There had been a lot of competition for a job on the floor at Geoffrey

McCormack's supermarket in Craigvue, on the outskirts of Glasgow.

McCormack was to run the new Craigvue branch of the supermarket chain

'Soopersave'. He was determined to run the store with a rod of steel.

Aged 46, and a former army sergeant and physical education instructor,

McCormack was physically in great shape and well placed to run anywhere

like a well oiled machine The job advertisement read.

'Young men, 17-22, needed to staff local food emporium. Tough, willing

and able-bodied gentlemen only need apply. Full body length photographs

must accompany applications'.

In the event, and unsurprisingly in this rundown part of Scottish

suburbia, there were 248 letters and cvs, whittled down by interview and

sifting to a final six who were actually offered a job at the store. 18

of them were from females, who clearly hadn't been able to read the

advert, and 67 were above or below the stipulated age range. McCormack

soon weeded them out. Soopersave was not, by any stretch of the

imagination, ever a completely ordinary shopping experience. Market

research undertaken over several months had revealed that the Scottish

housewife in the cheaper end of the supermarket retail business was far

more likely to be attracted to a store where the staff were well-behaved,

good looking and smart young men, dressed in neat uniforms, than they

ever would be in a supermarket populated by a range of old dames. A neat

marketing ploy and one that worked. While the customers were admiring the

staff, they were less likely to question the calorific and artificial

coloring in the dubious produce on sale. The boys themselves would be

part of the temptation for the customers to spend in the store. Of

course, it helped greatly that, while McCormack was outwardly a very

straight ladies man, he had a finely-tuned eye for a good looking, cocky,

sexy young man with a tight shapely butt, and he liked to populate his

surroundings with them.

The young gentlemen assistants, or, rather, lads, were chosen almost

uniquely on the basis of their prospective sexual appeal to young mothers

and indeed old grannies. It had nothing to do with their retail, sales,

or arithmetic ability and everything to do with their looks and attitude.

Which is just as well, because pretty much all the successful candidates

had bundles of the latter two and virtually zero of the first three.

McCormack would take care of facts and figures, the lads would get the

money rolling into the store. To assist with recruitment and retention,

McCormack relied on his friend and ally Andy White - a blond, smooth

sexy man. Andy was a 28 year old policeman, married with three young

kids. He had fallen into married life through the police force, but in

fact he had always been gay and he knew it. He had tried to conceal it,

and to a large extent still did, but after he and McCormack got together

one night when they both cruised the banks of the Clyde in the city

centre, they became firm friends. Andy was an expert in finding talent

for the store, which was due to open on 16 March 2005. He could encourage

just the type to apply that, for a start, were too thick, stupid, or just

plain criminal to get a job anywhere else. Probationers, young offenders,

former school truants, tough, rough boys in general. Andy knew that

McCormack would give them a chance to excel in ways they could hardly

imagine. Not only that, McCormack and Andy both made absolutely sure that

all the lads had outstanding warrants for their arrest for some petty

misdemeanour or other. They were safe as long as they stayed at the

supermarket store and behaved themselves for Andy and McCormack.

The six lads chosen were told to report to collect their uniforms at 7.30

on the opening day. They were warned to be punctual or face the

consequences if they weren't. In the event, only four of the six shop

assistants arrived by 7.30, two were late. Andy and McCormack disliked

unpunctuality and unreliability intensely and enjoyed dishing out

punishment for such lateness and general uselessness equally much. It

didn't do to upset them, especially on opening day. Andy had gone

straight to the supermarket after a night shift to ensure a smooth start

to McCormack's supermarket, which he intended to run more like an

American barracks in Iraq than a convenience store.

