"And have you reached a verdict?" The judge asked, swivelling his chair to address the jury foreman, stood at the end of the row of jurors

"Yes your honour" the foreman replied. He brushed his thinning hair back into place then adjusted his tie, uncomfortable being the centre of attention.

The clerk stood and walked to the side of the court nearest the jury, a file with the charge sheet pinned to the top. Behind him Joe stood up, the front of his suit rising and falling as he took deep breaths "on count one, of voyeurism, how does the jury find the defendant?"

A hush fell on the court, a clock ticked near the rear of the court. Ball point pens were clicked in readiness, the click clack the loading bullets into chambers.

Joe looked at Sam

Sam looked back at Joe. A minute wink of an eye passing on support.

The prosecution and defence lawyers looked at the Forman, both barristers sending their judgments out into the ether imploring the foreman to repeat their silently chanted mantra. Guilty , guilty. Not guilty, not guilty

The judge looked at Joe, the gaze steady, neutral

Time seem to stop, the world seeming to both go grey and into slow motion

The foreman broke the spell with a single word, a dagger thrust into Joe. Speared by the vibrated air as the sound carried from the foreman's lips and pierced him "Guilty"

A collective gasp was squashed by the judges gavel.


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

Colehampton Evening news, that night.

The ongoing trial, of Joe Thomas, a Colehampton rugby player concluded today with unanimous guilty verdicts. Thomas, 27 was found guilty of voyeurism, Coercion and sexual assault. Judge Thybold, residing, called the trial saddening and all too indicative of how celebrity will attempt to usurp the rule of law. He went on to say that, this case proves that no man is above the law and justice will and has been served.

On sentencing Thybold took the unprecedented step of ordering Thomas to be Peer punished immediately in the court room.


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

Gary McNeil, owner of Messy Mayhem productions.

"Dont come inside him, come over his face" Joe had ordered and I can remember ordering cameraman one to manoeuvre himself around to get a good look as the two actors disentangled themselves from their sexual position they were in.

The bit where the guy playing Freddie, Stephan, was struck with cramp was cut out and after a couple of minutes we went again. Euan, the guy playing Brett massaged himself back into erection and I ordered the set quiet as we went for the money shot, or in this case, shots as Joe was scheduled to also orgasm for this section as well.

It was as if Joe was a natural, as soon as Euan had unloaded onto the Freddie characters face, I had almost shouted for a take in readiness of rolling again when Joe was ready. The words hadn't left my mouth when I saw the mountainous shape of Joe walk him from Camera left, his erection pointing the way as he joined the two actors and came over Stephans face, streak after streak of white sperm across his face, joining Euan's and the copious amount of custard already in place. Joe squeezed the tip of his penis, the last drops landing on Stephan's cheek.

Of course all of the editing and post production got rid of all the false starts and delays. The team, crowding around in the boardroom of the rugby club were seeing the finished article.

"Joseph, my man!" Mark laughed from his seat, rising to clinch a high five with Joe, across the desk, "Quality load there, lad, I'm impressed!"

Joe laughed, the austere serious character from the production replaced by the real player, "Cheers fella, glad you approve, I was quite impressed myself, musta been real turned on"

Kevin looked up from his phone, having lost interest in the film once the initial court hearings were out the way and he had got into the WAM stuff, "Pass me the sick bucket" he deadpanned.
Joe threw his arms around the huge prop, "Come on Kev, it's like art innit?" Everyone laughed, including me. I loved these boys, each and every one

"Come on Kev? Is that the third part of this trilogy?" Chris asked, to more laughter, and also the middle finger of Kev, hoisted in his direction.

"You in on this one, Johnno?" Sam asked asked John, who as ever, was sat by his side.

"Well bit late now, to start to get any dignity eh?" He said steeling his fingers beneath his chin in a learned way, before ruining the effect by laughing.

On the screen we were back in court, Joe in the dock, smart, but subdued again.

