'That's OK Brad, thanks for the entertainment! You can go and clean
that cum off your cock and tell your mate that he is due on in five
minutes,' slobbered Warburton, as he lasciviously eyed the lad's cock
popping back in to his sexy underwear. There were now over thirty viewers
on the Jock Teasers website and they were very excited that this week
there was to be a second lad on show for them. Some of the viewers had
already blown their wads while they were watching Brad put through his
paces and now there was more to come. They would have to coax their limp
dicks to another orgasm over one more horny toy hunk, about to be
humiliated for their pleasure. It was all too delicious. Warburton
started to introduce the next fun and games as McCormack wheeled the
equipment required into view: a vaulting horse, a small children's
paddling pool, a rowing machine and a wooden chair contraption.
'Our next young gentleman is Tony Cockbright,' sniggered Warburton at
the amusing surname, as he saw the website fill with lewd observations
about the name such as 'bet it is', 'yeh nice shiny helmet hehe'.
'Tony,' continued Warburton 'is a young plumber and football player
from Cambuslang who has just been kicked out of his job for shagging his
boss's wife. Well, that boss, Harry Stevens is a mate of mine and has
arranged for Tomas to come over here and entertain us for free, otherwise
he will make sure Tomas's girlfriend gets to find out about his bit on
the side. Needless to say, Harry will be looking carefully at the show
tonight via internet to see the brat who pumped his 47 year old wife full
of dirty teenage boy cum get the treatment he deserves. Tomas is only
5'7' but he makes up for that in the cock department, I can assure
you', giggled Warburton salaciously.
Plenty of amusement in the chatroom that the lad would have to do
everything required of him or his girlfriend would find out.
'So let's introduce our cheeky, cocky playmate, Mr Tomas Cockbright!'
announced Warburton. Tomas came in looking cocky and sheepish in a white
baseball cap and red cotton overalls with zip front, red puma sneakers
and green and white Celtic soccer socks. His face was as rough as it was
cute, with an almost shorn head, grey-green eyes, his tongue hanging out
licking his lips in frightened anticipation, and cute little ears, a
diamond stud in the left one. The chatroom went wild with observations on
the lads physique, the tightness of the overalls and the tight little
butt. Tomas hadn't expected this, but Warbuton reminded him of the
penalty if he didn't go along with it. Tomas looked dejected.
'First of all we need to get you out of those overalls,' laughed
Warburton. As Tomas reluctantly made for the zipper, Warburton simply
took out his modelling knife and ran it from the base of the rear of one
trouserleg, right up to the neck. It was so fast that Tomas didn't even
know what had happened. The back of his cheap, nylon fabric overalls had
been quickly shred in two and with one quick tug over each shoulder,
Tomas working gear fell to the floor, exposing a gorgeous smooth chest
and tight little nipples. Warburton pulled the garment away from the
floor as Tomas blushed and murmured 'what the fuck...' It was priceless
and the viewers loved to see this lad looking a complete fool. Tomas's
tormentor surveyed the lad's tight green and white Ginch underpants,
filled with what looked like a sizeable package. No wonder his mate
Harry's wife so easily succumbed to the young man's rough good looks
and sexual charms. Who wouldn't? He looked like he could pump a fountain
of cum seven times a day.
First of all, Warburton announced that the lad would be doing some
exercises in his underpants, socks and sneakers, as he stood there, too
warm him up a bit and let everyone get a good look at his taut, muscular
body in action.
'On the whistle Tommy boy, I want 20 somersaults over the vaulting
horse!' He know Tomas was a gymnast for Scotland under 21s team and was
determined to get a view of his abilities. The whistle blew. As the
viewers started to pull their cocks over the sight of the horny young man
barely dressed and performing for them, McCormack put the filled paddling
pool at the other end of the horse. It contained freezing cold water. As
Tomas began his first athletic vault he realised he was going to land
straight into the cold water.
