This story continues the story of Nate, after his appearance on The Escape Room in Nate's TV Gameshow Humiliation. You may wish to read that story before continuing with this one. Thanks to RainbowMatrix for some of the ideas in this chapter!


Nate pushed open the locker room door and walked over to bench where he usually got changed. The locker room was empty, not uncommon this late in the evening, when most of the gymgoers were finishing up their workout or already headed home.

Nate loved his job as a personal trainer at the gym. It meant he got to spend all day in one of his favourite places, and also gave him free reign after the gym closed to use all the equipment he wanted and to work out in peace - all for free. It gave him the opportunity to work on his body, which even he had to admit was looking better than ever. As he stripped off to change into his workout gear, he flexed his biceps, posing in the mirror, enjoying how good he looked.

With the gym emptying out at the end of the day, Nate didn't have to worry too much about what he wore to work out, so he just quickly pulled on a tank-top and a pair of lycra, Under Armour shorts, without anything underneath, laced up his trainers and headed out to the gym floor.

By the time he'd finished warming up with a quick jog on the treadmill, closing time had passed and the gym was empty. Nate locked the doors and headed to the weights room, shedding his shirt on the way - with nobody in the gym, there was no reason for him to wear more than he needed to, and this way he could admire his muscles in the mirror as he lifted.

As he lay back on the weights bench with dumbells in hand, he reflected on the past few weeks. It was now just over two months since he'd appeared on The Escape Room, and around a week since he'd received a call from the producers to tell him his episode was being broadcast that night. He'd told himself he wouldn't watch it. He didn't need to watch it, he didn't need to see his humiliation again - every second of it was imprinted in his mind. But in the end, he couldn't resist. Maybe it wasn't as bad on TV as it had seemed at the time. Maybe the producers would have cut some of the worst moments of his humiliation out. Surely they wouldn't show all that on TV.

They did. Of course they did. And no, it wasn't as bad as Nate remembered. It was worse. The cameras trained in on him as he fell again and again into the gunge; long, slow pans up his gungy body; extended shots of slime dripping from his face.

And the cameras zooming in as his treacherous cock reacted to the touch of the other wrestlers, hardening in his tight gungy singlet. He'd hoped the gunge might cover some things up, make it less obvious what was happening. But no. If anything, the gunge covering him made it more obvious on TV, as the cameras lingered on his throbbing, pulsing ten-inch cock, clearly outlined in the gunge-covered singlet.

And then the worst humiliation. First the shots of the first wrestler's slimy cock unloading its sticky cum all over his face. The camera lingering on his look of combined disgust and horniness as the wrestlers hadn't allowed him to wipe it off. And then worst of all, watching himself as he was driven to the biggest, most explosive orgasm of his life, cumming in his singlet as the other wrestler had shot his load over his face. They'd caught it from two angles, and showed it multiple times in replays. First him cumming helplessly, which was bad enough, but then the close up on his face, frozen in ecstasy, moaning in pleasure, as it was covered in load after load of sticky, slimy cum. And then the part Nate hadn't remembered, the close-up shots of him whimpering and moaning as he came down off his own orgasm while the two loads of cum on his face mingled together and dripped down slowly, as he sat there in a pool of slimy gunge.

Nate's cock stirred in his shorts as he remembered how it had felt, both experiencing it and watching it back. He pushed those thoughts to one side and tried to concentrate on his workout. Two more sets on the bench press and he'd move over to the squat rack. With the gym empty he could focus on watching himself in the mirror, and how great he looked in his Under Armour shorts - maybe he'd even film a couple of sets and put them on his Instagram. He was getting a lot more followers recently, and it would be good to capitalise on that.

"Yo Nate! Working out late?" came a voice from the other side of the room.

"Oh hey Jack, how's it going? I didn't realise anyone else was still here this late."

"Yeah man, just finishing up now. Dan's here too, we've just been having a session with a couple of clients in the spinning studio. We'll hit the showers and then be gone. You okay to lock up?"

"Sure man. See you tomorrow."

Jack and Dan were the other two PTs working at the gym. If Nate was honest, he didn't think they were a patch on him. Sure, they were pretty fit, like all PTs were, but neither of them was as big or as strong as Nate was. Nate was glad he'd been shirtless when Jack came in - he'd definitely seen his eyes shifting down to look over Nate's muscular chest, probably wishing he looked as good as Nate did without a shirt on. Well, he just needed to work harder, didn't he. Nate grinned to himself. It was always good to assert his dominance over the other guys in the gym.

Twenty minutes later, Nate was just finishing up on the squat rack. He'd got a couple of good videos for his Instagram, including one where he'd angled the camera on the floor just right to focus on his muscled ass as he squatted down towards it. That'd definitely get him a whole bunch of likes.

"Hey Nate!" Jack was calling to him from the locker room. "Could you come give us a hand a moment?"

