We were nervous. It wasn't as if we didn't want to do it - we'd seen something similar on youtube a few months earlier and liked the look of it and wanted to try it for ourselves. It just took a while to find somebody who was up for it. Jake was the first person we asked, and he said yes.

So, the way it was going to work was that myself, Chet, and my mate Stu would be the players in a dare games show that would be resided over by Jake. Jake was responsible for the games, the quiz questions and the forfeits; we had already told him in advance what we would and wouldn't do. Me and Stu had played before, but having Jake there was upping the stakes considerable. For one thing, Jake was straight, whereas me and Stu were gay. No big deal, you might think? But I always get more embarassed doing stuff like that in front of a straight guy. Besides, he said he had a surprise for us, which was a bit scary.

We arrived at Jake's house, complete with a couple of changes of clothing and he took us into the kitchen and gave us a beer each. He asked how we were feeling and we said that we were fine, but nervous. For the first time, I wondered if I should have outgrown all of that kind of stuff when I left my teens behind a few years earlier. Should a grown man of 25 really be doing this kind of thing? Dare games were for school kids.

Jake smiled, and asked us if we wanted to get started and we nodded, hesitantly. We followed him through to his lounge, where he said we would see the surprise he had got for us. When we walked in, we saw two video cameras with people standing behind them, and, even worse, twenty people, seated in rows of five. They were all about our age, and some were younger. I didn't know any of them

Jake grinned.

"You said you wanted it to be like a dare game show. What's a game show without cameras and an audience?"

He explained that some rounds would have to be done outside, and some would be in the bathroom or bedroom, depending on what was going to happen.

"However," he said. "The first round will be a buzzer round."

He handed us a couple of small hand-held buzzers as one of the audience got up and wheeled in a trolley, the contents of which was covered by a cloth.

"Now, this is John," Jake said, gesturing to the audience member at the trolley.

John lifted off the cloth, revealing around a dozen cream pies.

"Ok," Jake went on. "I'm going to ask you questions on music. I'm going to give you the name of a classic album, and you need to give me the artist. Each one you lose, you get a pie in the face."

It would be wrong of me to deny the fact that a certain part of my anatomy was rising to attention even as the first album title was said by Jake. I tried to concentrate as it pushed against my jeans.

"The Wall," Jake said.

I pushed my buzzer, and could see from the corner of eye that Stu did the same. I was relieved when I found I had beaten him to it.

"Pink Floyd."

As Jake said yes, John was already shoving the cream pie into Stu's face. His face was covered and, as he spat out a bit that had made it's way into his mouth, a dollop of cream dropped off his chin and landed on his shirt. Our audience thought it was highly amusing.

Without time for a break, Jake said "Electric Ladyland."

I knew the answer as Stu was Jimi Hendrix mad, but he beat me to it this time and gave the correct answer. The pie hit me in the face even before I could even register that he had said the answer. Anyone who tells you that cream doesn't sting when it goes in your eyes is lying. I rubbed at my eyes and wiped the cream away, flicking it off my hand at Stu. I sniffed and felt some of it go up my nose.

"A Kind Of Blue."

A Kind Of Blue? What the hell was he playing at? He would have known that neither of us would know who recorded it. We both really hated jazz. Neither of us buzzed, and neither of us escaped without a pie. I looked across at Stu and he smiled back. This was going to be fun, in a weird kind of way.

"Ok, and the last one in this round. Abbey Road."

One of my favourites. Stu didn't even know the answer. I told Jakes that it was the Beatles and Stu moaned as another pie hit him bang in the middle of his face. John, the guy from the audience, handed us both a towel and we wiped off most of the cream from our faces as Jakes began to tell us about round two.

III

Now, I don't know about you, but I'm not a fan of having cold water being thrown over me by the bucketful. So, you can imagine my "delight" when I saw that the next round would involve just that.

We were led out into the garden where two guys from the audience were standing with three buckets of water on the ground beside each of them. It didn't take much working out, that if you got the question wrong one of the buckets would go over you. At least it would wash the final remains of the pies off our faces, I thought.

Jake informed us that this round revolve around sheer luck rather than knowledge. I've never been lucky, and the thought thrilled me with dread. He pointed to a girl in the audience area called Sophie. She had a pile of large playing cards with her. Each round, myself and Stu would have to guess the value of each card, and the one closest was the winner. At least it wasn't taxing on the brain.

Sophie held up the first card with its back towards us. Jake turned to face me.

"So, Chet," he said. "What's your guess?"

I thought for a moment and then said "ten". It was the first number to come into my head. Stu said he thought it was a six. Jake asked for Sophie to turn the card over. A nine. I had won the first round and escaped the first drenching. I turned and watched as one of the lads picked up one of the buckets of water, and swung it towards Stu. A torrent of water hit him in the chest, soaking his shirt, face and the top of his jeans instantly. He looked in shock, the poor guy.

Sophie held up the next card. I went for a four, and Stu went for a nine. It was a five! I had won again! I couldn't believe my luck. Stu jokingly called me some names that I won't repeat here and another gush of water sailed through the air towards him, but he didn't see it come for it came from the back. Another look of shock on his face.

Jake announced that it was the last of this round as Sophie held up the card. I said I thought it was a seven. Stu went for a king. It was a queen - and it wasn't the first time that a queen had got me in trouble either. I braced myself for the water. It came hurtling towards me, but was aimed lower down than the ones thrown over Stu. It hit me full in the crotch, soaking my jeans and boxers right through. I felt my dick contract due to both the shock and the cold, which was just my luck, as Jake announced that, in the next round, we would be playing for our clothes.

