Danny could barely contain his excitement as he was led into the studio by a production assistant, and told to take a seat on a high stool. In front of him were 36 lower stools, and each of them had a creamy cake or pie sat on them. His brow creased. What on earth was going to happen on this show?

Truth be told, Danny had no idea what the concept of this show was going to be. He'd just seen the ad on his university Facebook page - "Want to appear on TV? Want the chance to win big money?" - and he'd sent his application in right away.

Danny sat on the stool, his bare feet dangling as he excitedly waited for the show to start. And he didn't have long to wait. A producer counted down from 10, and suddenly the lights went up and the show's host, a handsome guy named Jon wearing a perfectly fitting suit, bounded on stage.

"Welcome everyone to a new episode of Crack the Code. This week we're in Leeds with our lucky contestant Danny, who's excitedly waiting his chance to win big on tonight's show. Danny, tonight you'll be playing three games, and we'll explain the rules of each as we go along. But first, let me introduce you to the six guys who'll be helping you out in the games - boys, come on in."

Music played and the lights flashed as six guys emerged from an arch at one end of the studio. Danny recognised them instantly. They were all members of the university's rugby team, and he'd watched them working out in the gym together on many occasions over the past few months. All of them had perfectly toned bodies and big, beefy thighs. What made Danny's jaw drop was what the six of them were wearing - or rather what they weren't. Each of them was clad solely in a different coloured jockstrap, perfectly framing their powerful asses, and clearly showing off the results of their hard work in the gym. They each positioned themselves in front of one of the pies in the front two of stools.

"Okay Danny, let's get going with the first game - ready to hear the rules?"

Danny nodded - he was slightly flustered and distracted at the sight of these six guys he'd spent weeks admiring at the gym - but he was ready to get on with the game.

"So, Danny, in front of you are six rows of six pies. Five of those pies in each row are made of cream, but one of them is made of ice cream. Your job is simply to guess which one it is. And for every one you get right, you'll collect £5,000 towards your bank.

Danny frowned, looking at the pies. They all looked the same...

"But don't worry, we've made it a little easier for you. On my signal, all six rugby players here will sit down on the pie behind them. It's up to you to watch how they react, and make your guesses from there. Understood?"

Danny's jaw gaped. Not only did he have the chance to win up to £30,000, six of the university's hunkiest, hottiest guys were going to sit down in pies and cakes right in front of him, and all he had to do was watch.

"If there aren't any more questions, I think we should get started. Oh, and team - remember that each time Danny guesses wrong, the guy who sat in the ice cream cake will bank the £5,000 instead!

"Okay, without further ado, ready... SIT!"

On Jon's command, all six rugby players sat down hard into the pie behind them. Instantly, cream splattered everywhere, shooting sideways and spraying over the guys to each side too. Danny grinned, barely containing his delight as he watched these six macho guys planting their asses into the creamy pies.

"Okay Danny, what's your guess?" asked Jon.

Shit. Danny had been so much enjoying the sight of these four guys sitting in the pies that he'd forgotten to watch their faces, to spot which one of them might have sat in something cold. Blindly he guessed: "Red?"

"Sorry Danny, that's wrong - which means £5,000 goes to our boy in blue. Okay guys, make your way to the next line of pies, and Danny, try and pay more attention this time - keep your eyes on the faces maybe, eh?"

Danny blushed, but realised Jon was right. The best way to tell which of these hunky rugby players had a jet of ice cream shooting up his hole would be to watch the reaction on their faces.

"Okay... SIT!"

Danny punched the air. He was right! As all six of the guys sat themselves down in the pies between them, the guy in the red jockstrap couldn't prevent himself from gasping. "Red," he shouted out.

"That's right Danny, £5,000 into your bank!"

As the game continued, Danny couldn't wipe the grin off his face as he watched the six rugby players in front of him repeatedly sitting themselves down in big, creamy pies. Every time they did, cream squirted everywhere, and Danny entertained himself imagining how these guys must feel, grinding their butts down in these pies, cream everywhere, shooting up their cracks and against their holes. He also noticed that none of them were wiping any of the cream away between pies.

