough to tease him right over the point of no return. The white cummy cream flew everywhere as the boy panted and fought to finish his jump routine. It flew into the sherrif's hair; a few older onlookers, including Alastair's mother, held their mouths open and were rewarded with a rain of sweet lad's nectar on their tongues. Alastair looked up horrified as his mother lapped at the horny boy's jism and even stuck her tongue out for seconds, such was her satisfaction at the full flavour of Vince's almighty semen. On 50, with milky cum still drooling out of his piss slit and dobbing all over the grass, Vince stood down, silken with sweat and clearly exhausted. A round of applause from the cum spattered crowd, pleased at their unexpected shower of boy baby juice.
As Vince panted and puffed, heaving his muscular chest most entertainingly, the guests in their tuxedos, clutching their cocktails, were invited to attend the girls' party in the marquee. The crowd made their way into the hot, stuffy tent, as boys served them the kind of drinks you would expect at a 4 year old girl's party. Cherryade, soda, ginger beer. Pink party balloons decorated the entrance to the marquee, which contained a hundred deckchairs, quickly filled by the expectant onlookers. On a dais at the back of the marquee was a brightly decorated pink table, covered with mountains of party food, cream cakes, jellies, treacle sponge and so on. Along with bottles of party pop and soda. Behind the table were four giant high chairs for the girls to sit at. The music playing was "The Teddy Bears' Picnic" on a nauseating more or less continuous loop, but it was all very amusing. As the tent buzzed with merriment and expectation, McBride introduced the first of the party girls, with mounting excitement. "Our first little girl is Fifi," declared McBride over the microphone as a startled, beautiful 19 year old youth called Lloyd was led on wearing an incredibly brief, pink satin party dress and the tiniest of pink knickers which were clearly two sizes too small. It was hilarious watching the spunky macho boy, who in reality was about 5'7", with a taut, hairless, muscly body, forced to mince in to the tune of "If you go down to the woods today, your sure of a big surprise...". He wore a red bow in his crew cut hair, left shaven on the sides and very short and gelled on top. He looked very embarrassed, as his skinboi eagle tattoo stared out from his pumped left bicep. On his feet, white sports socks and hi-top Nikes, just to remind everyone that he was a big boy dressed stupidly as a girl for his humiliation and everyone else's entertainment. Next on, as the governor introduced, was Jeff, who was dressed identically. Again, he was forced to mince and skip on to the stage, introduced as Belinda, displaying glimpses of his taut ass cheeks as the sissy dress rode up and down with the movements of his meaty thighs.
"And now, please welcome Taffy." Third up was sexy 17 year old blond cutiepie stunner Matt, who wore his gold chain with a cross over his perfectly formed chest. Normally he was an oversexed teen with cocky smile and attitude, but being forced to mince across this stage in front of these paying perverts in his pink party frock, panties and hi-tops had put paid to any feeling of superiority. That was the whole idea, anyhow.
"Last, but not least, please welcome the belle of the ball, party showgirl Michelle." The crowd applauded, laughed and hooted as a real tough cutie, who was 19 and whose real name happened to be Michel, and whose birthday it really was, sashayed and minced onto the dais to the music according to instructions. Michel was very athletically built: a punk with attitude and cropped hair, a square, pouting jaw, tiny nipples and perfect abs. He stretched and teased in his hi-tops as the brief knickers gave superb glimpses of his big, smooth butt.
The four hotties were then ordered to curtsey one by one, lifting up their party dresses to say good evening to the ladies and gentlemen and display their knickers to the crowd. They also had to turn round and display their barely covered big boy asses. It was a sight for the sorest eyes. The boys felt totally ashamed and humiliated, especially birthday girl Michelle, who had been picked on for this stupid show simply because it was his birthday and his French name sounded just like a girl's. But the audience lapped it up, and Alastair was once again right in the front row, laughing and jeering until the tears rolled down his cheeks at the state of the once cocky teen heros.
The governor ordered them to sit in their oversize comedy highchairs, and they were bolted in with a bar across their laps behind the table of food. It was time for the four jocks to eat their party food and drink, but to make it more fun, each was made to wear a pair of boxing gloves to make it trickier and harder. They were to eat as much as they could in ten minutes in the gloves. McBride blew the whistle and soon the girls were grabbing at custard tarts, jellies and drinks, which were incredibly hard to hold. Jelly went down the inside of Jeff's dress, then Michel spilt a bottle of red cherry soda all over Lloyd, and pretty soon their faces and clothes were covered in cream, juice and custard. It was a hilarious sight as the punks messed each other up in their eagerness to get at the treats. Cream ran temptingly down their thighs as they fiddled clumsily with the piles of party food. Then the audience started to join in, as first Alastair and then other guests picked up custard tarts, jellies and chocolate puddings, and started hurling it at the hapless, unfortunate jocks. Everyone was roaring with laughter except them. A strawberry flan caught Michel round the left ear, a chocolate tart landed with a thud of brown cream in poor little Matt's lap, until the dresses were covered in juice, cream and spray. After ten minutes, McBride blew the whistle on the fun, unlocked the highchairs, removed the boxing gloves and made the messy girls stand at the front of the dais, now covered in food and slime.
