I'd been looking forward to this holiday for a while. A group of friends and I had booked a villa in a resort in southern Europe known for being a gay hotspot, and it promised two weeks of sun, sea, and hopefully sex.

My name's Callum and I'm 25. I'm a regular gym-goer and I play a bit of football in my spare time too, so I consider myself pretty fit. I'd been enjoying the first couple of days by the pool, hanging out in nothing but speedos most of the time. I know some guys consider them too revealing, but I've worked hard on my body, and I like to show it off - and to be honest, I quite enjoy the looks I get from other guys, checking out the size of my bulge in the trunks too.

It was the second night of our trip and my mates and I had found ourselves at a bar that promised cheap drinks and entertainment - just what we were looking for. When we got there, we found the bar staff were going round asking for people to sign up to take part in whatever was going to happen on stage later. I just laughed and said 'no thanks'.

A hour or so later, the owner of the bar got up on stage. He looked to be in his mid-30s and was pretty fit, wearing a tight-fitting t-shirt and a pair of shorts that barely came a third of the way down his meaty thighs.

To cheers, he announced that the entertainment was about to begin and he'd be announcing the names of the guys who'd been selected to participate from those who'd signed up to take part.

"First we have Liam!" A tall, dark-haired guy got up from his seat and bounded on to the stage. He looked to be about 23 and had a broad, cocky smile. He flexed his muscles for the crowd as they cheered. Under questioning by the host, he introduced himself and told everyone he was a rugby player.

"Next up is Pierre!" A guy to my immediate left got up, laughing. He made his way a little more hesitantly to the stage. As soon as he spoke to the host, my initial impression was confirmed - he was French, which fit with his classic good looks.

"Our third contestant is Karl." Karl also bounded up to the stage, clearly excited to take part in the entertainment. He was a cute twink with blond hair, and his tight shirt clung to his chest and showed off his toned arms.

"And finally, we have Callum!" I looked around, assuming there must be another Callum, but then I saw my mates laughing. They'd clearly signed me up when I wasn't looking. Figuring I had no other choice, I gamely got to my feet and made my way to the stage to join the others.

"Here's how this is going to work. The four of you will be playing some games and, as our regular visitors will know, the games here tend to get a little messy."

My jaw dropped and I glared at my friends, who just laughed. Did they know?

"And since they tend to get a bit messy, we've got outfits ready for you - don't worry, we're not going to ruin your own clothes. Head backstage and get changed and ready, and we'll see you back on stage in ten minutes."

A bar worker hustled the four of us backstage into a small dressing room. The owner followed us in and introduced himself as Jon. He handed us each a small bundle, which was made up of a tanktop and a pair of shorts each, and explained that the colours we had would determine the teams we'd be playing on.

"Get changed and put your own clothes in the bags and leave them in here. As I said, things tend to get messy and so there's a distinct chance that anything you're wearing's going to get ruined. So unless you've brought spare underwear with you, I strongly recommend you leave yours here with the rest of your clothes and go commando in the shorts I've given you."

There were a few chuckles at this, but no objections. I unfurled my bundle and found a red tanktop and pair of shorts and, glancing up, saw that Karl was holding the same. I smiled at him - I'd been hoping we'd be paired up.

We all quickly got changed. The tanktops closely cut, showing off everyone's muscles nicely, while the shorts were lycra. Pulling them up, I realised that as well as being really tight they were quite thin, the type usually worn as a base-layer, and didn't leave much to the imagination. I hesitated briefly, considering retrieving my briefs from my bag to wear under them, but Jon was already leading the others back out on stage. I pulled them on quickly and headed out behind Liam, taking the opportunity to check out the rugby player's bubble butt in the thin shorts as he walked ahead of me.

The four of us stood facing the crowd as Jon explained we'd be playing three games. The pair with the most points after all three games would win a prize, a voucher for dinner at one of the local steakhouses.

"And as for the losing pair, well, regular visitors will be familiar with our consolation prize," he smirked, and the crowd laughed.

I glanced around, puzzled. I had no idea what the consolation prize would be, though from the look on Jon's face and the laughs from the audience, I guessed it would be nothing good.

