Soopersaver Pets

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.