Gareth was the captain of the rugby team and was wearing the green jockstrap - the team colours. When the producers had got in touch with him and told him that they had an opportunity for him and the rest of the team to have some fun and earn some cash, he too had jumped at the chance. Admittedly, he hadn't envisaged that would involve being almost naked on national TV, slamming his muscled butt down on creamy pies and cakes and sitting there in the sloppy mess they'd created - but it was all a good laugh and they'd already earned £5,000. And he'd been promised the second round would be even more fun.

As Jon shouted "SIT" at them again for the fourth time, Gareth sat down hard into the chocolatey, creamy pie on the stool behind him. It wasn't ice cold, but still he had to fight to control his expressions as he felt the cream in the pie shoot against his shaved hole. He hadn't anticipated how this would feel - and to his surprise it felt good.

At the same time, cream from the pie to his left, sat on hard by his buddy Evan, splattered against him, covering the side of his powerful chest and coating his thigh. They'd been instructed not to wipe any of the mess off their hunky bodies, so by now he was pretty much covered in cream and other mess that had shot at him from the pies being sat on by his teammates on both sides of him. He couldn't help wondering why that was - maybe it was just for the audience at home, who were probably delighting in seeing this masculine, competitive rugby team getting all messy.

By the time the guys had each sat on their fifth pie, Danny had banked £20,000. Watching these beefy rugby players gasp as cold ice cream shot against their holes had made this game easy for him - and very enjoyable. As they lined up in front of the sixth and final row of pies though, Danny noticed three of them whispering to each other and nodding.

"Okay guys, for the last time... SIT!"

* SPLAT * Danny savoured the sound of six muscled asses sitting hard in six pies. But as he looked at their faces, searching for the signs of discomfort as they sat there in melting ice cream, no fewer than three gasping faces looked back at him. Either three of the pies were made of ice cream, or...

"What's your guess, Danny?" Jon asked from beside him.

"Erm... yellow!" Danny guessed.

"Sorry Danny, that was wrong, it was the guy in green this time."

Danny looked up to see the six guys climbing out of the pies, and the guys in the yellow and green jockstraps high-fiving each other. He realised that they must have plotted to fake surprise together, so that he'd be fooled and guess wrong - and he had been fooled. And they'd banked his money.

"Don't worry Danny, you still banked £20,000 on that round. And after the break we'll move on to Round 2, where we'll see if you can double that bank!"

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

During the ad break, Danny was turned around on his stool so that he couldn't watch the preparations for the next game. While he waited, he smiled to himself. He could barely believe his luck. £20,000 in the bank already, which six of his gym crushes sat their powerful, muscled butts in pies right in front of him - what a fantastic day!

After a few minutes, the music played again, the lights came on and Jon bounded back to Danny's side.

"Welcome back everyone, to Part 2 of this episode of Crack the Code. Okay Danny, let's turn around and see what your next game has to offer."

With Jon's hand on his shoulder, Danny swivelled back round on his stool and immediately gasped at the view in front of him. All six rugby players stood in front of him about five metres away, facing away from him. Still clad in just their jockstraps, their asses were covered in cream from the pies from the previous round.

"Now Danny, as you'll have noticed, the guys didn't wipe any of the cream from their asses in the previous round. And that's because that cream, and those asses are an important part of Round 2. In this round, you'll have the opportunity to secure the money you won in Round 1, and potentially double it. You ready?"

"Definitely Jon!"

"All you have to do in this round is clean up each of those asses in front of you. You'll have an unknown amount of time for each one, and all you need to do is make sure that, by the end of the time, there's not a spot of cream left on the ass in front of you. You do that, you double the money you earned on that guy. Fail, and you lose the money. Understood?"

"Um..."