"Alright boys, time for your first game. It's a pretty simple one that'll test your physical ability, and since you all look in good shape, it should be no problem for any of you.

"Each pair has four balloons - all you have to do is pop them. First to pop all four balloons wins the game and scores a point.

"A couple of rules to make it a little trickier for you though. Firstly, you've got to pop every balloon between your bodies, and secondly, no hands!

"GO!"

On Jon's command, two of the bar workers each emptied a bucket on to the floor of the stage, which I now realised was slightly padded and covered in the kind of material you'd find in a wrestling ring or on gym mats. Out of each of the buckets came four balloons and a fair bit of gunge, in which the balloons had been sitting, rendering them slimy and slippery. It was also quite obvious the balloons were filled with something - and it didn't take a genius to guess it was probably going to be something messy, that would splatter over us when they burst.

All four of us dove to the floor and scrambled after the balloons which were already bouncing across the playing area. I got one between my legs and pulled it over towards Karl and me. The two of us slipped around, bodies sliding over one another as we tried to squash the slippery balloon. Suddenly I happened upon an idea and, sliding the balloon between Karl's legs as he sat on the floor, used his crotch to brace it and sat on it, squashing it down on to the floor. It worked! The balloon shattered and sprayed my butt with gunge.

"No no, I saw that," I heard Jon saying above us. "I'll let that one count, but it's not in the spirit of the game and I don't want to see any more like that - all the balloons must be burst between your bodies. And as a little punishment"

Jon grabbed a jug full of gunge and poured it over the pair of us as we sat on the floor, grabbing around for the next balloon. It wasn't a lot of gunge but it slid down my face and made everything a bit more slippery and difficult.

Next to us, Pierre had Liam lying on his front of the ground. He'd placed a balloon basically on the rugby player's butt and then got down and thrust against him, squeezing the balloon, which then popped and Pierre's bulge pushed up against Liam's ass.

Meanwhile Karl had grabbed a second balloon for us. He was still sat on the floor and this time he placed it between us and pulled me close, the balloon between his chest and my back. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against him. The balloon popped and I felt gunge spray over my back and I pressed against Karl, enjoying the feel of his chest against my back.

Two more to go! I scrambled across the stage on my knees, grabbing for another blue balloon. As I picked it up, I could feel it was bigger and full of more gunge than either of the previous two. I lay on my back and pulled Karl towards me, bracing the balloon between us.

We lay face-to-face, the balloon between us. Suddenly we felt it burst, gunge showered between us and we were crotch-to-crotch, chest-to-chest and face-to-face.

One more to go and we were 3-1 up. Pierre and Liam were struggling more than us and as I grabbed for our last balloon, I saw Liam finally give up trying to hold the slippery balloon between his and Pierre's bodies. In frustration, he positioned it on Pierre's butt and bit down on the balloon, popping it with his teeth, getting a face full of gunge and, seconds later, a face full of Pierre's gungy butt.

Now Liam and Pierre had cracked it, I knew Karl and I needed to be quick. We got the balloon between us again, with Karl on the ground this time and me on top. We heard a third balloon pop to our left and, knowing our opponents were catching up, we concentrated on not letting it slip, and squeezed our bodies together. Finally it popped, showering us both with bright green gunge. Karl and I fell into each other and, inches away, I grinned at Karl and tightened my grip on his butt, giving it a good squeeze and pulling him against my crotch.

Before I knew it though, Jon was announcing the end of the game and pulling us to our feet. As I stood up, I looked over at the others. We all had gunge coating our tanktops, plastering them against their bodies. I noticed that Liam and Pierre had clearly swapped positions for that third balloon - both of them had gungy butts and faces dripping in slime.

"Okay, the winners there were Karl and Callum," said Jon. "As a forfeit, Pierre, Liam, you can lose those tanktops for the next game."