Sam leant over to me, "so when does this one go live?" He asked quietly as the others watched the film.

"As soon as everyone here is happy, we've done all post production stuff. I wanted to get Joe's sign off after a full viewing. I mean he's the main character and people may blur the lines between fact and fiction here so wanted to clear it one last time"

Sam sat back, twirling a pen in his fingertips, "I guess, but most of your audience are only here for the gunge and seeing us lot with our knobs out! You'll think they'll take it too seriously?"

"I doubt it, and we have the 'This is entirely a work of fiction' banner at the end but I just wanted his final say to make sure he's happy.

Ok, the entirely a work of fiction bit isn't one hundred percent true. After the success of Rugby Rumble Joe had indeed had a fit of regret, knowing he had contacted me and it was down to him half of his team had appeared nude in a gunge video, and was worried about the public reaction. He had come out to Sam and with his support, the team. As I would expect from Sam it was taken as not being an issue and Sam even thanked Joe for making contact with me as it had saved the club. As Sam had stated in his script, that he wrote himself, I had no hand in that, it had helped Chris come out, and Mark had found himself as a man, after the break up with his wife.

I looked around, swollen with pride, with what I, correction, we had created. Before me was a gang of the most open hearted, genuine, non judgemental supportive men who had helped revolutionise the WAM industry. We had moved from some terrible shakey hand held productions to a glorious spoof game show, and now onto actual drama. Ok there was real sex in it, between the two sex workers, porn stars in real life, and real masturbation from Joe, and of course the finale. Which in itself should allay my fears that people may confuse the production as factual.

The banter, laughter the playful slaps, and chocolate bar throwing continued as the video played on towards the final scene. I sat back, a proud man



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

The judge removed his spectacles and peered over a Joe, now standing in the dock

"You have been found guilty of all charges filed against you, and it now falls to me to administer suitable punishment. You shall now be punished by your peers" he said, rising, ordering and collecting files and leaving the bench. His clerks scurried behind him. Both barristers stood and nodded in reverence before leaving their boxes and exiting out though the court.

Joe remained standing and was joined by the two guards who stood by each side. As of hearing an unspoken command they, with synchronisation turned to face Joe
The guard to Joe's left reached up to his tie, undoing the knot, as the other guard dropped to his knees to undo Joe's shoes. By the time was the tie had been fully removed Joe was barefoot. He stood staring forward as the tie loosening guard went to work removing his jacket and undoing his shirt buttons while his companion freed Joe of his belt and reached for his trouser button. He drew down the zip and firmly yanked Joe's trousers down. Well formed muscular legs rippled fibres as the guard tapped Joe to lift one leg and the other. The shirt followed in seconds, a broad, hard chest, trimmed chest hair with a small trail of hair working a fine line from his pecs, down over his six pack and disappearing into his boxers.

Joe stood facing forward, the obvious tenting of his boxers betraying his excitement. One guard pulled the waistband of his boxers out releasing his penis that sprang up as his boxers were dropped to his ankles. One more tap to his legs and a foot lift and he was naked in court.

Taking one arm each the guards pulled Joe back to the centre of the dock, standing close shoulder to bare shoulder keeping him in place. The foreman of the jury calmly pressed a button at the side of the jury's box opening the tank above the three men's heads. Purple natrosol cascades down over all three men, the uniforms of the guards suddenly disguised under the cascade of gunge. Joe, not having clothing to break its decent was covered immediately, rivulets running freely from his head over his shoulders, down the hair trail to his penis, reaching up, straining to receive the gunge. His trimmed pubic hair barely hindered the flow as it journeyed down coating his legs and feet, the hairs on this quads now lying flattened. His hand broke free of his guards and circled his cock, massaging the gunge into his balls, grinding his shaft and bellend with the mess.

The foreman exited his jury box, with the second member following suit, only pausing to press the button again.