In the changing rooms at the rear of the store, the lads' uniforms were

laid out, each measurement having previously been meticulously taken down

at interview stage to ensure a tight and accurate fit. The four lads had

turned up in their day to day casual clothes - fake designer sportswear,

most of it. Stevie Jones was first. A sweet and innocent looking but

tough and very sexy 20 year old in a blue nylon soccer shirt with white

trainers and white nylon jogging pants. Lyle Duff, a cocky, 18 year-old

Mancunian thug with dark brown eyes and buzzcut dark hair. He was smooth,

tanned and athletic. He had arrived at 7 am, straight from his morning

jog in Puma trainers and purple nylon vest and running shorts. McCormack

was not impressed with the sweaty, sexy runner arriving unwashed to wear

the new uniform. 'Get - your - self - washed - right - now - you

cock - y - bas - tard' barked McCormack. He liked to bark out

instructions in this military, monosyllabic grunt. Recruits always

responded and Lyle Duff was no exception. He was in the hot changing room

shower and out again in the line up with only a gigantic white towel

wrapped around his waist. The back of the towel, Andy noted with a smirk,

exposed an inch of ass crack and beautifully outlined the fabulous

bubblebut which, unbeknownst to Lyle of course, had secured his job in

the first place. McCormack barked out to the lads that he knew they were

wanted for minor crimes of shoplifting and theft, but if they played the

game and worked properly, they would be given a chance at Soopersave.

Third candidate was 20 year old Donald Buchanan. Buchanan had been in and

out of trouble for a few years. Turning up with a shaved head containing

an incut swirl design above the word CELTIC was sure to unleash

McCormack's ire. Even though the total cocky look on the dumb fuck's

face caused his cock to swell in his pants. 'What - the - fock - is

- that - on - your - fockin' - head'. He always pronounced his

fucks Geldof style. 'Dunno Mr'.

'It's Mis - ter Mac - Cor - Mack - fockin - Sir - to - you -

boy', yelled McCormack as he slapped 6 foot 3 inch Donnie round the back

of the head. Donnie wore a collection of chains around his neck under a

white V-neck cut-off sleeve pullover. A white earring in his left ear.

Red skin-tight trousers revealing a Ben Sherman underwear label at the

top. Blue trainers. Oh yes, the ladies would enjoy watching him stack the

cornflakes on the bottom shelf, ass aloft, thighs spread. 'Yes sir, yes

Mr McCorgan.'

'Mc-Cor-MACK, It's Mc Cor-MACK. Are - you - deaf? Don't you

listen?'

'No Sir. I mean yes Sir Mr McCormack'.

'Bet-ter. Much bet-ter. Now lets look at the last of the two thirds of

you brats who have both-er-ed to show up!' The last was Davey. Davey

delighted in the appropriate Scottish surname Dick. Davey Dick. Whichever

way round you said it was funny. Dick Davey. Davey Dick. He was 18 and

sexy, and his name pretty much described him, his attitude and his

intelligence. A first class swimmer, 5'10' with a V shaped torso and

short, brown hair with a cute smile, he had left school with no

qualifications and now found himself working for Soopersave for £3.99 an

hour. McCormack hadn't heard of the minimum wage. He had gone straight

from Scotland to Iraq and back and somehow overlooked European Union

legislation on the way. Cute Davey wore a cut off ribbed T shirt that

exposed his belly button and baggy ripped jeans with a silver studded

belt which hung halfway down his ass exposing about 4 inches of sexy

black underwear at the rear and two at the front. The cockiest of all

looks. Over and above the £3.99, the lads would be expected to make up

the rest of their wages in 'tips'. The four young, cocky men were shown

their uniforms before them. Andy adjusted the chairs and McCormack told

the lads to strip. In their desperation to please the slowly smouldering

McCormack, who paced around them like a caged tiger, trousers were

unbuttoned and hit the floor, shirts flew off and Lyle's towel was

unwrapped. Soon they were in their underwear and stood laughing at each

other. Davey and Stevie wolf-whistled at Lyle and pointed at his 5 inch

flaccid cock, pointing out of a lush dark bush.

