It was well after sunset when Jake got the word from the bakery truck. A man in a white side-buttoned shirt and neckerchief leaned out of the truck with arms spread wide in a sorrowful expression. They were finally out of pies. Sorry to say this, folks, but it looks like we're down to our last few pies! The crowd moaned with disappointment. Christian lifted his cream-coated head toward heaven and said a quick prayer of thanks.

We've only got a handful of these creamed beauties left, Jake said. And there's just no way that everyone still in line will get a shot in. The moan built to a groan. To be fair now, Jake pointed out, many of you had already had your shot with the stooge. Sometimes several times over. Those who had not yet gotten a chance to throw a pie pushed to the front of the crowd, waving their money frantically. Jake smiled and held up a hand.

Now, to be fair, there is someone these pies were promised to already.

Boos and jeers issued from the crowd. Who was it? Why should he get the last shots? What made him so special?Jake spoke firmly but calmly into the microphone. Okay, okay, hang on a minute there, everybody. This request was put in yesterday at the gym before we even began our proceedings today. His pies have all been prepaid for. A few guys whipped out extra tens and offered twenty-dollar bills in the hopes of hijacking those purchased pies. Jake shook his head.

Let's just say that this person truly believes in our cause, so unless any of you men would care to replace those Hamiltons and Jacksons with some Benjamins, I'd say he's still got you beat. There was a whine of defeat among the would-be pie throwers, but then a few of the girls began to applaud. There were looks of confusion until the scantily-clad ladies pointed the various signs bearing the name of the charity. That's right, folks, Jake said proudly, just think of the amount that is now going to this amazing cause! It was then the clouds lifted and everyone present began to realize that rather than steal away their final pies, this fellow, whoever he was, had just donated hundreds to their charity. The applause grew with whistles and whoops as Jake hollered, Talk about the cherry on top of the pie!!People were now bouncing in place and hugging one another.Inwardly, Jake rolled his eyes. Most of them had never even heard of the charity, but the idea of being part of some great event made them feel special. Sheep.

Let's prepare our precious stooge for the finale!", Jake declared. The muscle boys hosed Christian down with the last of their seltzer bottles and left him there, drenched and spent. He shot a look of death at Jake, who simply sent a silent signal of thumb and middle finger spreading his mouth wide and in immediate response, Christian smiled brightly against his will.

And let's meet the man who has given so much to help our Stooge's 1st Annual Pie-Apalooza have such a smashing send-off! Music blared from loudspeakers and Pat Benetar sang our her classic, Hit Me With Your Best Shot. Striding down the red carpet (now pink in most places and stained with whipped cream and chunks of smeared banana) at a brisk pace came the final attendee. He was gorgeous. Average height, but far, far above-average build. He had the chiseled body of a superhero, sculpted abs and every muscle group stood out as if carved flawlessly from marble. He wore tight red gym shorts, hi-end athletic shoes and no shirt. Christian recognized him instantly. As the beautiful man made his way forward to cheers and handshakes and pats on the back and shoulders, Jake shouted into the mic. Preeeee-ZENT-ing, Patrick Seymour!

Patrick did a little hopping dance, as if he were a boxer preparing to enter the ring. Jake played it up, saying, Patrick is a personal fitness trainer, health enthusiast, nutrition expert, marathon runner, and he has an award-winning pitching arm! Let's give it up!! Everyone followed his lead and cheered as if they were being presented with a renowned celebrity rather than some hunky gym rat they'd just met.

A moment while I check on our stooge, Jake smiled.

Jake hopped over to the beaten Christian and spoke softly in his ear. How do you like your final surprise? I know you've been all, Daddy, can I have one?' ever since you first laid eyes on him.

Christian panted as he caught his breath. How...how did you talk him...into this?

Jake shook his head, grinning maliciously. Why don't you tell me?

Christian's eyes looked suspiciously at his captor, conveying an excess of impotent rage for the stupid smile pasted over his face. Jake just stared back, cocking his head toward the red carpet behind them. Go on. Take a look.