They were to play the first party game, which was musical chairs. They had to mince around the chairs in their sopping party outfits, slipping everywhere, as they fought to sit on the chairs when "The Teddy Bears' Picnic" stopped. They suddenly got macho and competitive, which was really funny, as the music stopped. Only Michel failed to bag a seat, and stood there like a dumb prick. McBride ordered him to remove his dress in punishment, and stand there, hands on his head, shining and exposed in his tiny brief bikini knickers, glutes glowing, cock proud and clearly discernable and smeared in cream and jelly. The three remaining treated the onlookers to a further display of hilarious macho fighting to get at the remaining to seats, and it was little Matt this time who lost out and had to strip off. His sexy little bod and half erect, knicker-clad, penis drew wolf whistles from the crowd. Soon, Lloyd was out and Michel, for what it was worth, declared the winner. McBride then explained that the four were going to have a cockfight. They all stared blankly. McBride had thought up a game to give the guests a riot of entertainment. Still slick with party food, the four were ordered to remove their tiny briefs and turn with their backs to the audience to display their pretty butts as they masturbated their cocks to erection.
"A prize for the quickest hardon!" shouted McBride, totally forgetting about the girly party, but now the whole marquee reeked of boysex and musky, sweaty jock odour, mingled with the sweet scent of the ruined desserts. The boys knew it was no use protesting. They looked down at their tools and their forearms flexed as each boy pumped away, looking to see if his mates had got theirs up first. Michel suddenly swung round energetically and raised his fist in the air. "I won!". McBride gave him his prize, a watermelon rind cut into a zigzag crown emblazoned with the immortal words "KING COCK". The other lads laughed at the crestfallen partyboy, as it hadn't been so great to win after all. Soon, all the lads' cocks were up and dripping, standing at attention, as they swung round to humungous applause. McBride went along past each one and attached a pink buzzer with double sided tape to the tip of each boy's cock just under the helmet at the top of the shaft. He explained that the game was for them to literally fight with each others' cocks, jabbing away trying to get the buzzer to sound on the other boys' cocks. Just touching the buzzer with another guy's prick would cause the thing to bleep and light up, eliminating the boy. The winner would be the last left standing.
"But woe betide anyone who has, shall I say, a sexual accident, during this."
"What does he mean, mummy?" asked stupid 17 year old Alastair.
"He means that if the boy makes cream, he is in trouble."
"Oh but I ENJOYED seeing those boys' pee-ers spouting all that goo earlier. I WANT to see it again," demanded spoiled Alastair. "I want I want I want."
"Pipe down, Alastair, I expect they'll mess by accident," re-assured his doting father, chuckling.
"On the whistle, 3-2-1!" called McBride. The boys bobbed and jabbed away with their cocks swaying uncontrollably, big floppy 8 inch cocks. They shadow boxed and darted against each other, butts pulsating and flexing, their hands bound behind their backs to stop them touching each others' cocks. "Gotcha Matt!" yelled Lloyd as his cock nearly caught the other boy's buzzer. It was so amusing to see the jock brats taking this seriously. Precum leaked copiously from their cockheads as they unknowingly slicked up each others' sexed up members. They panted and puffed as they danced, weaving with their solid erections. Suddenly Matt caught Michel's knob end and the buzzer on the partyboy's cock flashed and beeped to the amusement of the crowd. He was ordered to the side and had to stand there with his erection as the other three played on. Suddenly hunky crewcut Lloyd's cock got caught in a slippy battle with Matt's and Jeff's. They couldn't jab the buzzers because of the slickness of the cocks, but they oohed and aahed as they pushed each other to their erotic limits. Suddenly, Lloyd yelled "Fuck, no!" as his cock involuntarily spasmed against the other two and he let go seven or eight molten bolts of fuckjuice. Splunnng! Whapp! It went, right up his mates' cocks and across their chests, pouring down among the jousting cocks. The audience went wild at this sight. "Oh my God! Argh!" yelled gym muscled Jeff, "I'm going to sp-sp-spew m-m-my juice if I'm not c-c-c..." and the boy let forth a ton of foaming sexcream. Up, up and away it went, arcing through the air and landing on the table of food. It was too much for Matt. His 17 year old, rock hard 8 inch rod, jutting out of a perfect blond bush, let go a huge and shocking amount of balljuice. Zip! Zip! Whap! It went, ten huge globby ropes of it out into the audience, who cupped and grabbed at white silky strands as it came towards them. The audience stood and roared their appreciation as McBride blew the whistle and broke up the tournament.
"No cumming, no cumming," I distinctly ordered. "You will all pay for this insolence, you disgusting boys. I will not have this lewd behaviour." The guests loved it. They couldn't wait to see what the jock brats would have to do next.
Part 8 to follow: DAMIAN'S SHOW