'All of your pants off. No underwear. I supply the underwear. None of

your fancy briefs Mr Dick. No Calvin Klein shorts Mr Buchanan. Get them

off NOW'. The lads looked sheepish as they were forced to expose their

penises and asses for McCormack's inspection. They protested. 'Aw Sir.

Do we have to sir?' But they could see it was no use. Down came the

pretty boys' knickers. Out came a beautiful set of young cocks. Andy

took great delight in pointing this out to McCormack. 'Big equipment on

these boys eh Geoff? Amazed they can stand up straight with that amount

of weight on one side!' he laughed. Geoffrey McCormack pretended to be

unimpressed. 'That will do Mr White. Get the uniforms on quickly lads,

we don't have all day. Fuss and commotion ensued as the lads unwrapped

the outfits and put them on for the first time. Each outfit was

identical. White long-sleeved shirt, electric blue elasticated bow-tie,

skin-tight navy blue briefs with an inch of material joining at the hips,

equally skin-tight black, polyester drainpipe trousers, black, nylon,

knee-length ribbed socks and shiny patent leather slip-on shoes.

'I'm not wearing these fuckin' girl guides' fuckin' socks and

shoes,' protested Stevie.

'Me neither. Look like a right fuckin' poof in them,' chimed in Lyle.

'You look like a right fuckin' poof anyway,' countered Donnie.

'Watch your fuckin' mouth, cuntface,' shouted Lyle, as he sized up to

punch Donnie in the gut.

McCormack divided and ruled. And he secretly enjoyed the insubordination

in the ranks. 'Get those clothes on NOW or you will all be on that shop

floor in - the - nude - with - your - cocks - out - for - the

-ladies. Now get on with it. Store opens in 20 minutes.'

The lads put on the ridiculous, humiliating yet sexy uniforms. Andy ogled

the young men in their tight, blue briefs. All four in the same briefs.

They looked like an Olympic swim relay team and an Australian one at

that. McCormack admired his handiwork and the taut globular buttocks of

his staff. He and Andy had chosen well. Lyle suddenly noticed that the

cheap, man made fibres of the trousers were not the only thing they

contained that was man made. 'Eurgh! It looks like some fucker's cum in

these!' he complained, examining a white stain in the crotch area of the

pair he held. 'Yeah, mine too. Christ. Yuck,' chorused Donnie, as he

tucked his chains inside his shirt and inspected the trousers. McCormack,

who, like any Scotsman, knew a good deal when he saw one, had opted for

second hand trousers cast off after the soldier's ball at the end of a

six week mountain challenge. Clearly some of the military men had got so

excited at the sight of female flesh after a month up a Cairngorm that

they had shot their wad straight in the trousers. McCormack had been

taking a few deep sniffs of the semen stains and thought it a shame to

wash them. He thought the lads would never notice the pearly stains

inside the zipper lining.

'Get them on. Get them on. Do - not - answer back.'

In a few minutes the lads were dressed and Andy handed out the ultimate

fashion accessories: the name badges and the cheap black baseball caps.

Each badge bore the name of the supermarket followed by the word 'pet'.

'Soopersave Pet DAVE', 'Soopersave Pet DONNIE' and so on. The lads

felt utterly humiliated at having to wear these stupid badges as well as

the uniforms and were crestfallen, despite how cute they looked. Their

thin trousers were so tight that the outline of their briefs was clearly

visible, bisecting each teenage buttock beneath the cheap, black fabric.

Their cheap, nylon baseball caps were handed out next, each bearing the

SOOPERSAVE moniker in yellow on the front. Andy surveyed the lads

exquisitely packaged cocks and balls. The outline of their straight,

eager cocks was clearly visible and Andy noted with enthusiasm that two

dressed to the right and two to the left.

'Must feel a bit uncomfortable with balls that big Lyle,' he jested, as

Lyle looked down to see his tackle clearly outlined like a set of

shuttlecocks. The other lads gathered round to have a laugh and wolf

whistled.