"Oh, and I forgot to mention - you'll be limited to using just your face and your tongue."

"What?..." Danny protested.

"Okay, ready... GO!"

Danny's jaw hung open as he stared, gobsmacked, at Jon. Had he heard right? They couldn't possibly expect him to clean cream off these rugby players' asses using just his face and his tongue, could they?

"Come on Danny, hurry up, the clock's ticking. Get that tongue to use!"

Turns out they could. Fuck it - he'd be earning £5,000 for each ass he cleaned up with his tongue. Maybe it was worth it. Then he realised - with it being double-or-quits on each ass, losing his money if he failed his task, it basically meant that every time he shoved his tongue and his face into those beefy rugby butts, he'd be earning £10,000. It was definitely worth it.

"Come on Danny, remember, if you don't do it, you'll lose the money you banked."

There was nothing for it. Danny dived off the stool, on to his knees, and shoved his face into the beefy ass in front of him. With his face he wiped across the left buttock and then the right, pushing as much cream off as he could, before attacking them with his tongue, licking at the butt cheeks. As quickly as he could he licked up the cream before sitting back and looking at what was left. There was still quite a bit of cream in the rugby player's crack. Danny took a deep breath and prepared to dive in - when a whistle blew.

"Sorry Danny, that's time up, I'm afraid." Danny felt Jon's hand on his shoulder. "Though I can tell you that this ass didn't belong to one of the rugby players who you guessed correctly in the first round, so you don't lose any of your bank, and remain on £20,000."

Danny, on his knees looking up at Jon, breathed a sigh of relief. At least he hadn't lost any of his money. He reached his hands up to wipe away some of the cream covering his face.

"Woah woah, Danny! Hold up!" Danny froze at the sound of Jon's voice. "You saw how in that last round, none of the guys cleaned any of the cream off them, right? There's no cleaning cream off yourself in this game."

With that, Jon produced a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, pulled Danny's hands behind his back, and cuffed them together before Danny could even realise what was happening.

"There, that'll stop you being tempted. And since there's still five more asses that need cleaning off, I think we'd better move on. You ready?"

Danny could only stare up at Jon and pull at the cuffs.

"Go!"

Hurriedly, Danny scuttled over on his knees to the muscled ass to his right, and dived right in, quickly wiping as much cream off with his face as he could. This time, he quickly cleared most of the cream off both cheeks before taking a deep breath and pushing his face right into the rugby player's crack. He pushed his face up and down, pushing as much cream away as possible, covering his face in the cream until the whistle blew. He withdrew and looked at the ass in front of him. He'd got rid of most of the cream - but there was still some remaining.

"Sorry Danny, that's a fail, I'm afraid. And that ass represented one of your wins from the first round, so that's £5,000 lost. Ready for the next one?"

Jon didn't wait for an answer. "Go!"

This time, Danny didn't waste any time. He dived right into the middle of the muscled butt, his face right into the rugby player's crack and up against his hole.

"Get that butt clean, Danny," he heard Jon saying above him. "Make sure you use that tongue, get it properly clean."

At that point, Danny realised he didn't have a choice. He'd need to use his tongue to get these asses properly clean - and if he didn't, he was going to go home with nothing. He stuck out his tongue, and ran it up and down the crack in front of him, tasting the sweet cream. As he pushed his face deeper into the ass in front of him, he became aware of a camera, right beside him, catching every lick and flick of his tongue. Satisfied he'd fully cleaned out the rugby player's crack, he ran his tongue over his buttocks until the whistle blew.

"Okay Danny, back up," Jon said. "Let's take a look."

The camera that had been filming Danny's ass-licking now zoomed in on the bubble butt in front of him - a clean and shiny bubble butt.

"I'd say that's a pass Danny! You double your money on that rugby player, which gives you a bonus £5,000 and takes your bank back to £20,000!"

Danny cheered as best he could through the layers of cream covering his face. Cream that, until recently, had been all over three hunky rugby players' butts. Butts that he'd admired from behind in the gym as they squatted weights he could only dream of.

