Date: Sat, 9 Jun 2007 20:28:45 +0100 (BST)
From: Andy Robson <andyrobson2006@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Paintball tales - part 4

GAME THREE

I hid by a window to hear the fun start.

"Eh?  It can't be fifteen minutes."

"Shut up.  Get out."

"Hey!  What the fuck?"

"Where's our stuff?"

"The fucking fuckers are fucking cheating!  Fuck!"

Language did seem to escape Doug under stress.

"Shut up!  Give me a fucking towel."  That was Steve.  "We got our
boots, goggles and guns.  The bastards want us to play naked."

"No way!"  There was general agreement that they wouldn't play naked.

"I'll get our normal clothes," Steve said.  A moment later I heard him
walk out and try the door to the men's shower block whose outer room
had both teams' street clothes.

"Fuck.  It's locked.  I'll find Greg or Kyle."

I heard his booted footsteps walking towards our office building.  I
peered round the corner of the building to catch the incongruous sight
of him wearing boots and goggles with a white towel wrapped round his
waist held shut with his right hand, striding over to the office.

"Greg?  Kyle?" he shouted as he got to the door.  He tried the door
and found it unlocked.  No sooner had he opened it than a senior leapt
through the door, tackling him round the waist and bringing him to the
ground and knocking the wind from him.  The other three bundled out
and almost immediately had him completely immobilised.

The guy who had tackled him sat on his legs facing his feet, while two
others held down an arm each and the fourth, Chris, sat down hard on
his stomach and stuffed a gag in his mouth.  The guys on his arms
looped two of the cable ties we used as cuffs around each wrist and
then forced them together and tied them together with a third.
Meanwhile the guy on his legs tied his boots together with a length of
twine.  Steve had about eighteen inches of slack between his feet.  It
was enough to walk but not to run or kick.

The whole operation had lasted fewer than fifteen seconds.

They stood up from him and dragged him to his feet by his hands.  The
towel fell away to the ground leaving him naked from his ankles to his
eyes.  Chris picked up the towel and they marched him off into the
woods, with a man on each side firmly holding an arm.

Less than sixty seconds after he had emerged from the shower room,
Steve was a prisoner.  The juniors had lost their captain.

The suspense was wonderful.  It was only two minutes later that the
juniors started to worry, but it seemed like forever.

"Where is he?"

"He should be back by now."

"Oh shit.  You don't think he's been grabbed, do you?"

"We'd have heard something."

"Yeah.  He must be talking in the office."

"He'd be back by now, though."

And finally someone asked the critical question:
"Who's going to look?"

I heard Doug say emphatically "Well, it's not going to be me," and
there was chuckling.  Presumably Doug, as the youngest, was the one
without a towel.

I ran back to the woods to get a better view without being seen.  Two
young men, Trevor and Luke, wearing combat boots, white towels and
goggles, carrying paint ball guns, emerged from the changing room,
looking around cautiously.

Two sets of toned abs emerged from the top of the fluffy white
towels.  Two pairs of strong calf muscles honed by endless games of
rugby showed below.  All that stood in the way of a display of
nakedness was a corner of a towel tucked in at the waist, and didn't
they know it.

I love watching men walk around in towels.  They walk gingerly, not
daring to stretch any part of their bodies, knowing that a single
false move will send their modesty tumbling around their ankles.
There's a constant worry in their faces, scared that it might be them
that bares all.  It's really delicious.

As if to prove it they walked too quickly to the office causing one of
them, Trevor, to lose his towel before he had covered five yards.  He
turned sharply to pick it up, flapping his four inch floppy dick as he
did.  They tugged on the door but the seniors had pulled it shut
behind them, and the lock had clicked home.  Luke lifted his
hands level over his eyes to shade the sun out as he peered through
the small glass panel in the door.  As he lifted his arms up his waist
narrowed and his towel slipped to the ground.  He stooped to pick it
up, pushing out his delicious bubble butt for me to gaze at.  It was
perfect sexual slapstick.  All it needed was a comic soundtrack.

They moved to the back of the shower rooms to see if there was a
window they could use to get into the men's changing rooms.  There was
only a wide, squat window for the shower room that can be opened to
let steam out.  It's about a foot high and starts about seven feet
off the ground.

Luke got boosted up to the window, losing his towel in the process
and put his upper body through by pushing one arm in, twisting the
shoulders and then pulling through the other arm.  He started to wriggle in,
pushing off Trevor's clasped hands outside.

That was then I was joined by four seniors, including Adam and Craig,
approaching silently through the woods.  They had circled round the
main buildings and were approaching from behind.  They raised their
guns and let off a salvo of paint balls.  Trevor was hit multiple
times, as was the wall he was standing by.  They had aimed low,
though, and Luke, half way through the window with his arse out on
show and his dick and balls swinging in the air, was unhit.

Trevor didn't turn, but simply told them to go to hell.

"We're not playing until we get our clothes back.  Hell, we're just
not playing."