'Whose a big boy then Lyle?' joked Donnie in a put-on effeminate voice.

'That should get the pussies dribbling!' shouted Stevie, as he grabbed

his own crotch and thrust it backwards and forwards; 'Wh-ha-hay - take

this lot girls'. The horseplay was just getting under way when the two

latecomers turned up. With just ten minutes to go before store opening,

the final two thirds of the line up arrived. 19 year old, 5'6' cutie

Scott Tyler and staggeringly good looking 20 year old Gez Anderson had

finally made it. Scott was extra cocksure and wore his dark blond hair

gelled up in random spikes. He was the kind McCormack liked. Gez was

painfully sexy. Also 5'6', with very short, dark hair and a wide, warm

smile, Gez had been a bus driver until PC Andy White got involved when he

touched up a young female passenger in the terminus. Andy ensured the

police report got Gez the sack in order to recommend him to McCormack,

and here he was. But even McCormack didn't think anyone would dare to

turn up late at HIS supermarket on opening day.

Scott and Gez burst out laughing when they saw the other lads in their

embarrassing uniforms.

'What a load of fucking jessies. What DO they look like!' laughed

Scott, as cockily as ever.

'Right bunch of ponces. Fuckin' hell,' said Gez, hardly able to

contain himself.

'And - ex-act-ly WHAT do you two little bastards mean by turning up

late and then having the au-dac-it-y to mock my brand new un-i-forms?'

'They're not new they've got friggin' spunk in the crotch,' retorted

Stevie, as the other lads stifled suppressed giggles.

'Shut - the - fuck - up - boy,' yelled McCormack. You two - up to

my office on the first floor, I'll deal with you two in a minute. Get up

there.

'OK, OK, we're going,' muttered Gez and Scott as McCormack ogled their

bouncing butts encased in nylon trackie bottoms zipping up the staircase.

'Go into my office, sit down, and behave. I'll be up shortly with your

uniforms. The rest of you, get out on the shop floor and look pretty. We

open in two minutes.' The other four lads moved out sheepishly as Andy

showed them to the door entrance to greet the first customers as they

came in.

As the doors opened for the first new customers, McCormack had hoped to

be there to greet the first new customers, but as it was he had to leave

Andy to that duty. He knew what he had to do. With a glint in his eye he

headed up the staircase to his office to deal with the two insolent

bratty boys who had had the audacity to arrive late. He was looking

forward to dealing with them. When he got up to his office Scott and Gez

were sitting in their sexy clothes on two chairs in front of his desk.

'Well, what -have -we -here -then?' asked McCormack?

'Dunno Mister,' retorted Scott, chewing insolently on some bubblegum

and blowing out a giant, sweet, pink balloon which exposed his metal

ball-bearing tongue stud.

''Dunno Mister' is not the sort of answer I am looking for, you little

cunt, replied McCormack. 'Just look at the clothes you are wearing.

It's not funny. Not funny at all.' Scott wore a blue running vest with

bright pink nylon jogging bottoms and Gez a blue Chelsea top with white

jogging pants. Both wore Hi-Top basketball trainers. 'Take off those

trousers immediately.'

'Oh but Mister McCormack, that's not fair, Sir.'

'Fair? Fair? When was anything ever fair?'

The cheeky lads reluctantly slid their jogging bottoms down over their

pert, athletic little butts and down their muscly, sinewy thighs as

McCormack ogled every move and every second. Gez wore a very skimpy pair

of red briefs which left nothing to the imagination and his cock was

clearly already half hard. A small damp patch had already appeared at the

centre of his briefs. Both took their tops off to reveal smooth chests

and tight, sharp little nipples. A barbed-wire tattoo adorned Scott's

right bicep. He now wore just a brief little pair of turquoise briefs,

basically two triangles of cotton with a white elastic strap reading

'Cockypants' holding them together at the hip. McCormack could clearly

see his masculinity outlined beneath the knickers but there was something

obscuring the end of the lad's cock.