"Sure, Jack, sure." Nate re-racked his weights, and, exasperated, walked across the gym floor towards the locker room. What did they need now? At least it'd give him another opportunity to show off his powerful chest.

"Okay, what's up guys, what do you need these muscles to help with?" he grinned as he walked in. But there was no-one there. Nate looked around in confusion. Suddenly, without warning, he was grabbed from behind by four strong sets of arms, and dragged across the room to one of the banks of lockers where he was pushed roughly against them and, before he could get up, his arms pulled above his head and cuffed to the pipes running across the top of the room.

"What the fuck, guys?" Nate protested as Jack emerged in front of him, accompanied by two others who Nate assumed must be the guys Jack and Dan had been training in the spinning studio.

"All good Jack?" one of them asked.

"Yeah, mate, thanks for your help. You know Nate's Instagram handle, right? Keep an eye on it over the next hour or so. I think you'll enjoy it."

"Heh, yeah, I think we will," the guy responded. "See ya."

As the two other guys left, Nate was puzzled. Why would they need to keep an eye on his Insta? His phone was still out on the gym floor, he wasn't planning to post anything until tomorrow. Then he saw Dan come back into the locker room, holding Nate's phone in his hand. Like Jack, he was dressed in the gym's uniform, black shorts and a tight, shiny red t-shirt. Both were barefoot.

"Guys, come on, what's going on?" he yelled at them. "Give me my phone back and let me go."

"Well Nate, having seen your starring role on TV the other night..." at this they both sniggered "...and seeing how much very obviously enjoyed the experience..." they laughed again "...we thought we'd give you the chance to re-live it. Oh, and to share it with all your Instagram followers, I'm sure they'd enjoy it too."

With that, he set up the phone on the wall opposite Nate. On its screen, Nate could see himself, dressed only in tight lycra shorts, ten-inch cock bulging impressively and his strong arms pulling fruitlessly against the cuffs holding him in place. And the icon in the corner of the screen that showed him the images were being live streamed to all of his followers. And the number was counting up all the time.

"Guys, no! This isn't okay! Let me go, I'll..." Nate's protests were cut off as a sloppy custard-filled pie hit him direct in the face. Cream and custard sprayed everywhere, shooting up his nose and covering his face, sliding slowly down until the paper plate at the bottom dropped to the floor. Jack and Dan were creasing up laughing, and the number of viewers continued to count up.

"Having fun Nate?" they laughed?

"No!"

"Maybe this'll be more your kind of thing."

Suddenly Nate heard something creaking and tipping above him. He looked up, wondering what was happening, just in time for a torrent of gunge to catch him full in the face. The gunge poured down over his head and face, running down his body, covering the biceps and pecs he was so proud of, dripping from his pointed nipples.

"Enjoying that more, Nate?"

"No, fuck you, let me go."

"Oh that's right, it's green gunge that's more your kind of thing, isn't it? Well, that can be arranged."

Nate barely had chance to draw breath before he heard another clunk above his head and a stream of thick green gunge poured down on him. He stood there, helpless, arms bound above him as the gunge ran down his body, turning him green and covering his chest, abs and his lycra shorts. Some of the gunge pushed at his waistband and slipped underneath, and Nate squirmed as he felt the slimy cold gunge running around his cock and his sensitive balls.

He couldn't see any more, his face was so covered in gunge, but he could definitely hear Jack and Dan laughing to each other. Then he heard one of them pick something up - it must be heavy judging by the grunt he let out - and walking over towards him.

"Here you go Nate, hope you enjoy..." he heard, just as another stream of gunge was poured over him. Slowly this time, his hunky jock body was covered in another bucket of cold, slimy gunge. And he had no option but to stand there and take it, as his humiliation was beamed, live this time, to hundreds of viewers online.

"How's he doing, Dan?" asked Jack, from across the room. "He enjoying it as much as he did on TV?"

Dan ran his hand over Nate's slimy, lycra-clad bulge. Nate gasped and tried to pull away, but with his hands bound to the pipes above his head and his back against the lockers, he couldn't get far. As Dan's hand groped at his bulge, Nate pleaded with himself - 'don't get hard, don't get hard'. But his cock clearly wasn't listening. Slowly, helplessly, as Dan's hand rubbed the slime around across the front of Nate's tight shorts, his cock hardened, lengthening to its full length and bulging out the gungy lycra.

"There we go, I knew you'd enjoy this eventually... gunge slut." At that last pair of words, Dan gave Nate's ten-inch cock a firm squeeze and Nate moaned helplessly. Just hearing those two words brought back his humiliation at the hands of the two wrestlers in the gunge pit, willingly taking their loads in his face as he shot his own in his singlet, and his cock was reacting to it. He tried to block the images out of his mind, but he couldn't - especially knowing he was being filmed and streamed live on the internet this time.