I watched keenly, as did the crowd, as these two hunks slipped their messy shirts off and dropped them at the side of the stage. Pierre's slim but toned body was revealed along with Liam's strong, bulging pecs and big, pointy nipples, slick with mess that had soaked through his shirt. Also very much catching my eye was the slimy rugby player's clearly enormous cock, in the tight, slightly too-small lycra shorts. The fat head of it was clearly outlined in the thin material, as were his heavy balls. At an amused cough from Jon, I realised I'd been caught staring.

"Alright boys, let's get to the next game. The last one tested physical ability, this one tests your knowledge. It's a simple quiz. I'll ask five questions, on the buzzer, and the first team to score three points wins.

We sat down on four low stools that had been brought out and put on the stage, two of us on each side of Jon. From where we were sitting, we couldn't see the other team. The stagehands brought out a table full of pies. They handed one to me, and one to Pierre.

"Oh, I forgot to say, boys - those are your buzzers. You think you know the answer, you slam that pie into your teammate's face. First hit gets to answer."

And before we had chance to fully take that in, Jon was on to the first question: "What is the capital of France?"

Easy, I thought, smashing the pie in my hand right into Karl's face.

"Pierre, you were first," announced Jon. It was at this point I realised the cleverness of our positioning on the stage with Jon between us - we couldn't see the other team, so we had no choice but to pie each other and hope we were first. So Karl had just got pied for no reason.

"Paris!" crowed Pierre.

"Correct!" shouted Jon. "One point to Liam and Pierre."

I smiled wryly at Karl, who'd just got pied for no reason, in effect, and was wiping cream and custard from his face, before having another pie shoved into his hands. Clearly it was my turn to be the target.

"Question 2: what is the capital of Spain?"

Instantly, Karl's pie landed in my face and splattered on impact, covering me with cream splashing down my back and over my shoulders. Rather unnecessarily, I thought, he took the opportunity to rub it in and push it up and over my head, covering my hair in mess too. But we were too slow again. I heard Liam giving the correct answer and all of a sudden we were down 2-0 - we could lose on the next question already.

Before the next question though, Jon explained a twist - from now on, it wouldn't be the person pieing who'd answer, it'd be the one getting pied. "So you've got to anticipate if your teammate is going to know the answer".

"We gotta get this one," Karl hissed at me. "We gotta get in there first, the questions are easy. Whatever the question is, just pie me, dude."

I grinned. I didn't need telling twice.

Jon posed the third question, asking us the capital of Italy. He'd barely finished saying the word 'Italy' when I smashed the pie into Karl's face. To pay him back for the last hit, I made sure to smush it right into his face and get his blond hair all covered in mess too. Jon called us as hitting the buzzer first, Karl shouted out the right answer, and we were back in the game, 2-1.

Our tactics had clearly worked and I told Karl to do the same, smiling to myself as he had a pie thrust into his hands before he had chance to wipe the mess from his cute, dimpled face. I reached over and wiped a bit of cream from his cheek and a smile passed between us.

"Alright, question 4, and remember Karl and Callum need to get this one right to stay in the game. What is the capital of P-"

I sputtered as the pie hit my face sooner than I was expecting, Karl having taken my instruction pretty literally and eager to get in there before Liam and Pierre. This time he let go of the base and it stuck to my face for a few seconds before dropping into my lap, leaving creamy slop dripping from my nose and my chin.

"Erm, could you repeat the question, please, Jon?" I asked, the end of the final word having been cut off by the sound of a pie slamming into me.

"Nope," Jon replied, grinning. "Quick, what's your answer?"

"Erm, erm" Surely Jon had been going to say Portugal. Every other question had been about holiday destinations, so this one probably was too. "Lisbon?" I shouted hesitantly.

At the sound of the crowd's laughs, I immediately knew I was wrong. Jon handed the question to the opposing team and Liam gave the correct answer of Warsaw, and that was the end of the game. We'd lost and I hung my head in embarrassment and frustration.

"Shame to let these go to waste, wouldn't it?" said Jon, picking up the two remaining pies on the table. He turned and, without warning, slammed one into my face and the second into Karl's. The crowd cheered and laughed as the two of the us sputtered, wiped cream out of our eyes and looked at one another, smiling wryly.