'And don't forget to complete each jump with the correct termination,
hands in the air, like you would in competition,' mocked McCormack. The
chatroom cracked up with amusement as the first somersault ended up with
Tomas landing on his pretty white gymboi backside in the cold pool,
soaking his briefs. Nevertheless he recovered to do the traditional hand
in the air finish. Another and another, and Tomas's briefs started to
slip down his backside, much to the continued merriment of the chatroom
onlookers. After 10 vaults and a lot of watery mess, Warburton decided
that the lad could continue without the briefs, and as he came past,
sliced them off his backside with the modelling knife, once again so
deftly that the boy didn't see it happen. The ripped briefs clung to his
ripe, bubble butt ass for half a somersault and then flew off revealing
the boy's naked cock and bush. Now nude after the 12th consecutive
vault, and blushing with embarrassment that his five inch flaccid cock
was bouncing about in full view of the internet pervs, Warburton decided
to up the fun content. He stopped Tomas in his tracks and announced that,
as Tomas clearly saw himself as the brightest and sexiest cock on the
circuit, happy enough to stick it up his friend's wife's cunt for
little more than a laugh, there would be further humiliation. He whipped
Tomas's cap of his head and replaced it with a large red cockerel's
coxcomb headpiece. It looked hilarious and everyone giggled at Tomas's
obvious dismay at being made to look an idiot. That was the point, of
course. Warburton then fixed a white belt with coloured cock feathers at
the rear above his ass, as McCormack forced five small lubricated China
eggs, held together like anal beads, up the lad's tight little ass.
Tomas screeched as the eggs were forced up his teenage rectum, and
wondered how he would carry on doing the embarrassing vaults.
'Each time you land in the pool, you will shout 'cock-a-doodle do' as
you lay a little egg for us in the pool by forcing it out of your ass. I
know hens technically lay eggs but who cares about technicalities,'
laughed McCaormack. 'If you fail to lay you must shout it again until it
pops out and you lay it in the pool. And all this would be done to the
sound of Spitting Image's comedy 'The Chicken Song' and the Stones's
'Little Red Rooster', played on repeat loop. Failure will cost. Tomas
was mortified at the show he was having to but on for these sad old
perverts. But he knew he had no choice. He couldn't bear his girlfriend
to hear what he had done, or see the video of his show. So off he went.
It was simply hilarious seeing him in that cockerel costume, his cock
slapping about lewdly from his ample pubic bush, jumping down in the pool
to a shout of 'cock-a-doodle doo' as he grunted and forced a porcelain
egg out of his straining anus. What a show it was. Tomas managed to shit
out an egg on each round, and finished off the last three drenched,
shouting the stupid phrase at the end of each round. It was hilarious.
The viewers pounded their cocks over the seeing-to the young buck was
getting and couldn't wait to see what was coming next. The soaked lad
was already very sweaty, wet and exhausted, but hurled straight on to the
rowing machine for some more exercise. This time, he was to pull sixty
strokes of the oars and row the equivalent of two miles in less than four
minutes. In the nude apart from his coxcomb cap and sneakers. The snag
was that when he sat in the rowing chair, he realised the seat contained
a five inch buttplug, onto which he would impale himself after every pull
on the machine. The viewers realised that they were literally going to
see the gorgeous, toned youth fuck himself rigid while he did his
exercise for them.
'Go!' shouted Warburton excitedly as Tomas yanked on the make-believe
oars and fucked his cute ass with every movement of the machine. The
viewers went wild as they closely observed the young man's face
contorted into a four-way delicious grimace of sexual agony, sexual
pleasure, embarrassment and exhaustion. Not only that, but they soon saw
that his cock had started to rise to full erection as he pumped the
machine, undoubtedly due to the butt plug gently caressing the lad's
engorged prostate gland deep within his probed and pulsting anus. Even
Tomas couldn't understand why he was getting erect, but he was getting
there fast. Pearls of clear, dewy precum emerged at the end. Tomas's by
now fully erect penis was an eight-inch smooth, dream to behold. The rock
sold erectile tissue formed a solid groove down the lower side of his
cock as it flapped about from side to size, bobbing up and down of its
own accord as Tomas sweated and grunted on the machine. The whistle went
and Tomas just made the distance in the last few seconds. He was dripping
'What have we here young man,' teased Warburton as he fingered the tip
of Tomas's proud cock.
'Oh, oh, er shit, sorry I couldn't help it man,' blabbered Tomas.