'Cockypants? I'll give you fuckin' cockypants. Get those fuckin'

girls' knickers off now', yelled McCormack. The lads protested but

realised they weren't going anywhere. Reluctantly they shucked off their

briefs and stood their in just their trainers and white sports socks.

McCormack's eyes nearly boggled out of his head when he saw what was

attached to the end of Scott's penis.

'What the fuck is that? You dirty, dirty, lad. What the hell are you

thinking of coming into MY store wearing THAT?' He pointed at the end of

Scott's dick. A huge, shiny, metal ring, about three-quarters of an inch

across had been inserted in the end of his penis, which was about 5

inches even flaccid. The ring matched a smaller one in the little brat's

left nipple, and another in his right ear.

'You've got more decorations than a fuckin' Christmas tree boy,'

barked McCormack. Scott looked embarrassed and looked down at his meat.

His cocky, stiff, spiky hair glinted as he moved his head and the light

caught it. His chunky metal neck chain clinked as he scratched his neck.

'We are going to have to teach you a lesson, aren't we Scottyboy? What

are we going to do?'

Silence. Gez's pecs twitched as he surveyed his own cock.

'I said what are we going to do, Scottyboy?'

'Don't know Sir.'

'Don't know? Don't know? I said we're going to teach you a fuckin'

lesson, Scottyboy. Now you two get your fuckin' trainers off and put

your uniforms on. You will not be late again, is that clear?'

'Yes sir.'

'Otherwise you know what will happen. I'm not going to wait any more,

just get down on that shop floor in those uniforms and do - not - ans

- wer - back.'

Scott and Gez looked at their stupid uniforms and couldn't believe they

were going to go along with it. 'SUPERSAVE PET SCOTT,' said the badge.

Scott got into the ridiculous outfit and put on the stupid hat, which

messed up his hair, much to McCormack's delight. 'If I find a fuckin'

hair out of place, you know what I'll do, don't you?'

'SUPERSAVE PET GEOFFREY', said Gez's badge. 'Geoffrey? Fuckin'

Geoffrey?' scoffed Gez. 'I'm not wearing that.'

'I've had just about enough of you two. Get those outfits on and get

down to the shop floor at the double,' barked the camp commander. 'I

will deal with you two later. You won't be going anywhere in a hurry.'

On the shop floor the customers started to file in. One by one the women

surveyed the new bargains and their eyes were taken by the Pets

themselves. Six foot three, 20 year old, skinhead Donnie soon had

virtually his own fan club as four women stood there and watched the

hooligan stacking baked beans on the second shelf. His metal neck chains

were visible under the thin, white, polyester shirt as he moved backwards

and forwards. The strip lighting caught the earring in his ear. The women

pointed and giggled from behind as they spotted the visible line of the

very tight white briefs beneath the skin-tight, black, nylon material of

the trousers. As he bent, the trousers rode down to reveal half an inch

of briefs and half an inch of ass crack above that.

'You're showing us your bottom, you naughty boy!' giggled 60 year-old

Maureen to her friend. Donnie leapt up and turned round embarrassedly.

One of the women caught sight of the cap and the badge. 'Ooooh look

girls - he's a supersave pet!

'Sexy one too - do you think that means he gives a discount for a

shag?' cackled Maureen. They were caught up in their jokes as they

mocked the helpless toughie in his pathetic uniform.

'Can we rent you out after store closes? Looks like you've got plenty

of meat to go round, don't it girls!' chuckled Maureen's friend Morag

as they surveyed the size of Donnie's cock, clearly outlined in his

tight lunchbox. The material was so flimsy you could even tell that he

was uncut.

'He ain't Jewish anyway!' pointed out Morag to much merriment.

'Lovely little pet, and look at his lovely big willy!' she cooed as she

deliberately demeaned and embarrassed the boy to the hilt. Big, mean

Donnie was not so mean now. Morag patted the boy on the behind.