Christian did. And at first he didn't know what he was supposed to be looking for. There was Patrick. He was gorgeous. Nothing new there. His muscles glistened in the harsh floodlights. He must have oiled up before coming. Patrick nodded and smiled at onlookers, sharing 'guy hugs' with everyone who was close by. He flashed that smile. That bright, beaming, heart-melting smile that you just knew was completely genuine. Christian began to feel himself get lost in that smile once again...until something else caught his eye.

Patrick turned and looked to Jake, tossing a friendly wave.There was something off in his eyes. Something dim and glassy. No one else would have noticed it, unless they both knew Patrick personally and knew what to look for. Christian did both.
He's been hypnotized, Christian realized. He turned to Jake with an accusing stare. You hypnotized him!!", he shouted. Jake had the mic off and behind his back, lest Christian's words be heard by the audience. The pervading din of excitement was enough to cover that. Jake only looked at Christian and nodded. Drawing close to his stooge's ear, he whispered, For a lot longer than you might think, stooge-boy.
Christian seethed but knew there was little else he could do. How long had Patrick been under Jake's influence? And to what extent was he being controlled?
Oh, you'll find out all you need to know about your hypno-buddy Patrick soon enough, Jake whispered, anticipating Christian's questions. But first, here's something far more important you need to be made aware of.

Jake spoke forcefully to Christian, his lips pressed against the stooge's ear. The stooge accepted all that he said and felt it set within his mind as if it were molten steel poured into a casting block. By the time Jake stepped back, moments later, that steely command was already cooling into rigid, immovable shape. You got that?", Jake said.

Yes, sir, Pie Master, sir, Christian said mechanically.

Good boy, Jake said. Now be happy and encouraging.He held the mic up to Christian's mouth, turning it back on with the flick of tiny switch.

Let's wrap this party up, everybody!!!", the stooge cried against his will. It sure looked as if he were into it. With a spring in his step, Jake bounded back to the ticket table and joined those who had been taking all the money.

Patrick approached the table where the pies had been handed out all afternoon and evening. Here we go, Jake announced to the crowd. Our very last half dozen pies. That's it.When these are gone, the show is over. There was a partial hush that fell over the group, and some murmurs of disappointment that all this grand and glorious fun had to come to an end.

However!", Jake said with great cheer in his voice. We did save the best for last. Behold.

The man from the bakery rolled up a long cart bearing the final six pies. They were massive. Each pie was easily three times as large across as the standard pies seen thus far, with more than four times the filling and cream, prepared on special plates of sturdy cardboard to survive impact. The crowd went wild and inwardly, Christian shuddered.

Making quite a show of it, Patrick strutted down the carpet brandishing the gigantic pie plate. Christian's heart pounded in his chest. Patrick's approach toward him began to slow as the world perceived by Christian the Stooge went into slow motion, The command that Jake had whispered into his ear came back to Christian in a quiet whisper, but with irresistible force.

Every time Patrick hits you with a pie, you will cum. You will climax instantly and reach orgasm with every impact. It will be the most amazing, mind-altering, body-trembling, world-moving orgasms you have ever had. Each one more powerful than the last. You will cum as you never have before. With every. Single. Pie.

Christian knew this to be true. He was too well conditioned, too deeply under Jake's control for it to be anything else. Patrick approached. He was all smile and glazed eyes. An expression of cheerful malice at play upon his face as he strode forward, time catching up to him, life regaining its normal speed in Christian's eyes.

WHAMM!

Patrick hit Christian full in the face with the first pie. Cream went everywhere, the plate was so huge that it wrapped all the way around the sides of Christian's head, covering his ears.There was a spongy cake crust under all that fluffy cream and thick filling, which maximized the spread of the goo, saturating the stooge and obscuring his face. It was just as well. Nobody was able to see the stooge's 'O' face.

Christian's body shook. His balls churned with semen and his cock spewed forth a geyser of jizz unlike anything he'd experienced before. Every muscle in his body tensed and he was overcome by paralyzing waves of pleasure.

