'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

with sweat.

'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

his clippers.

'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

the dot.

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

of shit.

'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.



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