They ran up and two of the guys grabbed his arms and twisted them
behind his back.  Adam pulled the towel from Trevor's waist.

"Nor are we," he said.

Meanwhile, Luke was frantically trying to get in through the window.
Craig just took hold of his ankles, lifted them high and
spread them out.  Luke could get no traction from outside now.

Trevor was frogmarched away by the two guys on his arms, ungagged and
shouting and kicking.  They had both his towel and Luke's.  "Do we get
points for these too?" one asked the other.

I could hear the consternation inside the adjacent ladies' changing
room as the juniors realised what was happening.

As the seniors entered the woods they managed to cuff Trevor's arms
together behind his back and then gag him.  One of the seniors then
returned to the struggling Luke while the other, with both towels over
his shoulders, took Trevor off, past my hiding place, leading him by
his cock.

The trees provided him with shielding as the juniors finally managed
to get some people raised high enough to shoot through their window.
The pellets didn't have much pressure behind them and Trevor's captor
was never in serious danger.

The angles involved made it even harder for them to shoot at Craig
outside.  Besides, one of the seniors by Luke's window started firing
in causing the juniors to take cover and ending their attack altogether.

Luke was not having a good time of his predicament.  He was being held
out flat, supported by his chest in the window and by Craig's hands on
his ankles.  The guy was holding his feet on his shoulders.  This left
Luke's cock and balls hanging loose and the other senior, Adam, was happily
playing with them with one hand as his other kept a gun aimed at the
juniors' window.

As the third guy rejoined them the fun really started.

He took one leg while Craig kept hold of the other.  Then they
walked apart a yard or so, spreading Luke's legs out wide.  Each had a
gun in the other hand covering the window.  This let Luke's tormentor
use both hands as he teased Luke's utterly helpless body.  The theme
of the torment was the question "how do Luke and Jimmy compare?"

"I think Luke's dick is slightly longer," Adam commented as he tugged
on it slowly.  Then he released it and stroked his hand back up its
base to the scrotum.  "Though I think Jimmy's balls are a bit bigger."
He cupped Luke's hanging ball sac in his hand and softly squeezed.
Luke wriggled as Adam did this, but it did no good.

"The obliques are good on both of them," he remarked as he lightly ran
his fingers of both hands up and down both Luke's sides tickling him
terribly.  Luke started to thrash.  "Main abs are excellent," he added
as he moved one hand to tickle his front.  I could hear Luke begging
him to stop mixed with his laughter.

On the far side of our office clearing I saw some seniors preparing
themselves on the far side, with a view on the front doors of the
changing rooms.  They had the juniors penned in as they couldn't come
through the door without being picked off.  On the other hand, they
couldn't easily enter without the same happening to them.  They did
stop any rescue attempt for Luke, though.

Meanwhile Adam had moved round to stand behind him, staring straight
into his spread arse.  He started tickling the insides of Luke's
thighs with his fingertip, moving them about at random between the
knees and the arse itself.  As the time went by he was spending more
and more time near the tops of the legs and around the flesh between
arse and sac.

I saw him lick the fingers on his right hand and then, while still
stroking with his left he pushed his fingertip against Luke's hole.
Luke went rigid.

Adam's response to this was to bend back his left hand's middle finger
with his thumb and flick one of Luke's hanging balls.  Luke jerked in
shock and I heard his squeal through the window.  However after
tensing his body he relaxed it and this allowed Adam to push his right
hand's middle finger into the hole.  Once it was past the sphincter he
could slowly - very slowly - twist and press it in.  At the same time
his left hand was stroking Luke's cock.  He kept this up for a whole
minute before his finger was all the way in.  Luke could not control
himself.  His body was twisting with the feelings Adam was imposing
and his moans of pleasure could just be heard across the clearing.

Curiously I could also hear activity in the ladies' changing room.
Luke's plight was obviously driving his team mates to action.

Adam started taunting Luke verbally as well.  "Oh you want to cum,
don't you, kiddo?"  He was clearly keeping Luke just on the edge.
"How much do you want to cum?"

The zoom on my camera made out the clear drops of pre-cum leaking from
Luke's teenage cock.  He was very close but Adam was an expert at not
letting him cross over to full blown orgasm.

"Beg.  Tell me how much you want me to make you cum."

And Luke begged.  His voice was breaking with tears but he begged.

"God yes, please let me cum!  I need to shoot!  Make me cum, make me
cum, fuck, make me cum."

Adam let this continue for a bit and then withdrew his left hand
altogether from Luke's cock and pulled his finger from Luke's hole.
"Nah.  We'll just take you prisoner."

He ignored Luke's cry of heat and despair and lifted Luke's torso
slightly and then they moved him out of the window, pausing to let him
get his arms free without dislocating his shoulders.  Luke was
completely limp and practically fell to the ground.  His cock however
was fully erect and twitching.  They tied his wrists behind him in the
usual fashion and pointed him at the opening to the path through the
woods.  Then they hooded him.