Of course it would have been that little bit too easy if Jake had come up with a straightforward round where clothes would come off a piece at a time and eventually one of us would be naked. Instead, he had decided that we would play all or nothing. By the end of the round, one of us would be stark naked, and the other would be fully clothed. But there was even more to it than that. The person who lost would get naked and then be unceremoniously carried to a bed where he would be tied down and tickled. Following that, he would have to play one more final game which had yet to be explained.

Jake's idea for the strip round was to do with films. He would name a film, and a choice of two decades in which it could have been made. All we had to do was buzz in and say which one we thought was correct. Of course, Jake had also chosen films that none of us had ever heard of!

Me, Stu and the audience were back inside now, and I shook hands with Stu and wished him luck. I don't think he thought I was sincere.

"Ok, here we go," said Jake. "The first one to get three correct is the winner, and can relax for the rest of the games. First question. It's an easy one. Star Wars. 70s or 1980s?"

I saw Stu go for his buzzer, but I got there first and shouted out "70s".

Jake told me I was correct.

"The Doorway To Hell. 1920s or 1930s?"

We looked at him dumbfounded. How the hell were we supposed to know. Stu shrugged his shoulders and buzzed.

"30s?" he asked.

"Yes, well done."

It was 1-1. Great, my advantage had already been taken away from me. I got ready for the next question.

"Beautiful Thing. 1980s or 90s?"

Again, I knew it was the 90s, but Stu beat me to it this time. I was one question away from being naked. I breathed deeply and hoped for the best.

"Brief Encounter. 1940s or 50s?"

I didn't have a clue, but went for the buzzer anyway.

"50s," I said. "Please, Jake, let it be the 50s!"

He smiled and shook his head.

"Take your clothes off," he said.

I looked at him and cringed. I was still wet and cold from the last round and I was sure that my penis was smaller now than it had been since I was ten! Slowly, the audience, Stu and Jake started chanting "off, off, off" and I knew that there was no way out. I stripped off my shirt and socks, dropped my trousers and slowly pulled down my boxers shorts. I was naked and more embarassed than I had probably ever been before in my life.

Suddenly I was surrounded and being lifted up and carried up the stairs to Jake's bedroom. Before I knew it, my hands were being thrust into a handcuffs, and my feet were being tied to the foot of the bed.

Tickling is one of the things in the world I hate most. Jake started it off. He came into the bedroom holding an electric toothbrush, and he switched it on, rubbing it up and down the soles of my feet. My body spasmed. I didn't want to laugh, but had no choice. As more people joined in, working on the backs of my knees, under my ribs, my armpits and my thights, I realised I was not in control in any way.

I kept yelling for them to stop, I had had enough. No-one paid any attention - I wouldn't have done either in there position. I was totally at their mercy. Totally hating it. Totally turned on.

And totally about to wet myself with laughter if they didn't stop.

They stopped just in time, thankfully. But now came the twist. I was the naked one and so was playing the final round by myself. I was going to be blindfolded and made to guess a series of different food items by their smell alone. I just knew that Jake would have chosen the most difficult foods to guess. The problem was that each one wrong was going over me. Jake walked over to me and put a blindfold on me, while everyone crowded in trying to get a view. Stu stood in the corner, giggling, thinking the whole thing was hilarious.

Jake told me the first food was coming my way. I sniffed but couldn't really smell anything, which didn't help. I guessed at cake - a cake wouldn't smell, after all. Not much anyway.

"Wrong," came the reply and the next thing I knew there was an egg being smashed into my hair and rubbed in. I was so embarassed and yet I got a hard-on - in front of a group of strangers. The next item didn't smell of anything much either. I guessed wrong again, and stood there while two litres of ice cold milk was poured over my head, cascading down my body over my backside and my cock. I couldn't believe it.

Next up was the caked I had guessed in the first round - but this time I didn't get it right and a big fat sponge cake covered in cream smashed into my face with such force that I nearly went over. Stu told me later that even Jake, the straight guy, had a huge hard on by this point.

"So," Jake said, "this is the last one. The end of the game. Get this right and you get to pour it over me. Get it wrong and it goes over you, plus you have to jerk off with it in front of everyone."

This wasn't good. I liked the chance of getting Jake back, but not so much the chance of having to wank in front of a group of people I didn't know. The food wafted under my nose, and I recognised the smell. Baked beans. It smelled just like baked beans, and I was about to say that as my guess, but then I realised it wouldn't be that easy. And then it came to me.

"Spaghetti," I said.

I knew I was right before Jake even told me. The room just went silent. I ripped off the blindfold and looked at the huge tin of spaghetti in front of me. Revenge.

"This is going to be sooooo good, " I said.

"Where are you going to pour it? Jake asked.

"Over your naked body."

"Hey, I ain't getting naked!"

We had other ideas. Me, Stu and a couple of others from the audience stripped Jake of his clothes and carried him into the bath. It was so hot to see him squirm. His cock rose to attention as the first drops of spaghetti splattered onto his chest. I moved the spaghetti down his body, so it started to drip closer and closer to his cock. Unlike lots of guys these days, he had a good bush of pubes, and as the spaghetti dropped over him I knew all too well just how awkward it was going to be wash it out of there. As his cock started oozing pre-cum, I realised that this had been one of the most humiliating and yet hottest days of my life.