Oh God, I can't take this...it's so intense...like nothing I've ever...oh Jesus, make it stop...so...ohhh...holy shit...don't...don't stop...!!

Christian felt his shoulders tense and his fingers claw at empty air. His legs went limp and became jelly beneath him, feet losing all purchase with the ground as his toes pointed inward like a suspended rag doll.

The crowd ate it up. As Patrick whirled to face them, sculpted arms raised in triumphant fists, every onlooker laughed at what they were certain was the stooge's outlandish performance to heighten the effect of the moment.

Look at him twitch! Holy cow, what a goofball!"Play it up, stooge!

Patrick returned to the pie table and picked up two at once. Jake nodded. Do it, dude. Not about to miss this opportunity, Jake lifted his mic and yelled, Sandwich!

The crowd fell silent, uncertain of what he meant. Was he going to throw sandwiches now? What? Patrick held the twin pies aloft and Jake made gestures with his palms coming together and yelled again into the mic. Sandwich! Sandwich! The crowd figured it out and took up the chant. Sand-wich! Sand-wich!! SAND-wich!!!

Patrick raced up the carpet at high speed and brought both pies two and three together on either side of Christian's head with a mighty percussion.

SPA-LAMM!!

Cream burst outward and upward and all over the front of Christian's clown suit in a massive wave. Everyone cheered at the tremendous splash of pie goo. Christian, caught in the midst of it, became suddenly, sharply aware of every muscle in his arms and legs and ass. They clenched and held as he shot another load that felt as if it were easily the equal of that which had just smashed into his head and hosed down the carpet around him. His hips bucked and his toes clawed at the inside of his boots.

Good GOD!! Stronger than before...uh!...uh!...uhh!!...body can't take this...muscles too tight...can't let go of this...oh, oh, oh ohhhhh...more...need more....!

Patrick took a grand bow and everyone went crazy. Before Christian could even begin to collect himself, the fitness trainer already had the fourth pie in his hand and was racing back up the carpet toward the stooge.

No, not yet...not yet...at least let me collect myself...can't catch my breath...not yet...not yet...!

Patrick whirled his arm around in a big circle as if he were going to throw an underhand pitch at high speed, if such a thing were possible. He practically danced his way up to Christian, making quite a show of it. But as Patrick swung his arm, he drew close and his real target came clear. He was not aiming for Christian's face. In the next second, Patrick's whirling pie-wielding arm made contact with Christian's crotch.

THWATCHH!

Christian lurched forward at the waist, his progress hindered by the shackles around his wrists. His entire pelvic region came alive with arousal and ejaculation.

HUHH!...omigod...omigod...Huhh! Huhh!!...Haaahhhhuh!

He had no idea the muscles in his ass could clench so tight. He shot and shot, uncertain where all this man juice was coming from. Would he never run dry?
Patrick had the fifth pie in his hand now. He was bouncing it gently up and down in his palm, strolling casually toward the decimated stooge. Christian spat cream from his mouth, gasped for breath in desperate wheezes that had nothing to do with the cream, goo, and gunge that covered his face and obscured his nose. His hips had stopped thrusting, his ass had unclenched, but his dick was still releasing a steady stream of cum, like a garden hose that had not been shut all the way off. He felt himself stop draining jizz just as Patrick made it up to him. He knew his brief respite would not last much longer.

SPLATTT!

Patrick brought the second-to-last pie down atop Christian's head like a gooey hat. Cream and filling rained down over the stooge's shoulders and spattered over the tops of his boots. Christian's entire body shuddered. With the last of day's light fading and a cool breezing blowing in off the lake, everybody assumed the intense shivers were due to the cold. Everybody was wrong. Their stooge felt his hands fly open with splayed fingers, his elbows locking and forearms tensing. If his wrists ended in they torn wires of an industrial cable rather than with flesh and blood, wild sparks of uncontrolled electricity would be arcing off his digits and lancing about in all directions.