"Slap on the left butt cheek means turn right.  Slap on the right
cheek means turn left.  Slap on the stomach means stop.  Stinging
nettles or brambles on the cock mean you've strayed off the path."

With those reassuring words Adam slapped him squarely in the middle of
the arse and said "go!"  Luke stumbled forwards off to his next fate,
still dripping from his dick.  Adam, Craig and friend followed him and
disappeared into the woods in the same direction as Trevor had been
taken.

It was about a minute later, though an age too late, that the juniors
burst through the front door.  And what an exit they achieved!

They had detached the frosted glass sliding door from between the
shower room and the changing room.  They were using it as a
bulletproof (well, it stopped paint pellets, didn't it?) shield to
crouch behind and fire over.  They pushed out of the front door, with
their makeshift shield vertical as they left and then rotated to be
wide on once they could do that.  They emerged from the door, slid
around the wall and started making their way, backwards, to the rear
of the building.  They were hoping that it would give them cover to
make a break for the woods themselves.

Crouching down and running around are not good for towels wrapped
round waists.  Four of them had the wit to wrap their towels round
their shoulders before the charge, while the rest left a path of white
towels behind them and Ricky even tripped over his falling towel and
was grabbed by the pursuing mob of seniors.

As his former teammates ran off into the woods he had his arms grabbed
and held wide apart.  The seniors grabbed towels and started slapping
him on all sides as he was marched off.  Because his arms were held
away from his body he was completely unable to defend himself and soon
precision blows on his arse, cock and balls were leaving him in some
considerable pain.

"I surrender!  OK, you got me!  Christ, please stop!  Ow!"

His pleas for mercy went unanswered by the mob, many of whom had been
flogged by him in the previous game.  He was taken to a tree at the
edge of the office clearing and had his wrists tied over one of its
branches.  One ankle was tied to a root near the trunk but the other
leg was left free.  I thought for a moment that they couldn't find a
suitable other root for the free leg, but then I saw what they were
planning.

One of them at a time would grab his free ankle in their left hand and
lift his leg up above waist height.  This split his legs wide and left
the tender underside of his balls exposed for the towel whipping it
got from the towel in the senior's right hand.

Soon he was screaming in pain.  I was about to intercede when they
stopped and David, one of the seniors, winked to his team mates where
Ricky couldn't see him and then spoke.

"You want us to stop?  Tell us where Steve is.  Where's your captain
and fellow torturer?"

Ricky had barely managed to get the words "I don't know" out of his
mouth before the towel slapping started again.  This time it focused
on the rear of his arse, the wide, gaping crack formed by his spread
legs and the hole itself.  Again, soon he was incoherent with his
pitiful begging for them to stop mixed with his whimpering from the
pain.  Ricky tensed his butt muscles but it only made a small change
to the pain as the crack between them was still utterly vulnerable and
tender.

When that particular senior's arm got tired he asked the same question.

"Where's Steve?"

Ricky started with "I don't know.  We thought you..." and got no further.

The senior held his leg high and the next towel whipper started on his
abs.  I saw Ricky try to tense his abs against the pain as the
whipping started.  Then the guy holding his leg pulled off the boot
and started to tickle the sole of Ricky's foot.  Ricky twitched and
this relaxed his front ready for the next blow.  The junior was
getting a serious taste of his own medicine.

Meanwhile I noticed that one of the seniors who had been particularly
badly flogged by Ricky and Steve in the previous game was stripping
the bark of a thin branch to create a wooden switch.

After a couple of minutes of towel slapping the question was posed again.

"Where's Steve?"

"We thought you had him!" Ricky shouted quickly.

"Oh we have him," explained David.  "And if you can guess where we're
keeping him we'll stop."

"What?  That's not fair!  That's not right."

He got no further as David grabbed his leg up with one hand and
squeezed Ricky's tenderised balls with the other. "Fair's not playing
any more."

David tugged the ankle up again and nodded to the guy with the
switch behind Ricky who immediately started laying into his back with
overarm swings slashing diagonally down Ricky's back.

Ricky started shouting out possible places where Steve might be.  None
seemed to be correct. "Your fort!  Our fort!  The office!  The
toilets!..." but the whipping carried on.

After a couple of minutes of this beating they stopped again.  Ricky
was just whispering now. "In a ditch.  Tied to a tree.  Hanging from a
branch..."

The guy with the switch walked round to Ricky's front and started a
few test swings through the air.  David walked round to Ricky's rear
and unzipped his uniform.  A long, hard cock sprang out.
Quietly he rolled a condom along its length and then stood just behind
Ricky.  He gave his rubbered cock a couple of strokes to get it fully
firm and then as someone pulled Ricky's leg up again he put an arm
round Ricky's waist and pressed in his cock.  Ricky's leg was then
pulled down again and finally tied to a root. David put his other arm
under Ricky's arms and around Ricky's pecs to hold himself in.  His
fingers teased Ricky's nipples while the palm still give a firm massage to the
muscles a a whole.  But of course the real stimulation was below the
waist where he was fucking Ricky with an almost leisurely rhythm. Then
he moved his waist hand down, sliding it over Ricky's flaccid cock.

