Welcome back! If you're new here, don't forget to read Part 1.

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After dismissing his four star wrestlers, Coach hurried to his office. He jogged in, closed the door and quickly slid behind his desk, fumbling with the on-switch for the monitor of his computer. Getting it turned on, he clicked on the top-most icon of his desktop, and smiled as a window opened.

Two months ago, Coach had had CCTV installed in the locker room and in the showers. He'd told the dean that the cameras were essential to ensure that the college remained a drug-free zone and the dean, only too keen to keep up the college's sparkling reputation, had authorised the purchase immediately.

Now, rather than illicit transactions, the cameras were recording four gunge-covered jocks entering the locker room, and transmitting those pictures directly to Coach's computer. Coach watched closely as all four peeled off their slimy, messy singlets, dropped them to the ground with a splat, grabbed a towel and headed for the showers.

Coach hurriedly reached for the button that switched cameras to one focused on the showers. On his screen he watched the four jocks walk in, butt-naked, still dripping gunge despite having removed their singlets, and switch on the showers.

All four wrestlers had great bodies, the result of long hours lifting weights in the gym, and many sessions training on the mats. They all had big strong chests, wide shoulders and bulging biceps, and strong thighs, as well as powerful bubble-butts that looked almost as good out of a singlet as they did inside one. None of them was too big and muscly though - their bodies showed that clearly all knew how to balance work and play.

And those bodies looked even better covered in slime.

Coach sat back in his chair with his feet up on the desk. He idly groped his hardening cock through his pie-spattered shorts as the four wrestlers unwittingly gave him a show. They stepped under the hot, gushing flow, and set about washing the rest of the gunge from their hunky bodies, running their arms over their muscular chests and bending over to slide gunge down their legs.

Scott mainly focused on cleaning pie from his face, while the other three lathered up to get as much gunge out of their hair as possible. Coach zoomed in as Marc slid gunge down his long, thick cock. Since installing the cameras he'd been able to confirm what had only been too obvious through the boys' tight-fitting singlets these guys weren't just gifted on the wrestling mats.

All too quickly though, the show was over - for now. The boys switched the showers off and headed back to the main part of the locker room. Re-adjusting himself, Coach turned off the monitor, and made his way back out to the gymnasium, ready for the wrestlers to make their reappearance.

Just a couple of moments later, they did, still with damp hair and wearing the fresh singlets Coach had left out for them. They lined up in front of the crowd, a line-up of muscle in their singlets, junk bulging heavily at the front, clearly visible and unconstrained by jockstraps.

Coach addressed the waiting crowd. "Welcome back everyone. I hope you're enjoying the day so far. Please do remember that we're doing this to raise the money to take the team to the State Meet next month, so do throw your coins and notes into the collection buckets around the gymnasium."

As well as the wrestlers' fellow students from Storm Heights College, the crowd was also made up of a number of men who'd got in touch with Coach after seeing the wrestlers' exploits in the previous year's fundraiser in videos uploaded on social media. Coach had been chatting to them online, gathering ideas for this year's games, and had charged the men to come along and watch. And as a bonus, he'd also sold access to the locker room and shower cameras via a subscriber-only website. Coach knew he'd already raised easily enough to take the four wrestlers to State Meet, with plenty left over.

Coach explained the rules to the second game. At one end of the gymnasium was a knee-deep trench filled with slimy looking green gunge. Ten feet or so away, a line had been painted on the floor, and another twenty feet behind that were two big, empty, transparent tanks.

"Here's what you'll do, boys. Lucas, Marc, you'll be standing knee deep in the gunge, and when I blow my whistle, you'll grab the buckets there, and fill them up from the gunge around your feet. You'll then throw that gunge to Scott and Alex, who are waiting behind the line to catch it.

"Scott, Alex, once you've caught the gunge, you'll run to your team's tanks behind you, and empty it in. The team with the most gunge is the winner! Simple!

"I'm afraid we did have a slight hitch though. Scott, Alex, I'm afraid we could only get two buckets, and they're the ones Lucas and Marc will be using. You two will have to catch the gunge they throw to you down the front of your singlets."

As the two jocks looked shocked, the crowd laughed and cheered. Alex and Scott would definitely be getting very messy in this game.

"Okay boys... GO!"

Lucas and Marc raced quickly across the gym and jumped into the trench filled with gunge, gasping as the cold, slimy liquid came up to their knees. They both grabbed a bucket and filled it from the gunge around their legs, turned around and saw their teammates in position, both holding out the front of their singlets and screwing their eyes shut.