He sighed and scuttled over to the next waiting ass, and on Jon's signal, dived right in. After just a few seconds, he felt Jon's hand on the back of his head.

"You're doing a great job, Danny... get that face right in there." Jon guided Danny's head gently around the firm, muscled ass in front of him. If Danny was honest, Jon probably applied a bit more pressure than was needed, squashing his face against the guy's butt cheeks and smearing cream all over him. But it worked, and when the whistle blew, Danny had successfully cleaned off - and cleaned out - another ass. But this one also didn't carry any prize, and he was frustrated to learn his bank stayed at £20,000.

Without giving Danny a chance to get his breath back, Jon quickly guided his head towards the next rugby player's butt. where Danny immediately started lapping at the cream as quickly as he could. A cameraman once again pointed a camera right into his face, as he licked up and down the muscled ass in front of him. As he licked around the guy's hole, licking at the cream there, he became aware of the rugby player squirming and breathing heavily.

"Hey dude, seems like you're enjoying this," he heard Jon say.

"Sure am!" he heard the rugby player respond. Unbeknownst to Danny, Jon had spotted the rugby player boning up in his jockstrap as Danny's tongue scrubbed and poked away at his horny hole. And Jon, being the experienced presenter he was, knew how to get the most entertaining show for the viewers.

He tightened his hold on the back of Danny's head. "Hey Danny, make sure you get right in there, you need to get out any cream that got in this guy's hole too, don't forget."

He pushed Danny's face deep into the rugby player's ass, getting it covered in cream. Unable to wipe his face, Danny re-doubled his efforts, licking at the rugby player's ass and pushing his tongue against the guy's horny butthole.

He flicked it and out, feeling the hole tight around his tongue but knowing what he needed to do to win the money. Above him, Jon grinned as a second cameraman moved in to capture Danny's rim-job.

Danny suddenly became aware of the two cameras pushed into his face, and what they were capturing the viewers back home - him, on his knees, hands cuffed behind his back, face messy with cream from who know how many pies, eating out the ass of one of the university's star rugby players.

Convinced that the rugby player's butthole was finally free of all the cream from those sloppy pies, Danny made to move on to the guy's buttocks - but Jon held his head firmly. Unbeknownst to Danny, Jon had caught the eye of the producer who controlled the whistle - and the cameras. They silently agreed across the room that they could stretch this out a bit. No need to end this when everyone was having so much fun. A third camera zoomed in on the rugby player's bulging jockstrap, testament to how much he was enjoying this, while another was sure to capture Danny's struggled as he squirmed to get free to finish his messy task, his nose and mouth squashed between the guy's powerful, muscled butt cheeks.

And as he continued to become intimately acquainted with it, he was sure which of the team this powerful, beefy ass belonged to. He could feel how strong its muscles were, squeezing against his face as he was pushed helplessly deep into the guy's crack - it was a real bubble butt, one that he was sure he'd watched squatting heavy weights in tight, short shorts in the university's gym.

Suddenly the whistle blew, and Jon released Danny's head. Pulling back, Danny saw that, while the rugby player's crack and hole were totally clean, shining with Danny's saliva, his muscled buttocks were still covered in cream.

"Sorry Danny, that's another £5,000 lost from your bank, I'm afraid," said Jon.

"That wasn't fair, I didn't have a chance to finish!" he shouted.

"Oops, sorry. I was just trying to help," responded Jon. Jon of course knew exactly what he was doing. He didn't care about Danny having a fair chance - his priority was ensuring an entertaining show for the viewers. And Danny's face, buried deep in the asses of six hunky rugby players, was definitely giving them an entertaining show. If anything, seeing Danny humiliated and growing increasingly frustrated as he lost the money he'd earned while getting messier and messier, was perhaps the best show of all.