'Show us your knickers then, big boy!' shouted Maureen, becoming more

and more obnoxious.

'I don't think I....' muttered Donnie.

''Supersave Pet Donnie', it says, and we've been told in the adverts,

haven't we, girls, 'There's Pets in Store For The Girls Who Want

More!'' It was true, that was how the advert had run in the local

paper.

'Oh this one's just a shy one. Let me have a go!' shouted Morag as she

cheekily went up to Donnie, undid his trouser button and yanked the tight

trousers down to his thighs. It all happened so quickly that Donnie

didn't have time to react. Suddenly his tiny briefs and bubble ass were

on display for the ladies.

'Look at his lovely pants!'

'Look at what's in them. My,my, he's a big boy, isn't he!'

'Thighs like tree trunks. Ooh I'm getting' moist at the thought!'

cackled the oldest of the women.

At that point, Andy White whipped round the corner so see what the

commotion was.

'Excuse me ladies. Has this boy been misbehaving? Taking your trousers

down IN THE STORE?' queried Andy, genuinely having no idea what

happened.

'Yes and he threatened to show us his willy, too, the filthy young

beast!' said Morag, niftily backing the women out of the situation.

'That's OK ladies, I'll deal with him, you go on your way.' The women

turned and giggled, muttering about what the poor lad's fate would be.

'Get your trousers on immediately, you stupid boy,' yelled Andy. And

don't let McCormack see you like this. Donnie protested his innocence.

'Enough! I'll see you at lunchtime - 12 o'clock sharp - for

discipline proceedings with Mr McCormack. Be there in the office or there

will be hell to pay'.

McCormack, meanwhile, was waiting in the stock room for the delivery boy,

Brad Magee, and was keen to get Scott and Gez on the supermarket floor in

the meantime. Brad Magee was another jewel in McCormack's crown. A 20

year-old with a beautiful gymnast's physique, he had honed his body

playing five-a-side football and had worked at McCormack's stores since

he was 18. He knew what McCormack was like and knew he had to please him

or he'd lose his job. Right on time he turned up, 10 o'clock, wearing

his khaki back-to-front baseball cap, sand coloured boots, and tight blue

nylon dungaree overalls, exposing his back, arms and the upper part of

his chest. Under his overalls he wore only skimpy white briefs, the sexy

outline of which was clearly visible when he bent to pick up a box of

bananas.

'Where do you want these, Mr McCormack, Sir?'

McCormack stifled a laugh at the question. He'd have loved to tell him

exactly where to stick them. 'Over there son, on the fruit shelf'. Brad

continued to bob backwards and forwards with his boxes as McCormack

surveyed his lithe, athletic body in every imaginable pose.

'Don't hang around, Brad, you know we have business at 10.30.'

Brad hated the 'business', but knew he had to go along with it.

McCormack just enjoyed humiliating the cocky, sexy lad. McCormack ran a

website offering the lads' services at the supermarkets he had opened.

It clearly stated that the new Craigvue branch would be the best ever,

and customers were invited to come along to the supermarket to pick their

favourite boy for 'Supermarket pet playtime'. The lads in the

supermarket were sure to be a huge draw.

This particular morning, following a request from a 60 year-old customer

called Giles Warburton, a retired headmaster, a webcam had been set up

for an internet group called 'Jock Teasers'. This particular group

enjoyed seeing young men humiliated on web cams, and Brad was to be their

latest show. About 17 guys had logged on for this one, which they had

been looking forward to all week. Warburton arrived punctually and

McCormack ushered Brad into the 'Entertainments Room' behind the stock

room. This was a play area complete with padded leather walls, an

exercise bench and horse, stocks, paddles, you name it. Everything

required to keep young men in trim was locked away in this play pen.