Slowly and gently, at least at first, he started to run his hand up
and down Ricky's cock.  Soon, the cock was hard and Ricky's voice was
faltering as he tried to guess where Steve might be.

David moved his mouth next to Ricky's ear and told him the trouble he
was in.

"If you cum before I do, Sammy is going to whip your front with his
little twig and he's going to keep doing that until I do cum."  He
paused and smiled cruelly.  "Perhaps I should have told you that
before I got you leaking in the palm of my hand."

Ricky started pushing backwards and forwards with his arse, trying to
grind David's cock to cum as fast as possible.  Of course this just
pushed his hand through David's palm more frequently and boosted the
fucking he was getting himself.

In less than three minutes Ricky came.  It was a fountain, shooting
out and hitting Sammy opposite as he stood there with his switch.
Sammy looked down at the cum dripping down his trouser leg and just
said "big mistake, Ricky-my-boy".

"Just remember," David said.  "It goes on until I cum or you guess
where Steve is."  Ricky tensed his butt muscles as he thrusted, trying
with desperate urgency to make David cum.  Then the first blow of the
switch landed on his bare abs.  He was pushed back on David's cock and
the twitch his body gave with the pain extended to the arse.

Blow after blow landed; I lost count, honestly.  Ricky had stopped
trying to think of locations and was panting and begging for the
whipping to stop. Then David gasped loudly and I saw the tell-tale
muscle shakes of a glorious ejaculation.  Sammy stopped the whipping.

David pulled out, panting.  He pulled off the condom and tugged
up his uniform.  He walked round to Ricky's front.  "Still reckon it
was cool to flog us on the wall?"

"I'm sorry," gasped Ricky.  "Please, I'm sorry."

"So where's Steve?"

"I DON'T KNOW!"

David held up his used condom.  "Eat this, or we'll flog you again."

He ran his pinched fingers down it, holding it at one end and
squeezing the cum into Ricky's mouth.  Ricky swallowed.

Meanwhile, Sammy walked behind Ricky's tied body and unzipped.  He
pumped his cock a few times and rolled on another condom.  Had these
guys raided our entire stock?

He pressed his cock into Ricky's hole and pulled himself in, using his
hand round Ricky's cock as a handle.  "Same deal as before," he said.
"But it should be easier for you not to cum so soon this time."

Then he started fucking Ricky's helpless body.  After a few minutes
David walked in front of him, but not with the switch this time.
Instead, he held some nettles in his hand, with their stems wrapped in
a broad leaf.  "Where's Steve?"

"In his car?  In his car boot?  Tied to its roof rack?  PLEASE DON"T!"

David started running the nettles down Ricky's tortured abs.  Nettles
don't hurt that much; they're nothing like the American poison ivy,
but they do sting and the flesh was already tender.

Ricky was whimpering with the pain and begging them to stop.  "I'll do
anything!"

"We know you will, Ricky," David told him.  "But you gagged me and
tied me to a wall, poked my balls with sharp sticks and beat me.  But
I'm a nice guy, so I'll let you scream.

"Get your hand off his dick, Sammy."

He brought the nettles up to Ricky's towel-beaten red ball sac and stroked
them from there forwards along the underside of Ricky's cock, ending by
twirling them around the exposed glans.  I slipped away as Ricky's
screams filled the air.

I headed out the senior fort to see if they had taken any prisoners
there.  I had to admit I was puzzled about Steve's whereabouts as
well.  I had the definite feeling that if Ricky had guessed correctly
then the beatings would have stopped.

My next stop was along the path.  A group of four seniors were
kneeling on a prone figure frantically struggling to get free.  From
the huddled mass came a sound of buzzing.

As I approached I could see it was Doug under the pile and he was
being shaved.  I even recognised the electric shaver; it was one from
the lost property box in our office.  Either they had picked it up
when they were setting the trap for Steve or Kyle had given it to
them.  Doug was a young guy, the youngest of the junior team; he
didn't have much body hair to start with.  Now he had none.  His pubes,
his pits, and his thighs had all been shaved.  Each of the four was
sitting on a limb, and while one was shaving the others were slapping
him open palmed, or pinching him.  His skin was sensitive from having
what little hair it had shaved off.  Now it was getting tenderised
further.

They turned him over and brushed the dirt from his body with sharp,
stinging swipes of the hand.  Then they ran the razor over the back of
his body, arse and legs, though there was precious little hair to
remove in the first place. One of them pulled his arse cheeks apart to
let the razor go deep.  I don't know how much hair was removed, but
the vibration definitely didn't help poor Doug.

"Smooth as a baby," the shaver declared as he repocketed the evil
device.  "Little baby Duggie-Wuggie."

