Date: Sat, 12 Apr 2003 17:11:46 -0700 (PDT)
From: fennerp123@yahoo.com
Subject: Fun Night At Jacks Pt 7 of 7

"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.