Unless... Jon glanced across to the sixth and final rugby player, the team captain, Gareth. Not realising the cameras were on him, the hunky jock was groping his hard cock through the messy jockstrap he was wearing. He'd clearly been enjoying his time on the show - and Jon had an idea for how it could be about to get even more entertaining.

From his position on the floor, Danny couldn't see the rugby player's growing bulge or how excited he was to get his sloppy, creamy ass cleaned up by Danny's tongue.

The whistle blew. Danny scooted forward just as the rugby player pushed his ass back, and Danny's face smashed into it, covering him with even more cream that he couldn't wipe off. He got to work, pushing his face across the rugby player's muscled buttocks, trying to push as much cream off as he could while simultaneously covering his face in more sloppy mess that he couldn't wipe off. The rugby player wasn't making things easy for him either, moving his butt around, smushing cream all across Danny's face.

As Danny moved in to lick at the cream filling the crack in front of him, the rugby player continued to wiggle his butt, this time up and down, rubbing his butthole over Danny's tongue over and over again. He took the opportunity to push his tongue deep into the guy's hole, eliciting a moan and a gasp from above him as he cleaned out the cream.

"Make sure that hole is properly clean, Danny," Jon said above him, placing a hand on the back of his head and pushing his face deeper into the rugby player's ass. Aware of the cameras surrounding him, capturing every moment of his sublime humiliation, Danny couldn't do anything else other than lick at the horny hole that was clenching around his tongue.

These were guys he'd admired in the gym for months. These were asses he'd cunningly positioned himself behind as they did their squats, muscled straining, pushing at their tight shorts that left nothing to the imagination. And now those asses he'd worshipped from afar were being offered up to him.

He was eating out half the rugby team.

On national TV.

Covered in sloppy pies.

There was no cream left around the rugby player's hole anymore, but Jon didn't care about that. Danny tried to pull away, but Jon held his head firm, knowing that the show Gareth and Danny were putting on for the cameras, and Danny's humiliation, would send ratings through the roof.

Now, moaning and breathing heavily, the hunky rugby captain was pushing his ass back into Danny's face, which, held firm by Jon's strong hand, couldn't pull back. Danny licked helplessly at the rugby player's horny hole - and with his face covered by the beefy ass, there wasn't much else he could do, he had no idea what else was going on above him.

That meant he had no idea how much the rugby player was enjoying it. As Gareth pushed his horny ass back into Danny's face, he was now pulling at his hard cock through his jockstrap. Danny also had no idea of how Jon and the producer were silently co-ordinating the shots to perfectly capture his humiliation. Two cameras trained close in on his face, buried in the rugby player's ass, capturing every flick of his tongue into the guy's tight hole. One focusing on the rugby player's hard cock, pulsing away in his jockstrap. Another close-up on the rugby player's face, showing just how much he was enjoying it. And one final camera with a long shot, capturing the entire scene - Danny, covered in cream, hands helplessly handcuffed behind his back, eating out a beefy rugby player's butt, and the rugby player jacking his horny cock above him.

"Oh, fuck fuck, yes! Fuck dude, your tongue is hot!" Hearing that, Danny suddenly realised what was going on. This rugby player was completely turned on by this and was about to spunk his creamy load - with the help of Danny's tongue. And it was all being captured on camera.

"Oh fuck man, I'm fucking close." The rugby player's breathing was getting ragged. He pulled the jockstrap down under his balls, the cameras immediately zooming in on his exposed cock, which pulsed as he jacked it faster and faster. With his spare hand, he reached behind himself and, moving Jon's hand aside, pushed Danny's face deep into his ass.

As Danny helplessly pushed his tongue deep into the horny, clenching asshole, the rugby player reared back, forcing Danny's tongue even deeper. With that, the rugby player reached the peak of his ecstasy, jacking his cock furiously, and let out a deep, animalistic moan as he shot his big, creamy load on the floor in front of him.