"Shame we can't baby oil him," one of them remarked to the others as
they turned him back over to face up.

"There's some cheap olive oil we use for barbecues," I offered.

"Thanks, but the office is a bit out of our way," he answered.  "I
guess we could always use cum."

This was obviously planned in advance because, as one, they all
unzipped their uniforms and pulled out their dicks.  Then they started
their circle jerk over the struggling Doug, protesting through the gag
in his mouth.  The sight of Doug covered in cum had been a thrill
after the first game.  I was definitely going to hang around to see it
again.

"Aw, poor Duggie-Wuggie wants to join in.  First person to cum gets to
jerk him off too."

"Mmmppphhhh!"  Doug - sorry, Duggie-Wuggie - wasn't happy about this
proposal, but nobody really cared.  Well, nobody who wasn't naked,
held down and shaved from the neck down, that is.

After watching Luke get teased hanging from a window and Ricky
tortured with towels and twigs, I was desperate to cum myself and,
without really noticing it myself, started rubbing my hard shaft through the
thick cloth of my uniform.  One of the seniors noticed, though.

"Hey, Greg, want to join in?  Add to the baby oil?"

I didn't need asking twice.  I dropped to my knees between the two
guys sitting on his widely spread legs and tugged down my zip.  I'd
barely got through a dozen strokes before I shot my load over Doug's
baby-smooth dick, abs and chest.

"Been waiting a while for that, have you?" one of them joked with me.
"Help yourself," he added, gesturing to the boy's dick.

I started to run my hand over it gently, letting my fingers tease the
top of his dick head while the thumb kept a gentle, rotating movement
going on his frenulum.  He was rock hard in my hand almost instantly.

The guy to my right came next, spraying cum over the top of
Doug's thigh and over the base of his dick.  This gave me
some useful lube so I smeared it up and down the shaft I was playing
with.

I have some considerable experience with edging men, though I'm more
used to them when they're tied to a tree rather than held down in front
of me.  I could see that he was on the edge so I pulled back.

"Now, now, Duggie-Wuggie," I told him.  "It's rude to cum before your
elders and betters."

There was laughter and one of the guys holding down an arm spurted
wildly, almost like a fire hose.  Cum went all over the kid's face,
abs and upper chest.  it mingled with mine in the navel.

"Second person to hit the bull's eye," I joked as I held the penis
lightly and then blew gently over its tip.  Doug's abs
fluttered as his body hovered on the very edge of orgasm.  The gag and
goggles mask the face unfortunately, as I prefer to see the look of
heat in their eyes and let them beg for me to finish, but I was only a
guest at this particular show.

"How long can you keep him like that?" the arm guy asked.

"Long enough to let you all cum first," I replied.

By now pre-cum was dribbling more or less continuously from the slit.
I used a spare finger to carefully wipe it round the cock head, not
letting the sensations ever get enough to let him cum.

The other arm wanker came next, a couple of minutes later.  His spray
was a single, dramatic burst, with almost no follow up.  A single rope
of creamy goodness launched through the air over the prone form of our
sex toy.  It seemed to almost hover in mid air before coming down
again to form a line running from the nipple down to the opposite
side's hip.  It missed the navel by an inch.

"Ah-ha!  Missed!" cried the guy who had hit the navel along with me.
"Near misses only count with hand grenades and nukes."

Now that their arms were free, the arm guys started tickling poor
Duggy-Wuggy's arm pits and sides.  I slowed my wanking even more to
allow for this extra sensation.  When he went, it was going to be
spectacular.

"Come on, George," they prompted the other leg man who was still
jerking furiously.

"I don't usually shoot more than once a day," he mumbled.

"I'm in no rush," I reassured him.  Everyone laughed except the target
of all our ejaculations, of course.  Seeing him covered in cum was
even better the second time around and my cock was hardening again and
waving in the air for all to see as I'd not bothered to zip up my
clothes.  My edging him had caused him to sweat from head to foot and
his body was covered in a fine sheen of his perspiration.  I was
pleased as it could help dilute the cum and spread it more finely over
his body.

I noticed that none of them had rezipped either.  All three of them
were idly stroking their hard ons.  I'm not sure they even knew they
were doing it.  As every teenage boy knows from his first circle jerk,
there's a male bonding that takes place under these circumstances that
you'll never read about in any team building guide.  It's powerful and
it was deep.  I was part of the team without a word being spoken.

Finally, after what seemed like an age, the fourth guy shot his load.
It wasn't a huge amount and it barely made it over his closed fist.
But a fifth load of cum faithfully landed on Doug's body.

I took my hand away from Doug's cock.  "So?  Does Duggie-Wuggie get to
cum or just suffer in denial?"

"Make him cum."  There was unanimous support for a sixth load to be
added to the mix.

"Dick or prostate?" I asked.  Now this question confused them.  "Let
me show you," I offered.