'Gentlemen viewers, I present Bradley!' announced Warburton. Led by

McCormack, who was loving it, Brad swaggered into the room, his bubble

butt showcased in the tight material of the overalls and the waistband of

his briefs clearly visible at the base of his naked back. Warburton led

Brad to a spot where he could be seen head to toe by the camera. He

explained to the perverted viewers that they were going to have a game of

'Simon Says'. Warburton would bark ridiculous instructions and every

time Brad got something wrong, not difficult in that particular stupid

fuck's case, there would be a forfeit. Warburton, McCormack and the

viewers just loved it as Brad tried to keep up with the stupid

instructions.

'Simon says 'left hand on your head'....Simon says 'rub your tummy

with your right hand'.... Simon says 'jump up and down three

times'...Ah! But he didn't say 'take your hand off your head', did he,

laughed Warburton as the stupid lad took his hand away by mistake when he

jumped. For the first forfeit, Warburton attached metal nipple clamps,

connected by a chain, onto both the lad's taut little hat peg tits. More

jumping, more movements. Suddenly Brad held up the wrong amount of

fingers. McCormack suggested tipping a carton of double cream inside

Brad's briefs and making him do twenty jumping jacks. 'That should look

pretty funny!' Warburton agreed as McCormack handed the carton to him

and held open the front of the dungarees so that he could pour the sticky

liquid in. Brad winced at the embarrassment of it all. As he was forced

to do the jumping exercise, the cream ran down his legs and squished

around inside his little briefs, making his cock slime with drips of

precum and harden slightly. More Simon says orders. Another mistake of

not following orders correctly. This time, a packet of frozen peas were

hurled down the back of his briefs as a forfeit.

'Oh fuck me that's cold! Jesus that's freezing my fuckin' ass off!'

yelled Brad, as his buttocks felt the ice.

'Well, you'd better shake your ass to thaw it out then, hadn't you?'

The two onlookers and the numerous viewers were rewarded with the sight

of Brad shaking his gloriously masculine ass with the ludicrous aim of

warming up the frozen packet. The desperate look in his clear, crystal

blue eyes was hysterical. He was ordered to do some more Simon Says games

with the freezing vegetables down his briefs. Predictably, he soon fucked

up, by standing on his left leg when Simon told him to stand on his right

leg. The penalty to pay was also a predictable one.

'Undo your dungarees, Brad, and show us your body in just those

briefs,' laughed Warburton. Brad looked shell-shocked, but realised he

had no option, and cautiously slipped the overalls over his slick body

and onto the floor. There he stood, his muscled chest glowing, just

briefs and working boots shielding his sexual organs from everyone's

gaze.

'Time for a bit of disco dancing,' said McCormack, as the remains of

the cream weighed down the front of Brad's pants and trickled down his

leg. Brad was ordered to bop and dance to the sound of seventies disco

music while everyone watched his cock and balls bounce in their cotton

pouch. Suddenly, McCormack bellowed a Simon Says instruction for Brad to

freeze, but Brad misheard him and kept dancing. Bad news for Bradley. He

was told that the next embarrassment would be a real show. Warburton then

announced that his sixteen year old grand-daughter, Juliette, had missed

her sex education classes and was yet to get a boyfriend. She had asked

her grandfather some awkward questions about boys, and Warburton had

decided that Brad was the lad to answer them.

'I have invited my grand-daughter here today because she is sexually

quite inexperienced and has no idea how young gentlemen's penises

function. It is my intention that you will show her what goes on.' With

that he ushered his 16 year old grand-daughter into the room. She looked

wide-eyed at the sexy young man before her and sniggered at his

nakedness. Brad sniffed as he looked at the singularly unattractive,

overweight, spotty faced girl in front of him.

'Juliette, this is Bradley. He is a masculine 20 year old man and has

volunteered to masturbate himself so that you can see how semen is

produced.'

'You mean I'm going to see him erm ... jaculate?'

'It's Ejaculate, Juliette, but yes, that is the idea, yes.' The

internet viewers salivated at the thought. 'Brad, please remove your

underwear and start to masturbate your penis so that Juliette can see

everything you do.