'No, no on the contrary, get up and let the gentlemen take a good look
at your penis in all its erect glory', instructed Warburton. The camera
closed in on cheeky Tommy's flaring piss slit and Warburton squeezed the
end to give everyone a good look at the rude lad's gaping, pinky purple,
teenage cum hole. Several shot their wads at the site but couldn't take
their eyes off the screen. McCormack grabbed the cocky teen by the ear
and led him to a large, polished, wooden chair contraption with a high
back. Before dumb Tomas could cotton on to what was happening, his hands
were whipped up above his head and secured in metal handcuffs, a leather
belt was strapped round his waist, and his legs stretched apart and
secured in straps over each arm of the chair. That left his hard cock and
tight young balls exposed for the finale. Warburton had decided that the
lad's cock needed to be shaved and denuded of its bush so that everyone
could get a clear look at the boy's genitals. Who better to do this that
his extremely effeminate hairdresser friend Austin McCrae. Austin, who
must have been all of 70 years old, had been looking forward to shaving
the young man's crotch all day and all week, and minced in, cooing at
the gorgeousness of the tied up and squirming specimen they had ready for
'Would sir like a parting? Crew cut?' joked McCrae.
'Fuck this is perverted,' shouted the insolent lad to the delight of
all involved. Cocks were being pumped faster than ever on the website, as
the boy's cock was fondled and McCrae took the clippers and shaver to
his pride and joy. The effeminate old man made no disguise of the fact
that he was enjoying keeping the squirming brat at full erection as the
soft white foam was applied and the humiliated cocky gymnast recoiled
with embarrassment at the gay man having fun manipulating his cock and
balls. In ten minutes his equipment was dusted down and wiped off and his
hard cock stood up like a monkey wrench, his pubic area as smooth and
clean as a baby. McCrae dusted the crotch off with talcum powder to rub
in the point.
'No, who wants to see the lad produce a bit more sperm?' teased
Warburton? 'Well, I think it's about time. I have invited my friend
Harry over to do the deed. The friend whose delightful wife Anna was the
lady this dirty brat decided to fuck for a bit of a laugh. And I am
delighted to say, his wife is coming too!
'N-n-n-noooo!' squealed Tomas, 'not both of them!' He was mortified
at the humiliation about to ensue. His casual shag and her furious
husband were going to wank him off for a bit of fun, laugher and revenge.
But there was more to come. Harry had decided to humiliate him further by
reading a Tomas The Spunk Engine kiddies' story to him as his wife
started to fondle his erect penis. The viewers found it hysterically
funny as Tomas was made to wear a Tomas The Spunk Engine train driver's
cap and a baby bib, for any spillages, round his neck. The bib had baby
steam engines all over in order to humiliate the hunk to the hilt. The
piece de resistance was a little lubed up cut-off Tomas The Spunk Engine
children's drinking straw, which was about 3 inches long and a quarter
inch wide, and which Harry had inserted into the petrified lad's cum
slit. It was a nice cosy fit and looked hilarious, with the little
smiling engine motifs up it. When Tomas finally came his goo was going to
flow up the straw and spurt out the tip like a little boy funnel of cum.
The straw felt strange inside Tomas's urethra and he squirmed to get
himself free, but it never happened, he was stuck there for the duration.
The lady and gent pulled away on the nasty boy's cock, laughing and
cheering as they got their revenge and brought him ever closer to the
orgasm that everyone wanted to see.
'Warburton told the lad that when he felt he was about to cream he HAD
to whoop and whistle like a real stream train. If he didn't, he would
ring Tomas's girlfriend there and then and tell all.' Tomas couldn't
believe the final humiliation. Acting like a fool for the pleasure of
these perverts. Yuck. And so he groaned and moaned as they fondled his
young, hard pectorals and twisted his nips. Suddenly he bucked his hips
as he tried to stop himself from orgasming in front of these dreadful
people. But his muscular legs contorted and writhed and he couldn't stop
himself. 'Woo woo! Woosh woosh', chirped the lad like a toy train, as
desperately as he could, as the semen started to pump from his cock. His
legs juddered in excitement as he orgasmed and his feet twisted with the
painful pleasure of enforced climax. Suddenly the funniest think
happened. The boy's cum was forced up the narrow straw with such a blast
that a fountain of semen squirted up and hit him in his own face, as
Harry's wife tugged on the boy's shaft. Then another jet of white hot
semen spurted out and across Tomas's baby bib. More cum squirted out of
the tip of the straw and back down over his pulating purple glans, as
Tomas continued to grunt and make the embarrassing train noises. It was
over. Warburton thanks everyone for watching and participating. He
thanked everyone but Tomas, who he unshackled and kicked out of the door,
throwing his wet underpants and torn overalls after him. Poor Tomas would
have to hitch home in his sexy torn gear. But then again he should have
thought of that before he took on Warburton, McCormack and their gang.