I took my pre-cum slicked middle finger and pushed it in Doug's hole.
I used the other hand to raise his hard cock to 45 degrees to get best
distance covered.  I had scarcely touched his prostate when his body,
already shaking from the effects of nearly fifteen minutes of edging,
bucked and reared and nearly threw off his captors.  His cock shot a
massively powerful jet of cum straight over his body, landing in a
long stripe running from his navel, up his abs, through the valley
between his pecs, up his neck, chin and face.  The final drops had
reached his hair.

"Woo hoo!"  There were whoops from the guys around me.

"There's more," I assured them as I massaged his prostate a bit more.
Doug jerked his body up again and a second, much smaller shot of cum
was launched onto his abs.

"Should be able to get a third," I predicted.  I started to twist my
finger left and right and a third spasm rocked his young, firm body
and a small drop of cum came shooting out.

"He's probably running on empty now," I told them.  "Won't take long
to make sure."  And, indeed, within a minute I had a fourth orgasm out
of Doug from rubbing his pleasure nut.  No cum came this time, though
clearly it was uncomfortable for him to be in the throes of an orgasm
with no pressure relief.

One of them looked down at Doug.  "I reckon we've got just about
enough," he said.  He lent forwards and started smearing the six men's
cum over Doug's stretched body.  We all joined in; the scene was just
too hot to resist.  We ran the flats of our hands over his taut
muscles.  Instead of massage oil or baby oil, or even olive oil, we
had a heady mixture of cum and sweat.  We spread the mixture across
his neck, his shoulders and pecs, his abs, quietly thrilling at the
strong muscle directly beneath the greased and slightly sticky elastic
skin. Wherever it started to run a bit think and sticky we spat our
saliva into the mix to water it down.  We ran it down his flanks, over
the tops of his thighs and arms, and I took particular pleasure
running my closed, slick fist over his cock, bringing it back to full
hardness.

Of course, now our hands were covered in the mix too.

The guys on the arms nodded to each other and grabbed his arms with
theirs.  Their grip wasn't perfect, given how slippery everything was
but they still managed to pull him up to a sitting position with his
arms twisted behind his back.  It helped that Doug wasn't really in a
state to resist.  The physical fatigue from his struggles as he was
shaved followed by his four orgasms, and the mental fatigue from his
utter humiliation combined to create a pliable boy.

"Greg, there's some ties in my left pocket," George told me.

I reached in, taking the chance to tug down his uniform a bit more.
His dripping cock was quivering with the tension and I wanted a good
look at it.  I walked behind Doug and tied his wrists in place.  I
suppose I shouldn't have been so explicitly helping one side but I
think we were a bit beyond the fine details like that by now.

They planted their hands under his arm pits and hoisted him to his
feet.  He was wobbly and unsteady on his feet but so long as he could
stand they were happy.

"Hold still," they told him.  Then we all wiped our hands clean on his
back, rubbing them down his broad shoulders, letting the fingers run
through the small of his back, feeling his muscles clench as we
touched the top of his arse crack.  I ran my palms down his
near-spherical buttocks and down the thighs to his knees and calves.
I took the opportunity to kick his legs apart and to run a greasy finger
down his crack and finger his rim one more time.  We hadn't had the
chance to rub our massage oil into his arms and legs except near the
torso, so we covered them too.

Under the cum and sweat combo, Doug was a brilliant shade of red.  As
we stepped back to admire our handiwork his head dropped and he
started to sob into his gag.

George tugged the gag from Doug's mouth.  A ragged, raspy sob escaped
his lips.  Perhaps he might have said something but George gave a
sharp kick to the back of his knees.  He dropped to a kneel and George
pushed his cock into Doug's mouth.

"Our dicks need to be wiped clean too, Duggie-Wuggie."

Doug had no resistance left in him.  Without a murmur he opened his
mouth and took George's cock in.

"Oh no, Duggy-Wuggy, no lips, no sucking.  I want you to lick it clean
with just your tongue.  I want you to taste every lick."  Doug started
to lap at George's shaft with long sensuous strokes with the flat of
his tongue.

As he was finishing up, George told him to use the tip of his tongue
"to get at every last nook and cranny."  It was while Doug had the tip
of his tongue tickling George's piss slit that George shot his next
load.  It was a small shot but it dribbled over Doug's nose.  George
didn't say anything; he just let Doug finish cleaning the fresh cum
off the cock head and then zipped up his clothes.

The other three took their turns next.  Each had Doug lick the cum
from their cocks and spurted a little more on Doug's face in the
process.  There seemed to be some competition as to how much cum could
be dumped on their second shots.  One guy had managed to get a couple
of drops on Doug's goggles and was in the lead by the time it was my
turn.

I let Doug lick my cock.  I'd been rubbing it for a while already -
who wouldn't with this going on - and I had to make a conscious effort
not to cum too soon.  Doug had fallen into a routine and ended by
licking the piss slit with the tip of his tongue.  This was the second
time he had licked my dick clean and he had already improved
dramatically with the practice he had been getting that afternoon.
However, I was just able to hold back my imminent orgasm to pull my
cock away from his head a few critical interests and shoot a small jet
of cum straight onto his forehead and hair.