At the same time, Jack had positioned himself above Nate, and poured another bucket of the green gunge over him, this time angling it to run down Nate's face and the front of his body, and engulfing his cock, bulging out from his body. Gunge streamed around his cock on both sides, until Dan pulled out the front of the shorts and allowed the thick, slimy gunge to cascade inside. Nate gasped at the new sensations, the slippery gunge coating his cock and filling his shorts. Once the bucket was emptied, Dan let the shorts snap back with the squelch, and Nate was left to stand there with a massive bulge of gunge in his shorts, gasping at the sensations of his ten-inch cock swimming in a sea of gunge. The other two drew back, to let Nate's followers drink in his humiliation, and this hunky jock trashed for their entertainment.

As the gunge slowly dripped down the legs of his tight lycra shorts, Nate became aware of the other two guys whispering across the room from him. What humiliation were they planning for him now? He was powerless to resist, whatever it was. All he could do was drip gunge and bits of pie, and feel his horny, messy cock pulsing in his shorts.

He didn't have to wait long to find out. Dan marched back across the room towards him holding another pie, his bare feet squelching through the gunge streaming the floor. He turned to the phone camera, and addressed those watching. "Shall I pie him again? If you think I should, hit the heart." Nate watched helplessly as the screen lit up with hundreds of likes all at once - all his loyal followers, who usually replied to every photo he posted telling him how great he looked and how much they looked up to him, or wanted to have muscles like his, were now voting for him to be humiliated even further.

"Looks like that's a yes!" shouted Dan. He slammed the sloppy pie into Nate's face, rubbed it in, and then dragged it down his body, down his chest and across Nate's throbbing cock, leaving a smear of custard and cream on the front of the lycra shorts.

It was Jack's turn next. He walked over to Nate with another sloppy pie in his hands, slipping through the gunge on the floor. "Okay Nate, we'll let the viewers choose whether you get pied again - but this time, you have a chance to convince them. When I say go, I'll give you ten seconds to talk to your followers, and convince them not to hit the link button. Fair?"

Nate didn't answer, just glared back.

"Good. Go!"

It was so quick, it took Nate by surprise. Quickly, he started talking: "Hey guys, please don't pie me again, I think I've had enough for today, please, don't you, come on, please..." He trailed off as his ten seconds was up. And the likes piled in. Jack slammed the pie into his face.

"Sorry Nate, looks like you didn't do a great job of convincing them, and we have to give the people what they want, don't we? Okay, one last pie, and again, you get to try and convince your fans not to pie you.

"Oh, and this time I'll make it a bit more fun for you." He reached down and gripped Nate's cock through his slimy shorts, giving it a squeeze. Nate moaned. "Go!"

"Ohhhhh, fuck, guys, please don't ohhh fuck don't pie me please ohh fuck ohhh don't pie ohhhh fuck fuck." The screen lit up as hundreds of likes came in, and Jack shoved yet another pie hard into Nate's face.

As the plate slowly slid down his face and eventually dropped to the ground, Nate moaned in humiliation. If it wasn't enough to be gunged and pied live on Instagram, now he'd basically been jacked off while begging not to be pied in front of thousands of people.

He stood there, his breathing ragged as his cock pulsed and bits of pie dripped from his face. He didn't understand how he could be so horny, humiliated in front of this many people. His fans. But he was. His cock was ragingly hard, displayed for all to see in his tight, thin, lycra Under Armour shorts.

"Looks like the gunge slut is also a pie slut," laughed Dan. Nate started to object, but Dan silenced him by running his fingers over Nate's cock again - that's if moaning can be classed as silenced. Jack laughed, and as Nate moaned, he poured another bucket of gunge over his head.

"You wanted followers, Nate - looks like you got them." And it was true. Nate's follower count was higher than it had ever been, and continued to grow as he watched. "Shall we give them a show?"

Nate moaned, but he knew it was no use protesting now. If they wanted to humiliate him more, they would do. And he was powerless to resist. Both because of the restraints binding him to the pipes above him, and because of his own horniness.

Dan reached over and began to tease Nate's slimy cock through his thin lycra shorts. Nate moaned, and caught sight of himself on the phone's screen. He was squirming on the screen, moving his hips helplessly, desperate for more contact - even when Dan removed his hand, he continued to grind his hips involuntarily, lost in a sea of horniness and rubbing the tip of his big sloppy cock against the fabric of his shorts, searching for whatever relief he could get.

Jack and Dan stood back and watched the helpless, horny gunge slut, covered in pies and slime, willingly humiliate himself in front of his watching audience. Nate couldn't tear his eyes away from his fit, muscled, gunge-covered body on the screen, watching through the remnants of pie still covering his face and obscuring his vision. He watched himself thrusting helplessly in the air, desperate for relief, driving himself into a frenzy of horniness.