Oh, holy mother of God in heaven...!!...can't move...can't move...body frozen...cock throbbing...shooting...shooting...I'm cumming...I'm cumming...where am I?...what's going on...can't think anymore...just cum...oh someone help, me ... cumming ... cumming some more ...!

After an eternity of six seconds, Christian the Stooge felt his entire body go limp. He felt as much cream inside his concealing rubber cock pouch as he did all over his body and costume. If not for the bonds holding him in place, he knew he would be face-down on the moist and saturated carpet right now. He had never felt so weak, so spent, so utterly dehumanized and totally humiliated. And he shuddered inwardly as he realized...he had never felt so happy.

By the time Christian blinked away the last of the cream covering his eyes (and two of the large muscle men helped by offering a few fingers to scrape away the larger globs of topping and cream filling), he could see Patrick approaching with the sixth and final pie. Patrick was spattered with bits of pie himself. But unlike Christian, the flecks that peppered his bare chest and chiseled abs only made him look better, whereas Christian looked only like a stupid fool.

Patrick looked like he 'owned the room' as the saying goes, as he strode up to the devastated stooge. Patrick held up the pie to the audience. This was it, the grand finale. Everyone applauded and cheered. Whistles were heard as Patrick turned to face his victim. Christian started to shake his head. No, please don't. As Patrick moved in closer, Christian shook his head harder. No, no, please, no. I've had enough. Laughter rose in the audience. Clearly the stooge was just milking this, playing it up for laughs, right? ... Wrong.

Patrick applied the pie. No huge impact, no big splash. Slowly, Patrick pushed the giant pie into Christian's face and pressed. Moving his hand in a slow circle, he began to smear it around. Cream spread, fillings dripped, soft crust cracked. Christian shook.

No...holy shit...nonononooo...ohhhhHHH...FUCK!!!!!!

Unwittingly, Christian sucked in globs of cream and did his best spit or swallow as he thrust and squirmed and shot his biggest load yet. Where was it coming from? How was it possible to even feel like this? This good, this aroused, this fucking, brain-numbing intense?! And why the hell didn't Patrick stop smearing that goddamned PIE??!!!

Patrick didn't, either. He just kept pressing the pie against Christian's face, smearing to the left, then the right, then upward, all so slowly, so cruelly. Everyone watching loved it and applauded the showmanship and silliness, completely oblivious to how helplessly hard their amusing stooge had become and what that meant.

Tiny, jerking thrusts from Christian's hips sent forth more streams of jism, sending lightning bolts of intense pleasure down his legs and up his spine.

I ...I ... I... I... !!

In the slowest movement of all, Patrick slid the smothering pie up Christian's face to displace the pie plate that had been there and rest at last upon the top of his head.
Christian was finished. His body was like a fire hose firing through a soggy sponge cake. His legs were less fortified than the loose globs of cream scattered everywhere. If not for the steady tingling running through his arms, Christian would have thought those limbs had been removed. He could not feel his feet. His toes twitched inside his clown boots. Once, twice. He felt his toes rub against the smooth purple rubber. It was only for an instant, but long enough to reassure him that he had not been amputated at the ankles. He could still feel his dick. Oh God, could he. Stiff, strong, spurting. Squirt! Splurt! Squuiiiirrrrtt. Split. Splut.

Patrick stepped back and threw his arms up in victory. After basking in the adoration, he moved aside and extended an arm to the battered stooge, who hung on his stocks, head slumped forward, fingers digging slowly at nothing, legs twitching pitifully. Without a doubt, stooge Christian was completely out of cream filling.

Jake knew he had to act quickly, lest even the dimmest bimbo watching realized that Christian was not play-acting. Let's hear it for our stooge, people!", Jake cried into the mic. And I've just got preliminary tallies for our eventwe have broken all records for this charity for a one-day fundraising event! Give yourselves a round of applause! As everyone whooped and cheered, the ever-handy musclemen detached Christian from his bonds. He practically melted into their arms. Jake allowed no one's gaze to linger on him. We need to get our man of the hour cleaned up now! Who's gonna help us get this place cleaned up? Let's leave it looking like we were never herewe don't any reasons for someone to say we can't do this again sometime! Fellas, we've got hoses over here. Who can help roll up that carpet? If you should happen to throw a bit of pie or hose each other as you cleanhey, it happens!