"Okay, in a moment we'll be ready for our final game," said Jon, "but in the meantime, Karl, Callum, it's only fair - you lost that game so the two of you can lose your shirts too."

We both shucked off our shirts, and the crowd drank in the sight of four toned, handsome, slimy guys, standing shirtless on stage in just thin, lycra shorts.

"The final game will be our decider. Who'll be victorious, and win dinner for two, and who'll just be winning our consolation prize?

"In this game, Karl and Pierre, you'll be on your knees with a bucket strapped to your head. You'll have gunge poured into that bucket and then you'll need to shuffle across the stage, as quickly as you can on your knees, and empty the gunge into the bucket held by your teammate. Most gunge transported in two minutes will win.

"At least, that was our plan. Unfortunately, in getting ready today we weren't able to find the buckets, but we still wanted to play the game so we've made a few adjustments.

"I'm afraid all we could find were two colanders - so the two of you on your knees, you'll have to use them. And since that's all we could find, you'll have to tip the gunge down the front of your partner's shorts. Most gunge in shorts at the end of the game wins."

Liam and I were hustled to one end of the stage, standing next to each other. I took the opportunity to look over the hunky rugby player's body, which was now glistening with the slimy mess we'd been subjected to in the first two games. The gunge from the first game had plastered the front of his lycra shorts against his crotch, clearly outlining his fat dick and low hanging balls.

The rugby player coughed and I looked up to the look of amusement on his face - caught again!

"Hey, you think it's really an accident they couldn't find those buckets earlier?" he whispered to me. "I bet Jon intended this all along to get us even messier."

I nodded. He was probably right - us getting messy was clearly what the audience wanted to see, after all.

"I'm not sure which position I'd rather be in," Liam continued. "Like, I think I'm glad I'm not over there with the colander on my head. Those guys are going to have gunge running down their faces right from the start. But I'm also not sure what it's going to feel like having it down my shorts either. Starting to wish I'd kept my briefs on."

"Well, I guess we're about to find out," I said, as Jon pushed Karl and Pierre to their knees, colanders fixed to their heads with a strap under the chin, and blew his whistle.

Two stagehands filled Karl and Pierre's colanders with gunge, which, unsurprisingly started to immediately flow through the holes and down their faces.

As Karl shuffled quickly towards me on his knees, I reflected silently on how sexy the twink's cute face looked with the green slime dripping down it. He reached me and quickly I pulled out the front of my shorts, allowing him to tip his head forward and empty what was left of the gunge in the colander into them.

I gasped, feeling the warm, slimy gunge coat my cock and my balls. I hadn't been sure what to expect, but it wasn't this - it felt nice. Before I knew what was happening, Karl had done another lap and was back in front of me, the colander half full of gunge and the rest down his face, and again he emptied its contents down the front of my shorts.

The slippery, slimy, warm gunge slid around in my shorts, the tight legs giving it nowhere to go except for pooling around my cock. I hadn't expected it to feel so good and, in horror, I realised I was enjoying it too much - my cock was getting hard.

Karl was surprisingly good at this game, and seemingly undistracted by the slimy, green gunge running down his face and now covering his chest too. It wasn't long before he dumped another load of slime into my shorts. By now, my cock was fully hard. I looked down and saw it poking out of the pool of gunge that had formed in my shorts. Karl tipped another load in and I gasped at the sensations that came from gunge pouring directly on to the head of my cock and running down the shaft.

At a cheer from the crowd I was pulled out of my trance. I suddenly realised I was rock hard with shorts full of gunge, in front of nearly 100 baying gay men.

With all the gunge being dropped on the stage, things were getting slippery, and on his next lap, Karl slipped, his knees going out from under him as he fell to the stage, all the gunge falling out of his colander. As he picked himself up and wiped slime from his eyes, I fruitlessly willed my cock to go down.

Finally the whistle blew, signalling the end of the game. Karl and Pierre clambered carefully to their feet, being careful not to fall on the slippery stage. Both were pretty much completely covered in gunge that had slid from the colanders and dripped down their faces and their torsos. By contrast, Liam and I were less messy, but both had bulging shorts full of slime.