There was a cheer and I was declared the winner.  For my "winnings" I
was asked to rub in the recent additions.

A sizable droplet of it was hanging from his hair just above the
goggles so I pulled out my camera and took a bunch of high quality
snaps of the cum-drenched Doug, kneeling naked in front of the four
sperm donors.  I don't know how it was possible but his blush
intensified.

Then I rubbed in the cum, mostly up into his hair, which hadn't been
soaked yet.  When I was done I offered my hands to Doug and he licked
the palms clean, his tongue rasping over the rough surface of my
hands, so different to the smooth cocks he had been used to up to
then.  Finally I pushed my fingers into his mouth, one at a time and
had him suck them clean.  "Good practice for the future," I told him
to laughter from the seniors.

It occurred to me that we had been making a classic mistake that the
juniors previously would have exploited.  All our attention was
focused inwards on the naked, humiliated, cum-dump victim.  We hadn't
posted guards and we hadn't kept an eye out for any enemy.  If Steve
had been running the juniors, or if they had anyone capable of
coordinating them, we would have been picked off while we were
distracted, I'm sure.

I checked my watch.  There were about ten minutes left of the game,
but I could stretch that if I wanted to; nobody except Kyle and I were
wearing watches.

I tagged along with the four guys who had so thoroughly crushed Doug
as we walked back to their fort.

When we arrived back at their fort I discovered why they hadn't been
worried.  A dozen blindfolded juniors were lying on the ground in a
circle.  Each had the dick of the guy in front in his mouth.  Without
Steve's leadership the junior team had collapsed.

Craig came over to explain the rules.

"When a guy gets the next one to cum we pull them both out.  Guy who
cums is a loser and gets fucked.  Guy who sucked him is a winner
and gets to do the fucking."

We tied Doug under a branch with his hands high so he couldn't wipe
off any cum and started pacing the circle with the other seniors.  The
dozen "players" were all frantically sucking dick.  Finally Luke came
and Jimmy who had been sucking him got a mouthful.  Craig shouted
"stop!" and they all released the dicks they had been sucking.

The winner and loser were split off and the loser slung over a narrow
fallen tree trunk running horizontally at waist height.  His wrists
were retied to the corresponding ankles and then the ankles allowed to
part.  He was tied over the tree, almost completely immobilised but
still able to spread his legs for the cock about to invade his guts.
He was gagged.  I was guessing that Jimmy didn't know that he had been
sucking his brother's dick again and that he was about to fuck him.

Jimmy was then tied in place.  His ankles were tied to his brother's
and the ties round his wrists tied together in front of his brother's
body.  Craig teased his cock slightly and rolled a condom onto it,
none too gently if the winces on Jimmy's face were to be believed.

"OK, Jimmy, start fucking Trevor," Craig told him.

Luke stiffened, suddenly aware that he was about to be fucked by his
own family.

"Think of it as a chance to get your own back for how he abandoned
your brother in the window," Craig added.

Luke started to struggle, but Jimmy obviously wanted to pay Trevor
back for whatever lie must have been told to him earlier.  Ignoring
the desperate resistance of the youth tied under him, he pressed in,
roughly forcing his cock past the sphincter and into Luke's reluctant
arse hole.  Jimmy started pumping away.

"I'll teach you to desert my big brother, you son of a bitch," he
whispered in the ear he thought was Trevor's.  Luke's gag held tight
and couldn't make himself heard.  Jimmy got into a rhythm and started
pounding away.

I got out my camera again and took a whole bunch of photos.

The circle had been shrunk by the simple act of picking up the players and
putting them down again in a smaller circle.  Each was tied at the
wrists and ankles so couldn't resist.  I noticed that they were turned
round so they were now sucking the cock of the man who had just been
sucking them.

I started taking pictures of this too and soon another pair came and
were removed for fucking.  Over the course of the next fifteen minutes
the circle slowly closed down to the last pair sixty-nining and
finally all of them over the tree, fucking or being fucked.  In all
cases the fucker and fuckee were both gagged to stop them alerting
Jimmy about how he had been tricked.

They were all facing in the same direction.  The trunk of the tree was
flexible enough to carry the movement from one thrusting teen to
the next.  Because of this they fell into a common rhythm, all pushing
together, all pulling together.

On one side I could see six pairs of buttocks all tensing in unison,
each cupping in on the sides as the muscles contracted.  I could see
six pairs of shoulders bulging at the same time as the arms around
their partners were pulled close to force the body down.  Six pairs of
inner thighs tensed and pushed in and a set of six outer thighs were
pushed apart as six cocks were driven home.

Adam patrolled the wild rutting with a flexible wooden "cane" in his
hand.  If he felt any of the fuckers weren't putting their backs into
it they would get a smack across the buttocks to encourage them.