With new mischief at hand for everyone, Christian was quickly forgotten. No one saw the three musclemen hefting the stooge over their heads like a plank of plywood, carrying him off the lot and to a nearby car Jake had prepared for him to be poured into. Patrick was on hand, speaking softly to the drained and defeated human pie target.

We'll get you home, buddy. You did great. You should be very proud of yourself. Helluva turnout for a worthy cause, Christian.

Christian felt the last vestiges of consciousness leaving him. As his awareness faded, he felt a cloud of confusion settle over his mind. Who's Christian? he wondered. My name is Stooge.


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


Christian had lost track of what day it was. He sat on the floor of his refurbished basement. Gone were the plastic tarps and bare walls. The bottom floor of his home was now a finished studio, complete with wall speakers, sturdy shower curtain backdrops, hoses, a drain in the floor, and even a large refrigerator unit for keeping copious amounts of pies. Christian was uncertain when exactly all this renewal had taken place, but came to accept it as the natural order of things.

His head was a bit foggy, his thoughts a bit muddled. But that was also normal these days. He was dressed in a clown suit. It was the only kind of clothing he owned anymore. His body was buff and sculpted, trimmed and toned. The clown suit he wore was like the one he had worn on the day of his big Pie-Apalooza, all white and purple. But this one was not loose-fitting. This clown suit was snug as spandex, but made entirely of shiny white rubber. The gloves and boots were brilliant purple, but equally made of sturdy rubber. Waterproof. Easily wiped down and cleaned off. Christian's impressive build also made his oversized feet, his little conical hat, and suit look even more ridiculous on him.

The daily humiliations continued, sometimes for hours at a time, and Christian was actually grateful for the rubber clown suit. He still felt demoralized, but no longer felt as wet and sticky all over. Today was supposed to be a big day, according to Pie Master Jake. Christian just sat there and waited for whatever announcement his master no doubt thought was wonderful, and Christian knew with great certainty would only make him feel like an idiot.

You would not BELIEVE the hits your video is getting!

Jake raced into the room carrying a laptop. You have GOT to see this, Stooge.

He set up the laptop on a small milk crate beside his stooge. Firing it up, the screen showed YouTube and a video called 1st Annual Stooge Pie-Apalooza FINALE. It was footage from the day Christian had been publicly humiliated at the old beach bandstand lot. It showed Patrick slamming him with pies, the audience cheering him on, and Christian's helpless reactions.There were jump cuts, zoom-ins, and other excellent features that indicated the video had been both professionally shot and edited. It made the 9-minute video fun to watch, made it seem to go faster than it did, and it made Christian look like a complete imbecile.

Look at the number of views!", Jake beamed.

Christian did. 1,014,537 and climbing.

Over ... over a million views?", Christian asked, dumbfounded.Did you rig it to say that?

No way, Jake smiled. Your videos have become popular everywhere. Daily Motion, Funny Or Die, Facebook, Twitter ... Oh, you're fucking huge on Twitter, Stooge. And you should be so happy about how that's helping my business venture.

Business venture, Sir?", Christian asked. What ... wait, did you say videos? Plural? How many ...? Christian shook his head, starting to get up from the floor. What's been going on?

Jake shot him a harsh look and said, Sit.

Christian's rubbered ass went right back down onto the floor.Yessir.

Jake was almost giddy with success. (Success of what?) When I saw all those people going bug nuts at the bandstand, I was all like, 'How can I tap into this?' I mean, I didn't even hypnotize them to be that into it. It was like schadenfreude meets slapstick meets kink meets gunge fetish!

Christian just looked at his master blankly.

Jake was smiling so brightly. He looked at Christian. Don't you get it??

Christian shrugged. Nope.

Jake waved a hand indicating he would make everything crystal clear.

Dig it, Jake grinned, rested his elbow on empty air. He leaned to the side slightly, appearing to be supporting himself on nothing.