Watching Nate's whimpering mounting, it became clear to Jack and Dan that he wasn't far from shooting a massive load in his shorts, even without their help. They met each other's eyes and grinned - they knew exactly how to compound Nate's humiliation at this point.

Grabbing a bucket each, they positioned themselves above Nate. They watched as Nate thrusted mindlessly, faster and faster, moaning helplessly, teasing his horny, slimy cock against the inside of his thin lycra shorts, driving himself closer and closer to orgasm. They watched closely as the jock crested the peak of his ecstasy and as he reached the point of no return, they emptied both buckets of gunge over Nate's head.

Nate roared as he came. It was the biggest orgasm of his life, the most powerful, and it felt amazing. At the same instant as his cock shot its first sticky load into his messy shorts, a deluge of warm gunge hit his head and poured down around him.

As his cock continued pumping out load after slimy load, gunge rained down on Nate, engulfing him in a sloppy mix of blue and yellow slime. It ran down his face and all down his hunky body, coating the beefy pecs and well-defined abs that he'd worked so hard on as he whimpered involuntarily in ecstasy.

And the screen of his phone went wild with likes and comments from fans and viewers who loved what they were seeing. Not that Nate knew that, of course. It had been such a powerful orgasm that he could barely see straight - and even if he could see, it would only be to look into the torrent of gunge that was still pouring down on him.

Jack and Dan grinned at each other. This could hardly have turned out better. They high-fived, and climbed down from their position above Nate, standing in front of him again, barefoot in the gunge pooled around him..

"Looks like you enjoyed that, Nate. And your followers too. That was a great show you put on."

Nate moaned, and slumped in his restraints.

"I think you need a little time to cool yourself down. We'll be back in a few minutes." And with that, both Jack and Dan left the locker room. Nate pulled at his restraints. Where had they gone? They couldn't leave him like this, surely? He bellowed after them, demanding they come back, but there was no response. After a couple of minutes he resigned himself to standing there, watching his powerful body on the screen hanging from its restraints dripping gunge on to the locker-room floor.

It felt like an age, but it was only a few minutes later when Jack and Dan re-entered the locker room, carrying another bucket of gunge. Nate groaned. Surely that was it. They couldn't be planning to do anything more to him, could they?

Dan came over to Nate, reached above him and unlocked the cuffs securing both his hands to the pipes. Nate was too drained to react quickly enough to pull away, and before he realised it, his hands had been re-cuffed behind him. He watched helplessly as the key was dropped into the bucket of gunge Jack was still carrying.

"Okay, Nate, just find the key in there, unlock yourself, and you're free to go." Jack placed the bucket down in front of Nate's phone, which was still broadcasting. "Oh, and we left you a little extra gift in the bucket, since we know how much you enjoy getting messy."

With that, the two guys sniggered, picked up their gear, and left.

Nate walked over to the bucket, paddling his bare feet across the gungy locker room floor - what could they mean, an extra gift? Then he saw it, and realised. It couldn't be more obvious, and that's clearly what they'd been doing during the minutes they were out of the room. On the surface of the bright pink gunge, at the bottom of which was the key he so desperately needed, were two big, sticky loads of cum. And to get that key out, he had no choice but to dunk his head into the gunge, pushing his face into and through their cum.

He moaned in resignation, and looked at the phone screen. It was still streaming, and the comments were still coming in. Now he was closer, he could read them:
"Yeah, go gunge slut, dunk your head in that bucket"
"Get your head in that mess, you know you like it."
"More cum on his arrogant jock face, I can't wait"
"Fuck, he looks so humiliated... So fucking hot"

Nate looked around the locker room. He had no other choice, did he? It was either this, or walk out on to the street, hands cuffed behind him, covered in gunge.

He knelt down in front of the bucket, took a deep breath, and pushed his head forward and down, ass up in their air as he pressed his face through his tormenters' sticky loads and down into the gunge. He hunted for the key, head submerged in gunge, thinking what he must look like to those watching. He came up for air, and realised that with his hands secured behind his back, he couldn't wipe the gunge off his face - and this time, he could feel the slimy cum sliding down his face... and smell it too. He looked up at the screen of his phone, capturing his last humiliation for the thousands still watching. Yup, the stringy cum was obvious across his handsome features.

He dived down into the bucket again, searching right down to the bottom, pushing his face and his head deep into the gunge - and finally he felt the key! He grabbed it in his teeth, pulled it out, dropped it on the ground, picked it up behind his back, and after a few minutes of fiddling with it, released the cuffs.

He got up and grabbed his phone, finally switching off the live stream. As he did so, he noticed that Jack and Dan had changed his username - he was now @gungeslut. No wonder he'd gained so many followers and viewers in the last hour. Sighing in frustration and humiliation, he made his way over to his locker, and opened it.

It was empty.

The fuckers had stolen his clothes.