A deluge of orange gunge fell from the tank, covering the purple with orange, mixing colourfully into a giant mess. The guards stood stoically at Joes side, still as the second onslaught rained down on them. Joe looked up into the flow, using his hands to scrape back the gunge from his scalp, clearing his face.

The third juror left, silently not passing comment as the button was pressed again, this time yellow. A fourth juror added green, a fifth, white.

The dock was starting to fill, a thick layer submerging Joe's feet entirely, over his ankles. The guards could fill the gunge toppling over the highest part of their shoes, into them as they looked impassively forward.

The sixth juror pressed a button, but having exhausted the tank, it clicked impotently as Joe stood waiting for the next barrage as the already released gunge ran slowly down all sides of his body. A temporary pause.

The seventh juror exited the jury box from the opposing end. Pressing a button at this side triggered jets of custard aimed at the dock from just infront the jurors box to jump into life spraying all three men squarely in the faces then aiming down over bodies. The eighth, ninth and tenth jurors administered the same fate. The caps of the guards had long gone, and hair plastered flat dripped the custard inside shirt collards, slowly making the way inside clothing.

Jury member eleven pressed his own button and the entire jury desk rotated forward revealing several shelves of custard pies, trifles, cakes, jugs of gunge, the arsenal for the final juror., who pressed a large red button at the centre of the desk and the doors at the rear of the court opened. Whooshing back on their hinges.

There in full rugby kit stood, Kevin, Sam, John, Mark, and Jez. They ran into the room, and headed straight for the jury console, now bristling with new supplies. Joe bound over the dock, gunge flying off his athletic body as he vaulted the rail. His hard cock bounced before him as the race to the table hotted up. John, being the quickest player reached the groaning table of pies before his closest rival Sam, a big grin lightening up his face, making his eyes twinkle. John picked up the nearest pie and twisting his body slammed it into Sam's face. Custard flew off, behind him, hitting Chris on his jersey. Sam reached the table and through his hampered vision grabbed two pies, throwing one at John. It caught him half on the face, coating his left cheek with yellow custard, the second pie thrown back across the courtroom towards the onrushing heavier pack of players.

Jez roared as the flying pie hit him at neck level splattering up, coating his beard. He launched himself forward crashing into the table, sending pies and gunge flying, splattering Sam and John who were mid pie fight, trading pies to the face, and wrestling each other onto the ground, slithering through the mess.

Mark, who had grown a short stubbly beard and grown his hair a little longer grabbed a pitcher of gunge and poured it over the head of Chris, who had stopped to help Kevin up, who being the hooker was the least mobile had taken a skiddy tumble in the growing mess. A naked Joe tackled Mark and they both flew back in the mess, landing just short of the table, that was rapidly losing supplies as the melee ensued. Joe reached up and blindly groped for weaponry, raining down pies, and upturned pitchers onto the prone Mark, who twisted his body free and grappled with the naked player, Joe's erection bobbing wildly as Mark rolled into him, twisting him down into the mess, pinning him down as they grunted and grinned in the exertion.

There was a brief armistice as all wrestling stopped and the stood in a rough circle, panting, grinning. Chris was blowing hard, hands on knees. Joe moved into the circle and turning slowly smiled at each of his colleagues, his cock still up, throbbing

"Good to see you lads" he said, "you lot joining me naked?"

"Damn right" Mark shouted and tugged his shorts down. His now famous large cock flopped out. As he ripped off his boots his team mates joined him, tops, shorts, shoes socks flung aside until they stood in the circle again. All naked. The camera drunk them in, Joe and Chris hard and proud, the rest equally as proud, yet soft.

From the ceiling, above the court floor more tanks emptied out their contents onto the team. Any fresh clean portion of skin, the odd chest, buttock, penis was soon disguised by the deluge. Wave after wave it fell, crashing down onto them.

As the carnage continued Sam called them in tight to a circle, arms around bare shoulders as they huddled together. More than a circle of naked gunged men. More than a circle of team mates. More than a circle of friends. It was a circle of brothers.

I watched as the credits rolled.