Christian just stared at him, unimpressed and too exhausted to care. What, has all this clown bullshit inspired you to take up a career in mime?

Jake just smiled brighter. He waved a finger back and forth at his human puppet. You can't see it. Don't you get it? It's invisible to you!

Christian just sighed. Pie Master, I'm very tired and demoralized. What do you want me to say

Jake cut him off by saying, When I snap my fingers twice and give you the trigger word, you will see again that which your mind has hidden. Snap, snap. Reveal.

Instantly there appeared beneath Jake's arm, a highly sophisticated-looking video camera set upon a very sturdy professional tripod. Christian sat up suddenly.

Where the hell did that come from, Sir?!

Jake laughed. It's been here all the time! I just hypnotized you not to see it. Jake walked around the camera and smirked at his stooge. Christian took notice of the fact that Jake never once crossed before the lens so that his face could be seen.Christian also saw that the red recording light was flashing.

How...how long have you been taping me, Pie Master, sir?", Christian asked, suddenly feeling very nervous and exposed.

You have no idea, Jake grinned. By about our third or fourth session, I just knew that your humiliation was too damn good to just let go every night, forgotten except by the two of us.

Jake clasped his hands together gleefully and smiled. I decided to share the wealth. There was malice in that wide spread of smiling white teeth. Jake walked over to an empty side table that Christian never really acknowledged or cared about. Had it been empty the entire time? How long was thathow long had it been just sitting there, with no pies or props on it? Jake again snapped his fingers twice. Snap, snap. Reveal discs.

A stack of CD jewel cases appeared on the table. Or rather, they had been there all the time and Christian could only see them just now. Jake picked up the first disc and held it up to Christian. Written on the DVD disc was the title STOOGE 1. Jake winked at Christian, These hold up to 90 minutes of video files. Christian gaped at the stack of disc cases. There were at least a dozen of them in plain sight. Each case held another disc. Each one was full.

At first I was just shilling them out at a few pie and WAM fetish sites", Jake explained.

Wham?

WAM. Double-you, ay, em. Wet and messy. Stay with me, Stooge. But then after that day at the bandstand, this video posting. Well, dig it. Jake grabbed the laptop and entered a web address. He then turned it back for Christian to see.

www.GayPieStoogeVictim.net

There were images a'plenty of Christian in his clown suit being pied. Some of him in his humiliating T-shirts, others where he was completely naked. In all of them, he was being spattered, bashed, and covered with a barrage of pies. There was a Free Tour selection, a subscription option (daily, monthly, yearly), and various pages. Membership allowed you access to the video archives and a huge series of photo galleries. The online store provided the means to purchase DVDs of videos and CDs of photos. Visa, MasterCard, Amex, and Discover accepted. Below the main page was a counter, ticking off the number of visitors to the site. It was up to seven digits.

You're a fucking star, Stooge.

All the world could now see what a stooge Christian was (for a price). This was by no means what he had wanted back when he asked his handsome, muscled friend from the gym to hit him with a pie.

Christian watched horrified as Jake skimmed through clip after clip, pausing here and there to get the full effect of all that he had done. In one of the clips, Christian was buck naked, save for a giant red clown nose, feverishly jacking himself off. As he reached climax, Christian saw himself fall to his knees and ejaculate into a cream pie, his face a mask of open-mouthed ecstasy. Then he lifted up the pie plate, his member still dripping with cum, and smeared the pie all over himself. It was undeniably hot and kinky, especially as Christian began to lick the plate hungrilythe camera zoomed in to see him lapping up plenty of spooge along with the whipped creamand at the same utterly devastating for the poor stooge to watch.

Other clips showed how the stooge spent his days. Working out extensively, but always in clown shoes and red nose. He sculpted and maintained his body while still looking like a complete oaf. After one series of strenuous arm and chest exercises, the stooge poured himself a protein shake and downed it greedily. He then hefted the large blender in which he had mixed it and poured the rest of the shake all over himself.