Tomas wasn't going to try that trick again. Or was he? The online
viewers at any rate couldn't wait to get their eyes on another show. But
now there was business to attend to. McCormack knew that the lads on the
shop floor could be up to all manner of mischief by now. He decided he
ought to go out onto the bright supermarket floor and see how his pets
were doing while Warburton and Harry cleared up, still laughing at having
got their own back on the cocky sod who cuckolded Harry, and at making a
tidy sum from internet viewers at the same time. It was nearly 11.30 and
the customers were filling the shop for the opening day bargains. The
four older women who manned the check-outs signalled their approval for
McCormack's choice of Soopersaver Pets when he asked them how they
thought it was going.
'That Scott is a right little devil and that Gez is little cheeky monkey
if you ask me, but they've got lovely asses,' cackled Mrs Simmons, old
enough to be the lads' mother - at least. 'Look at those butts bounce,
girls,' she went on. The customers joined in to crane their necks and
ogle the boys in their tight, humiliating uniforms.
McCormack went into full army drill inspection mode.
'Fuck - McCormack's coming to inspect our bottoms,' said Scott to
Gez, only half jokingly, as Lyle overheard and laughed while he stacked
the sugar on the bottom shelf of aisle four and his pert little butt
stuck out, stretching the material in the obscene and ill-fitting
polyester trousers to their utmost.
'So you think it's funny do you, Scottyboy?' snarled McCormack. He
grabbed the insolent, cocky lad by the ear and made him stand up. 'Look
me in the eye. Look me in the eye. Your fucking tie is not straight. Your
top shirt button is undone and you have a speck of some shit or other on
your shoe. Shine it lad, shine it.'
'Can't be fuckin' bothered.'
'What?!' screamed McCormack. 'I'll teach you to answer me back. Come
in the back room. I want to see what you are wearing underneath that
McCormack frogmarched Scott out the back past the delicatessen counter,
and up the stairs into his office. He made the cute lad stand with his
hands behind his back.
'For a start, your cap is on back to front. Peak at the front boy, peak
at the front.' He grabbed Scott's cap and threw it across the room.
Scott gave an arrogant glare as he re-arranged his cocky, spiked up hair
and bounced on his meaty thighs. McCormack was having fun with this.
'Hands behind your back! I want to see if you have disobeyed me. With
that he unzipped the 19 year old's trousers and saw that he had changed
back into his little turquoise Tommy Hilfigers. A pair he had lifted in
town only a few days ago.
'What are those? Fucking girl's knickers?'
'No, sir, they are boy's briefs. Course they're not for girls.'
'Look pretty girly to me,' roared McCormack as he pulled the trousers
down to Scott's ankles and saw that he wasn't wearing the tight,
regulation, knee-length, navy, nylon ribbed socks as prescribed. At this,
McCormack's mood almost boiled right over.
'Where are your Soopersaver socks, boy? What have you done with them?'
'Fuckin' poof's socks, sir.'
'Poof's socks? Poof's socks? They're smart and I require them. Not
these white sports socks that you have changed into. Completely against
my orders. See me back here in the office at 20.00 tonight when the store
closes. You can assist with the director's canape and wine evening. Now
get back to the floor when you have changed into the proper uniform.
Scott got his proper underwear and went back to the floor. Gez asked what
had happened. Lyle and Donnie came over to ask what went on upstairs.
'He fuckin' checked my pants and socks.'
Gez and Lyle roared with laughter. 'What the fuck...?'
'Made me take me runnin' socks off and put these on!'
Scott pulled up his trouser bottoms and pranced and preened mockingly in
the blue socks, pulled right up to his knees.
'Ha ha ha ha, you look a right bloody fairy!' laughed Gez. 'Who's
McCormack fuckin' think he is!'
Scott went on prancing in mock-effeminate gestures, his hand on his hip,
mincing around the fruit counter: 'Who's a pretty boy then!' he sang,
as the other lads wolf whistled when he stuck his ass out.
McCormack caught the end of this performance. 'Get- back- to- work you
cocky little bastards!' he yelled, as a couple of the customers dived
for cover. 'You - Lyle - had just about enough of you. See me after
the store closes.' Lyle Duff was from Manchester, with a drawling, tough
accent to match. His compact, athletic body was just the type to turn
McCormack on. He had plans for the evening. He asked Andy to make sure
the two lads didn't slip away and present them in his office at 20.15 on
In the meantime it was almost midday and time for McCormack and Andy to
greet, if that's the right word, Donnie to discuss the incident in the
morning when he was caught exposing himself in front of a group of women.
