It was the last week of term in my first year at university. Exams were over and the results were not due until the end of the week. It was also my 19th birthday and I was out getting pissed with my mates - Mark, Jamie, Nick, Scott and Chris. I was sorta average all round - just under 6 foot, size 9.5 feet, slim(ish) and short spiky brown hair. We were only at the Union but I always tried to look at least half decent, with what little money I had. I had a pair of baggy black cotton cargo pants on, a white Volcom top and white socks, and black Vans. I also had my really nice white CK boxers on which I had bought as a treat for myself the day before.

The bar shut at midnight and after drinking up my stacked up shots and we wandered back to our halls. I was feeling decidedly unsteady and I was 'caught off balance' as my hands were cuffed together round a lamp post. I had wondered if anything was going to happen tonight and it looked like I now had my answer! A grinning James put on a blindfold on me and then I heard footsteps disappearing into the distance. Shit - where they going to leave me here all night? I tried the restraints but I wasn't going anywhere. I hoped they came back soon.

About five minutes later I heard them come back. Be careful what you wish for...

"Right, it's time for your birthday surprise!" said James. I could tell he was smiling.
"Why don't you fuck off!" was my addled response. As witty retorts go, it was not one of my best.
"What a filthy mouth - we better give him the look to go with it!"

I heard a crack on my head and then felt a wetness in my hair and dribbling down my neck. That yolk was going to be hell to get out of my white tee. I kicked out just to provide some resistance.

"Right, we'll have those trainers off - we don't want anyone getting hurt!" said James. My Vans were pulled off. It may have been summer but the path was still cold through my socks. I felt another egg cracked open on my head. I ducked a little to get the egg to soak into my tee and protect my cargos. As futile efforts go that turned out up there with World peace and trying to open those small containers of milk you get with coffee in cheap restaurants without spilling the contents all over yourself.

The buttons on my two large leg pockets were undone and felt eggs being placed inside. I lost count but it must have been about 10 in each. The pockets were done up again and I felt a tapping against my leg as someone lightly kicked me.

*Smack* *Smack* *Smack* *Smack*

My cotton cargos were soon soaked through in no time. I could feel it running down my legs and soaking into the top of my socks. Then I felt my tee pushed towards my body and a dampness. I recognised the smell instantly; tomato ketchup and I was not a fan. If I hadn't of guessed I would have had a second chance when it was sprayed into my face and hair.

A hand started to loosen the drawstring that kept my cargo up. I struggled like mad because I was kinda of enjoying this attention too much and I really didn't want them to um well, 'notice'. I had always dreamt of this happening to me but I didn't want people knowing I liked it. That's why I ducked out of the 'pegging out' I should have got in Scouts. But now, right here, I hadn't been given that choice.

And I was very grateful for that. However I didn't want them seeing what was happening in my CKs. Worse still they might pull them down too! Oh man, no-one had seen me naked. I pushed my knees out as wide as possible but three pairs of hands stopped my efforts and soon my cargos were bunched at my ankles to cheers and high fives. I felt a hand squeeze my cock through my CKs - just briefly but enough for me to know it wasn't an accident. Who the hell was that? They had obviously taken advantage of the others celebrating my 'debagging'. Advantage of the situation and me I was snapped back into the here and now by a rendition (or murdering frankly) of 'Happy Birthday' from my asalents. Suddenly I could feel a warmth near my face.

"Time to blow out your candles and make a wish Dan. But make sure you blow them all out - it's unlucky if you don't." I blew with as much gusto as I could manage, moving my head left and right. Christ, that made my head spin. My wish, well I can't tell you that - I'm sure you can guess

I could head sniggering from my assembled audience and it lead me to believe that I hadn't been entirely successful.

"Ha! You lose! Here you go." James said - was that to me and someone else? "I'm not going near that!" Not me then.

I felt the waistband of my boxers pulled out. Shit - they are going to leave me here exposed! They wouldn't! No, they wouldn't; they really wouldn't. I kept telling myself that in case it helped shape the future in any way.

My head was clearly addled by the serious amount of alcohol I had because the thought of being left here tied up, blindfolded, helpless, being totally trashed and with my pants around my ankles exposed to anyone passing by was really turning me on. Dirty, dirty boy... Once again I was snapped back to reality as I felt something gooey entering my boxers.

"That's your birthday cake" said James. His voice was more distant than before so it obviously wasn't him. The hand mashed the cake (which I later found out that it was an extremely gooey chocolate cake) against my body. It smeared it around my balls and then up and down (and up and down and up and down...) against my oh so erect cock. I couldn't help but let out a small whimper and he chuckled. Who the hell was that?

And then it stopped and my waistband of my trashed Cks snapped back against my body. I gasped with shock and before I knew it I had chocolatey fingers in my mouth. I sucked them clean - I had no idea then why but I guess in hindsight it was to send a signal to this hand. And more importantly the body it was attached to. I just wouldn't have done that it I wasn't drunk and blindfolded. I was in a world of my own. And it was a nice world.

The hand returned to my boxers and grabbed a bit of the mashed up cake. That got smeared across my face - I must have looked a complete state! I felt whoever it was wipe his hands on my cargos before pulling them back up over my chocolate stained boxers.

"Okay, we can finish this now or we can leave you here for an hour or so - what's your choice?"

It was James again. The moment of someone else being in charge passed. I wanted that back so much. I wanted to know who that was. I wanted his hand back down there tending my, umm, cake.

I was feeling very tired. And horny. But oh so tired. "Now. Take me home" It wasn't addressed at James, it was at whoever's hand had delivered that cake to me boxers. Which one of my best friends had done that?

"The easy option. But not necessarily the easiest option". God I hated Philosophy students! James was cute though - but obviously didn't want anything to do with my underwear. Straight or overly defensive?

"Okay, put his Vans back on lads." My feet were directed towards my Vans. I felt a wet feeling through my sock and tried to pull back but my feet were forced and the laces were tied.

"That's the custard to go with your cake!" laughed James. The bastards! They were only about six months old! And who the hell has custard with a chocolate cake anyway?! Philosophy students...

I wiggled my toes - it was a kinda nice feeling though! I felt myself being covered in flour (that took a while to get out of my hair!) and a few more eggs for good measure. After that onslaught I got myself ready to be released. Shower, bed, dreams...

"You look a bit messy there - let's help you clean up". With that I felt hands grab hold of the neck of my t-shirt and then *rip* - my Volcom tee was ripped from my body. James used to smear all the gunk across my face, hair and body.

"I don't think he deserves those nice pants either if he's going to get them all messy!" I heard a tearing sound as one of my cargo pockets were torn off.

"Aw, shit man! These weren't cheap." I complained.

"There are now" and then I felt hands pulling at the remaining cargo pocket and the front pockets. They held out for a while but the relentless tugging of the many hands of my friends some saw the whole of the front of my cargos torn open. With much giggling and a few more tugs they were ripped clean off.

I was held as my hands were uncuffed from the lamp post, recuffed and the blindfold removed. I was standing there in just my chocolate covered CK boxers, custard filled Vans and covered in gunk. I had to walk across campus for ten minutes like that. With my 'mates' laughing at me. Bastards.

I was slightly pissed at losing my clothes but happy, already plotting my revenge. Birthdays were going to be a bit different around here in future. But as I lay in bed after a much needed shower my main concern was finding out which hand had taken care of my Birthday cake.

Little did I know then that my main concern was soon going to be passing my resits so I was still at University next year...