Once his cock finally finished spurting cum, the rugby player released Danny's head, and Danny collapsed back on to the floor, defeated. He looked up, right into the cameras to each side of him that had captured every moment of his exquisite humiliation, and then glanced over at Jon. Jon was grinning across the room at the producer - they'd definitely got their shot.

The whistle blew. Danny looked at the ass in front of him - still smeared in cream from the pies. The rugby player clearly didn't care, and he supposed Jon wouldn't either. But he was out of luck. Obviously trying not to laugh, Jon informed him that he'd failed this final challenge, and had lost the associated money, another £5,000.

"That does mean though, Danny, that you've secured a total of £10,000. You take that amount into the final round, where you'll battle to take that money home."

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

As the cameras cut for the break, Danny stayed where he was, kneeling on the floor, hands cuffed behind him. He felt utterly defeated - he'd just eaten out a rugby player's hole while the guy jacked off, on national TV, and all he'd achieved was to lose half the money he'd earned. And with his hands cuffed behind his back, he couldn't even wipe off the sloppy pie mess that was the evidence of his humiliation.

Jon was over with the rugby players, and was high-fiving one of them - Danny guessed he was probably the one who'd cum with Danny's tongue deep in his ass. At least two of the others were clearly boned up in their jockstraps.

A production assistant came and got Danny, helped him to his feet and to a stool on the other side of the studio. This stool was inside three plexiglas walls, with a lower door that closed in front of him.

"Hey, dude, could you please uncuff me?" he asked.

"Sorry mate, I don't have the key." The production assistant was trying to look suitably apologetic, but it was clear he couldn't keep a straight face, and glancing down, Danny could see that he too was totally boned up. It seemed like everyone around him was fully enjoying his humiliation.

"Okay everyone, we're back live in 5, 4, 3..."

"Welcome back everyone to Crack the Code, where before the break, Danny here secured himself a bank of £10,000. Now, all he has to do to take that money home with him is to crack the code.

"Danny, when the whistle goes, you will have one minute to crack the code. In front of you are standing the six rugby players whose asses you so diligently cleaned up with that tongue of yours in the last round. Some more squeakily clean than others, it has to be said."

The rugby players sniggered at this. They were now lined up in front of Danny, still dressed in their jockstraps, on revolving podiums. The reason for this would soon become clear.

"All you have to do, Danny, to crack the code, is to tell me the order in which you ate out those six asses. They're lined up in a random order now, so it's up to you to try and remember, as they turn, which ass was which."

Danny gasped. Apart from the guy who'd been high-fiving Jon, and who was dressed in the green jock and was presumably the guy who'd cum with Danny's tongue in his ass, he had no idea. How was he supposed to know? He'd been on his knees behind them, looking up at their asses. He had no idea which order he'd licked each of them clean.

"You crack the code within the minute, we unlock those cuffs and you walk away with £10,000. Fail, and you lose all the money, and that tank above you will drop its load."

Danny looked up. What he hadn't noticed before was a huge tank filled with brightly coloured gunge, positioned precariously above his head, ready to drop.

"Danny, you understand the rules?" Danny opened his mouth but Jon once again gave him no opportunity to object. "Good. GO!"

Fuck... Danny had no idea. "Red, yellow, blue, orange, purple, green," he guessed helplessly.

"Wrong."

"Yellow, blue, green, purple, orange, green."

"Wrong."

Fuck, fuck, he had to think. He'd observed these asses in the gym on many occasions, and in some ways was incredibly familiar with them. Though not as familiar as he'd become tonight.

"Yellow, orange, blue, green, purple, green."

"Wrong. Come on Danny, you should be good at this, you've had quite the close-up view of all six of these butts tonight."

"Yellow, purple, blue, orange, red, green."

"Wrong again Danny. And only 20 seconds left..."

Fuck. Fuck. He hadn't come all this way to lose now. If he was going to have humiliated himself by eating out the buttholes of half a rugby team on national TV, he at least had to not go home empty handed.

"Yellow, orange, red, blue, purple, green."