McCormack and Andy sniggered as they heard the knock on the door at
'Come in!' Donnie walked in sheepishly. 'Stand to attention. Put your
hands on your head. Do not move!' barked out McCormack, who couldn't
wait to put the lad through his paces.
'What is this I hear about you lowering your trousers in front of
customers this morning, on our first prestigious day?'
'Ain't me it's them, Sir,' retorted Donnie.
'Donald I have heard some unlikely stories in my time but do you think I
seriously believe a hooligan like you would have his uniform trousers
ripped down by a bunch of old housewives?'
'No. Well, yes. I mean they fuckin' did!'
'No need to swear in here. In fact I -will-not tol-er-ate it you little
piece of shit! What are you?'
'I said what are you?'
'Little piece of shit sir.' Andy wanted to giggle at the lad being
teased humiliated in this way and didn't know where to look.
'Quite right, quite right. You will not make an exhibition of yourself
in this way. Now take your trousers off. Shoes off, socks off. I want to
see what all the fuss was about.' Donnie protested but realised it
wasn't worth it. There he stood in his regulation white slimline briefs,
his crisp nylon shirt and the bow tie, with the stupid cap on.
'Nice bulge in those briefs. I expect those ladies got quite a shock
when they saw how big your bollocks are lad. Quite big and fit for a
twenty year old, aren't you?' continued McCormack.
'How often do you masturbate, Donnie?'
'What the....' Stuttered the dumb jock.
'How often do you whack off, you heard?'
'I don't have to answer that,' answered back the tough, arrogant piece
'Better if you do, and quickly, don't waste my time you little worm.'
''Bout a couple of times a day.'
'Well, since you're obviously so keen to impress the ladies, you can do
it here and now, while Andy and I watch. I don't want any more
unforeseen recurrences. Strip naked and jerk your cock.'
'I feel like such a fuckin' faggot.'
'Well you should have thought of that before.' The sexy skinhead
removed everything and stood there pulling his cock for the two managers,
who relished the free, sexy show. Everything was being filmed on a secret
video as part of a plot to get all the lads on film. This could be used
as a bargaining tool should any of them try to escape from McCormack's
control. Soon the cock was up and dripping and within a few minutes
Donnie was on the verge of cumming.
'Ah oh, oh, oh fuck. Here it comes.' Donnie spewed his love juice all
over McCormack's desk. Spatters of cum blobbed over the hideous yellow
block of headed Soopersava notepaper.
'Good. That has removed some of your desire, I sincerely hope,' ranted
McCormack. 'Now get your uniform on properly and get back to work. I
shall expect you, in the morning, to help set up the stripper show. See
you here at 7.30.'
'Stripper show?' queried Donnie. 'What stripper show?'
All in good time, you'll find out what is required soon enough. And
don't think about disappearing anywhere. Your little show just now was
videoed and can be sent to your parents and girlfriend at any time.
Donnie flushed with embarrassment.
'What the fuck?'
'All on tape. Be careful, lad. Have a fun afternoon!'
When the store finally closed and the girls had cashed up, the lads were
rounded up and sent home. All except Scott and Lyle. Andy took them
upstairs once more. They were getting used to the route now.
McCormack confronted them as they were ushered in by Andy.
'Now lads, I want you to be in attendance this evening at the opening
canape evening. I have several important directors coming this evening to
see how the new store is doing, and I want them to be impressed by our
new staff.' Lyle and Scott puffed out their chests and thought they were
there because they looked good. Well, in a way they were. 'If you behave
yourselves and do as you are told there might even be a bonus in it for
one of you.' McCormack knew it was always a good idea to pretend to lads
like this that they were in direct competition with one another. They
were stupid enough to believe it, too. Naturally enough though, the
guests that evening were not directors at all, they were middle-aged
friends of McCormack who liked to see tough, young thugs like Scott and
Lyle brought down a peg or two. More than that, they liked to see them
humiliated, as well. McCormack had invited along six of his closest
homosexual friends to pretend to be directors of the Soopersaver chain.
It was going to be a hilarious evening. The lads' work was never done.