The common pace was increased as more of the fuckers came close to
cumming.  Jimmy came first, crying out with raw pleasure as he shot
his load into his older brother's arse.  This was the stimulus for
another fucker and then another and so on.  Within sixty seconds of
Jimmy cumming, all six had cum.  They collapsed exhausted, letting
their bellies lie on the backs of their unwilling hosts.

Craig came up behind them.  "Don't you dare pull out," he cautioned
them, "unless you want twenty-plus whacks.

Geoff took a position opposite Craig at the far end of the fallen
trunk from Jimmy and Luke.  Craig pressed his body through his uniform
against the fucker's arse and back, standing between the thighs to
keep them apart.  Geoff stood close on the other side with his groin
pressed firmly against the fuckee's face.  Then they nodded to each
other and pulled off the blindfold hoods and gags.

Knowing who you've been fucking has a great emotional resonance and
the guy who had been fairly steady up to now started to cry.  "I'm
sorry, I'm sorry," the fucker repeated whispering into his victim's
ear.  "It's OK, 's OK," the other reassured him.

Craig and Geoff moved down to the next pair and repeated the unveiling
of top and bottom.  Again there was an emotional collapse.  They
proceeded down the line, cautioning Trevor to be particularly quiet as
they removed his gag.

Finally they arrived at Jimmy on top of Luke and here their pattern
changed.  They both dropped their uniforms and Geoff bitch slapped
Luke's face with his hard dick a few times.  He pulled Luke's gag out
and, as Luke opened his mouth to shout to his brother, Geoff pushed
his cock in.  He grabbed Luke's head firmly and removed the hood while
not letting Luke pull back.  When he was happy that Luke was still
effectively gagged, albeit with flesh rather than cloth, he nodded to
Craig.

Craig rolled a condom over his massive dick and pressed the tip
against Jimmy's hole.  Reaching down he grabbed the pairs of thighs on
each side and roughly pulled them as far apart as he could get them.
The he pushed steadily and firmly into Jimmy.  Jimmy squealed with the
pain and Luke struggled for a moment, either in sympathy for his
brother's plight or because Jimmy's cock must have been pushed into
him harder.  Craig pushed and pulled a dozen times or so to get
comfortable in Jimmy's arse and then let him see what he had been
doing.  He pulled off the gag with a flourish and Jimmy blinked a few
times in the light but then saw exactly who he had his dick in.

Jimmy wailed with horror and tried to pull out, but Craig was pushing
him forwards from his own arse and Geoff was stopping Luke from
sliding forwards.  The two brothers were pinned together.  Worse,
Craig was getting into his stride fucking Jimmy and this was clearly
forcing Jimmy to fuck Luke too.  Luke couldn't protest and whenever
Jimmy tried to Craig simply covered his mouth with a large black hand.

Meanwhile Adam was still patrolling the other five so they couldn't
withdraw either.  His preferred torment seemed to be to probe the free
hole with a finger and then stick it in one mouth or the other to have
it licked clean.  He would lean over and move the dirty finger between
the two mouths a couple of times teasing both guys before selecting
one or the other to perform the cleaning chore.

Craig's pace picked up and after a few minutes shuddered as he came.
He let out a lion's roar as he did and almost grabbed hold of
Luke's waist and pounded himself down a couple of last times.  I think
Jimmy was actually winded by this.

I was transfixed by the sight of the six pairs of arses facing me from
the trunk.  Craig, Geoff and Adam all walked away laughing and the
boys were unplugging themselves and weeping at the shame of what they
had done.  I was about to approach to join in with the taunting but I
was distracted by the sight of David arriving at the fort with Ricky
slung over his shoulder, arse forwards.

Ricky's arse was a mess.  No end of red welts ran across it
horizontally and they were crossed by diagonal strokes running down
from his back.  David had really done a number on him.  David dumped
him at Doug's feet where he curled up into fetal position and shook.

Twelve boys over the trunk, one hanging from a tree in a second skin
of dried cum and sweat, and the last one flogged and trembling on the
ground made fourteen.  There were also fourteen seniors there.  The
only people missing were Dave, Steve and Kyle.  I blew my whistle hard
to signal the end of the game.  Kyle would come to the sound and I
might find out what was happening with those three.

"Fifteen prisoners, fifteen uniforms makes thirty points.  Seniors win
the game and the afternoon overall fifty-seven to twenty-five, a
margin of thirty-two points."

The seniors cheered.  The juniors were too emotionally wrecked to
protest about the dirty tricks in the last game.

"Did I hear we won by thirty-two points?" Pete asked as he and Kyle
jogged into view.

"Yes," I said.  "But we're still missing their captain."

"Ah yes," he relied, smirking.  I noticed Kyle couldn't wipe the grin
off his face either.

"Prepare the prisoners for transport," he instructed his team.  "It's
time they were reunited with their Captain."

Where the hell was Steve?