"Wrong, but I can tell you that four of those are right, Danny. And you have time for one more guess."

He was close. He just had to think. As the guys revolved in front of him, Danny studied the asses carefully. Suddenly Danny remembered - he was sure the penultimate guy had been the one with the biggest and beefiest bubble-butt - and that meant he must be blue. And with four right, that must mean...

Quickly Danny thought, panicked as the clock ticked down and the rugby players chanted "five, four, three..."

"It's Yellow, orange, red, purple, blue, green," he shouted victoriously just as the whistle blew.

"Danny, that's right!" shouted Jon. "But you were just out of time. And you know what that means..."

Danny could only watch helplessly as the £10,000 on the screen in front of him disappeared, shrinking down until the display showed £0. Fuck. He'd lost all his money. All that humiliation had been for nothing.

Suddenly, the lights trained on him began to flash different colours, and a siren sounded. Danny looked around, wondering what was happening - and then got his answer.

The tank above him dropped its load. Danny was forced to sit there as the brightly coloured gunge poured over him, landing on his head and rolling down his face, covering his shirt so that it was plastered to his body and pooling in the lap of his shorts.

Hands still cuffed behind his back, he was forced to sit there and take it, unable to wipe the gunge off. It poured down on him, the cascade of gunge seeming never-ending. All around the tank he could hear the rugby players cheering, whooping and laughing at his final humiliation.

Finally, the stream of slime slowed to a halt, though the tank continued to drip on Danny as he sat there while Jon spoke his final lines to the camera, and signed-off with the audience. Danny couldn't do anything but sit there dejected, clothes covered in gunge and plastered to his body, hair trashed and cream mixed with slime all over him. All he could think about was the cameras that had been pushed into his face as he licked out the asses of the rugby team who were still standing around him laughing, and that it had all been for nothing. He'd eaten out six guys on national TV, and all he'd earned for it was a massive gunging.

Once Jon had finished and the director called cut, the same production assistant came over and let him out of the tank. He still didn't have the key though, so Danny just had to stand dripping in the middle of the studio while Jon and the rugby player in the green jockstrap - the one who'd shot his load while Danny ate out his ass - were deep in conversation on the other side of the room. Eventually, they both came over to him.

"Thanks for being a good sport today, Danny," Jon said to him. "Sorry you didn't win anything, that was really bad luck.

"Anyway, you'll need to clean off, and so do the rugby team. There's a couple of showers in the locker room next door, so the seven of you can get cleaned up there together."

Danny's jaw dropped. He'd have to shower along with these six guys who'd just assisted in his abject humiliation on national TV?

"Oh, and Gareth here has the key to your handcuffs. I'm sure he and the other guys will unlock you - at some point."

Danny looked over at Gareth who was looking over at the rest of the team with a shit-eating grin on his handsome face. Something told him those handcuffs weren't coming off any time soon.

"Okay Danny, let's go," Gareth said. "You got some of us cleaner than others, so I think it's about time you finish the job, don't you?"

Danny gaped at him, speechless. What were they going to do with him in those showers? At least there wouldn't be any cameras in there. He looked over at the rest of the team, and saw that at least two or three of them were sporting huge boners that were barely contained by their messy jockstraps. They clearly wanted some of what their captain had got.

Fuck.

"Okay Danny, let's go." Gareth waved the key in front of him, then slipped it down into the pouch of his jockstrap. "Thanks Jon."

"You're welcome Gareth. Have fun guys."

The rugby players left the room, laughing and high-fiving each other. Danny watched them go, several of their beefy asses still covered in the remnants of the sloppy pies they'd sat in, and then was left with nothing to do but to trail after them, dripping gunge as he went.

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


I hope you enjoyed reading Danny's story - please do feel free to drop me a message and let me know what you thought, I'm still quite new to this so I appreciate any feedback. And if you have any ideas for the next gameshow that can leave my next story-star messy and humiliated, let me know!