He did pushups up and down into pies. Impressive pull-ups were rewarded with pies to the face each time Christian brought his chest up to the bar.

During his pie and gunge sessions, Christian had different outfits now. All of them were of the same design as his white and purple clown suit of skintight rubber, but he also had suits of turquoise and white, pink and green, some with polka dots, dizzy and mismatched plaids, star fields and absurd patterns. Wherever his old clothes had gone, he no longer remembered. All he wore now were costumes. That, and pies. LOTS of pies.

One free video on the site was titled Watch the Stooge Quit His Old Job! It was a hidden camera affair, of the kind used on reality programs, in which Christian, in a clownish suit coat, baggy pants, clown shoes and red nose, walked into his office and announced to his boss, I quit, sir. I've found my true calling. I'm a STOOGE now!
Christian only vaguely recalled that happening. A quick glance to the far corner of the room where his office belongings sat in a cardboard box convinced him the scene shown on the video really did take place. When had that been, anyway? Days ago?Weeks, months?

Christian sighed. His old life was over. He was a stooge now. In fact, he could no longer recall what his name had once been at all. He knew he had another name once, but each time he reached for it, all he came up with was Stooge. This time was stronger than the simple mind games Jake had played on him once before. This time, Stooge knew his old name was gone forever. He was Stooge now. His make-believe dream of being a pie stooge was now a very real daily nightmare.

Jake placed a hand upon Stooge's shoulder. Buck up, old' buddy, I've got something that will make you feel much better.Stooge looked up hopefully. I've got us a hook to increase your viewership!

In walked a beautiful man with an exquisite body, clad in a skintight rubber clown suit identical in cut and style to the one Stooge was wearing. Only this new fellow's clown costume was yellow with large orange polka dots. His boots and gloves were fire engine red, as were the pom-poms on his tunic and hat. Despite himself, Stooge smiled when he laid eyes on him.

Patrick??

Patrick knelt down beside Stooge and grinned very sincerely. What did you call me? Who's Patrick? My name is Buffoon.

A tiny, very quiet voice in the back of Stooge's mind cried out that this was wrong, it wasn't the right name for this beautiful, beautiful man. He too had been captured by Pie Master Jake and needed to be freed while there was still time.

But the tiny voice faded very quickly.

Stooge smiled. Okay, Buffoon. I'm Stooge.

Buffoon smiled back. I know.

The two leaned in to kiss each other, but Jake stopped them.

Hang on, hang on, he ordered. One sec.

Jake squirted some super glue onto Patrick's nose from a small tube and then affixed a large red clown nose there that matched Christian's. 26...27...28...29....annnnd 30 seconds. Okay, you're good.

The two hapless, hypnotized clowns leaned in and kissed passionately. Neither of them ever intended to be reduced to pay-per-view fools. But at one time, both of them admired the other from across a gym floor and wishes they could be together. They wished the other one would say something, or that they would someone work up the courage to make the first move. Now those concerns were behind them and that former longing was strong enough to overpower any internal warnings about how they had gotten to this point or what they were being made to do. They were happy.

Never breaking from their kisses, Stooge and Buffoon knelt before each other and stripped each other of their clown suits.Tenderly kissing neck and shoulders, caressing arms and lightly fingering back. The two soon performed before the camera they only partly saw, naked but for muscles and red noses.

Stooge and Buffoon rubbed together, cocks pressing close and hard. They gripped each other in a strong embrace as they shot a huge load all over each other. As they flopped over onto their bare asses, all grins and giggles, Jake picked up two massive banana cream pies. He gave them a hand cue the two clowns didn't even know about and forgot as soon as they received it. Jake reeled back with both hands as his two cash cow clowns smiled beautifully into the camera. In unison, they spoke cheerfully.

Hey, everybody! The man once known as Christian glowed, I'm a stooge!

The former fitness trainer previously called Patrick chimed, And I'm a buffoon!

Together they beamed, Thanks for watching Gay Pie Stooge Victim dot net!

Jake let fly with his pies.

SPLATTT!!!

SPLATTT!!!