"Okay, let's see who'll be the winners," Jon said, producing two transparent buckets and placing them in front of Liam and me. We looked at each other - it wasn't lost on us that these were the buckets they'd allegedly lost that meant we both had a crotch full of gunge. Clearly we were right and this had been carefully engineered by Jon.

We both leant forward and emptied as much as we could of the gunge from our shorts into the buckets. Liam was pretty brazen, pulling the front of his shorts right down and giving the crowd a show of his thick cock, covered in gunge, as he emptied as much as he could out. In contrast, I was more careful, not wanting to let the audience see my erection. But I hadn't reckoned on Jon's 'help'.

"Let's make sure we get all that gunge out of there," he said, coming over to me. He grinned and pressed on the front of my shorts, forcing the remaining gunge out of the leg holes so it ran down my thighs into the bucket. I gasped as he took the opportunity for a gratuitous grope of my hard, horny cock.

"Glad you had fun, Callum," he whispered in my ear, then gave me a grin and a final grope before stepping away.

I looked down and my worst fears were confirmed. The combination of the slime and Jon's actions meant that the thin shorts were plastered against me, and my hard, throbbing cock was clearly on display to the entire crowd. I closed my eyes and tried to control myself, begging my cock to soften and go down, but it was no use. If anything, the eyes of almost a hundred gay men on my crotch, drinking in my embarrassment, was just turning me on even more.

"Right, let's see who's won," came Jon's voice, snapping me back to reality. I'd almost forgotten we were playing a game.

"I think it's pretty clear. Both teams did pretty well, but the team with the most gunge in their bucket is Pierre and Liam!"

Pierre and Liam cheered and hugged, pressing their slimy bodies together - and looking across, I saw that I might not be the only one turned on by the gunge. Liam's cock, pressing into Pierre's hip, was clearly at least semi-hard in his gungy shorts, if not more.

"You boys win dinner for two, but Karl, Callum, it's time for your consolation prize. And it's a trip! A trip to the gunge tank that is!"

Behind us, a perspex tank was rolled on to the stage. It had a tall stool inside and above it was suspended a full tank of thick, green gunge. Karl sat on the stool under the tank, and I climbed on his lap, facing him, wrapping my thighs around his waist.

"Okay everyone, let's count down - five, four, three, two, one" and with that, Jon pulled the lever and the gunge dropped. Where we were positioned, we were right underneath it and the stream hit us both and quickly covered us in green slime.

As the gunge poured down, Karl gave me a wicked smile and reached down, pulling the front of my shorts open so gunge slid inside. I moaned as more warm gunge engulfed my cock and I bent down and kissed him hard on the lips.

Finally the gunge slowed and the flow came to a stop. I climbed down from Karl's lap and stepped out of the tank, my teammate following me. I dripped gunge on the stage, standing in front of the audience, and Karl did too.

"Thank you both for playing our games and for being such good sports. You can go take a shower backstage and get changed - and I hope to see you back here again."


*****************

Hours later, I was lying in my bed, my cock still hard and throbbing. I was about to start doing something about it, when my phone buzzed on the bedside table. Picking it up, I saw it was a message from Jon. I had no idea how he'd got hold of my number, but clearly someone had passed it on to him.

"Hey dude, sorry you didn't win tonight, but I'm inviting you back for a second attempt at our games. This time though, it's our late-night edition. Things tend to get even messier and a bit naughty. Judging by how much you seemed to enjoy it last time, I think you'll have a lot of fun. You in?"

I was torn. He was right, I had enjoyed it, as the tent in my shorts had made quite clear. On the other hand, on stage, almost naked, in front of almost a hundred gay men, was not really the ideal setting to have discovered my fetish for gunge and mess.

I put my phone down. I figured I'd just ignore his message. But then I felt it buzz again, so I picked it up and read the new message.

"I've already texted Liam. He's in."

My mind went immediately to the rugby player's semi-hard cock bulging through his gungy shorts and his sexy bubble butt. I tapped on the message to send a reply.

"I'm in."