'Oh fuck no, I ain't gonna wank in front of her,' yelled Brad.

'It's an order young man. Pull on your penis right now, and tell

Juliette everything you feel so that she knows what to expect when she is

copulating with a young man.'

'Fuck me, this is pervy,' muttered Brad, but pulled off his briefs

anyway. He started to tug disinterestedly on his cock and it soon began

to rise.

'See how his penis becomes engorged with blood as he starts to stimulate

it with his hand. Look, he's becoming sexually aroused and his

testicles, that's to say balls, are starting to rise up towards his

pelvis. That means you want to have babies, doesn't it Brad?'

'It means I've got the fuckin' horn, mate,' retorted Brad.

'Quite so, young man. Tell the young lady what you are feeling as you

finger your penis, Brad.'

Brad looked completely embarrassed and said he felt a sexual tingling in

his groin.

'Perhaps you would like to touch and stroke the young man's penis,

Juliette?' suggested McCormack, somewhat mischievously.

'Yes please! I'd like to touch it!' cooed the silly girl.

'Stick your stiff penis out and let her stroke it, boy,' ordered

Warburton, as Brad reached full erection, his purple, glistening glans

swelled and a drop of clear liquid appeared at the tip.

'What's that sticky messy, goo?' asked Juliette, much to Brad's

embarrassment, as he stuck out his hips and let the girl touch the tip of

his foreskin.

'That's my precum. It shows I'm ready to erm .... make babies,'

stuttered Brad, as McCormack nodded to him to explain himself. Juliette

felt around his fully erect cock and in his shaved balls as he got more

and more excited.

'Oooh fuck! Ooh fuck!' he cried as she unwittingly gave his dick the

featherlite touch and excited the boy to the point of climax. He stood up

on his tiptoes: 'I'm gonna shoot. Fuck I'm gonna shoot my c-c-cum.

Ooh. Fuck yeah.'

The girl continued to manipulate the rude cock as Brad puckered his lips

and threw back his head in orgasmic excitement.

'He's a dirty boy, isn't he, Grandad?' said the girl, laughing as he

encouraged her to play with the enormous eight inch penis.

'He certainly is a very naughty lad. I hope you are not going to go off

and play with boys like him. This will teach you a valuable lesson, my

dear,' warned Warburton

'Oooh Jeez, oh fuck, oh, I can't help it, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna

cum if she keeps....oh Jesus Christ....'

Juliette laughed and kept fingering the excited boy's cock. Suddenly he

lurched up as his thigh muscles tightened and screamed as his body

reached climax. The chat room went mad as the viewers made their

voyeuristic observations: 'Go for it lad', 'show the girl what a man

you are', 'give her the cum, boy' etc. Huge gluey blobs of cum duly

rocketed out of his dick and splattered the girl's pretty bright blue

pinafore dress. She looked aghast as the white ropes of semen poured out

of Brad's thick, pulsating penis. On and on it shot. The girl looked

completely aghast at the volume and ferocity of the boy's juice and

dismayed at the mess he made of her new dress.

'There, there, Juliette, the nasty boy will apologise, won't you

Brad?'

'Sorry Miss, I couldn't... couldn't help it. I got so excited. I'm

sorry I got my semen everywhere.'

Juliette batted his big, bouncing penis back and drips of cum flew across

the room.

'Thank you Brad, thank you, you may put your overalls on again and get

back to unloading the van. That's quite enough naughtiness for one

morning. Tell the poor girl you didn't mean to soil her new dress with

your semen.'

'Sorry miss, I didn't mean to wank my semen all over your dress.'

'Tell her you'll take more care in future'.

'Sorry, miss, I'll be careful with my cum in future,' said Brad,

horrified that there would be a repeat show.

'Thank you Mr McCormack,' spluttered Brad, as he pulled his briefs back

on and the last blobs of cum dripped out of the end of his cock and ran

down his leg.

 

badboiz

[email protected]

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