Lucas let his gunge fly. He watched as about a fifth of it met its target, falling down the front of Scott's singlet. Most of the rest hit Scott square in the face.

"Sorry dude," he shouted, laughing.

Alex hadn't fared much better. Marc's bucket of gunge had hit him square in the chest, with some of it running down inside his singlet, the rest of it just covering the outside of it, running down his legs and dripping to the ground.

Both jocks ran, dripping gunge, to their team tanks, where they tried to work out how best to transfer the gunge from inside their singlets. Scott tried to hold out the front, and lean forward to make it fall out. When that failed, he tried running his hands closely up his body, forcing the gunge out of the top of his singlet and into the tank. Figuring he'd got as much out as he could, he quickly ran back to the start.

Alex meanwhile had realised it might be as easy to get the gunge out of the legs of the singlet. To make that work, he stepped into the empty tank. Then, pushing his hands against the front of his singlet and then down his legs, he forced the gunge out into the tank. He climbed out, and ran back towards where Marc was waiting, just in time to see a poor shot from Lucas, the smaller jock throwing a full bucket of gunge right into Scott's face.

Lucas's shot had been so poor that Scott had hardly caught any gunge in his singlet, leaving Lucas to try again, throwing another full bucket of gunge across the floor at Scott. Again, Scott took more than half of it full in the face, and was so disorientated he failed to catch much down his singlet, the rest of it hitting him and running down his body.

Alex didn't fare much better. He faced Marc, watching as the tall wrestler let another bucketful of gunge fly towards him but he'd misjudged, throwing far too hard, and gunge slammed into Alex's face. Holding out the front of his singlet, he couldn't even wipe it off, as Marc reached down into the gunge to refill and try again.

Coach stood back and watched the merry chaos of the game, gunge flying everywhere, and Scott and Alex getting hopelessly messy. Even if their team-mates had been great shots, the buckets were big enough that there'd be far too much gunge in every throw for them to catch down their singlets. That meant that the gunge mostly hit their bodies, leaving them slimy and slippery, and repeatedly splashed into their faces. Even the gunge they did catch got them messy, sliding down their chests and their abs and pooling in the front of their singlets.

The gunge flying everywhere had also had the result of making the floor treacherously slippery, and the crowd enjoyed watching the two big, muscled jocks treading gingerly as they made their way to dump the gunge from the singlets into the tanks at the far end of the gymnasium, bare feet slipping in the slime and running between their toes.

After throwing multiple buckets into their teammates' faces, the boys in the gunge seemed to finally have their eye in. Lucas managed to get pretty much the entire contents of a bucket down the front of Scott's singlet, only getting a small amount on the bigger jock's chest, which Scott pushed down inside the singlet too. As he ran, gunge sloshed around his cock and his balls.

It wasn't the first time he'd had a singlet full of slime. In the last fundraiser, he'd accidentally popped a whole load of balloons full of gunge inside his singlet, and he'd been surprised to find himself enjoying the sensations of his cock flopping around in a sea of gunge. Now, he remembered those feelings from a year ago and again, he realised he liked how it felt. He could feel his cock beginning to harden, and he took the opportunity to subtly grope it through his singlet as he pushed the gunge up and out of the top of the singlet and down through the legs. Realising that his singlet wouldn't hide his growing hard-on, he decided not to empty out all the gunge, and ran back towards where Lucas stood in the gunge.

"30 seconds left guys, you need to hurry," Coach shouted from the sidelines. Alex and Scott re-doubled their efforts, and Coach smiled as his little trick paid off and Alex slipped on the gungy floor and fell down on his beefy ass. He picked himself up, gunge dripping from the legs of his singlet, and ran quickly but carefully over to his tank and once again emptied the slime from his singlet.

Coach blew his whistle to end the game. Breathless, Alex and Scott looked at each other. Both were dripping gunge, from their faces and all down their bodies. In contrast, Lucas and Alex were relatively clean, except for their legs and bare feet that had been stood in the pool of gunge.

"Okay guys, almost time to find out who's won, but before we do, I recognise that it wasn't easy to make sure you got all the gunge out of your singlets in that game. And Scott, it looks like there's still quite a bit of gunge left in yours. Let's help you out with that, and make sure you have all the gunge possible in your tank."

Coach placed his hand on the small of Scott's back, and guided him over to his team's tank. They stood on either side of it, facing one another, and Coach looked right into Scott's eyes. Then he pulled out the front of Scott's singlet, looked inside, and then looked back up at Scott and smiled. Scott's cock was ragingly hard, poking up through the green slime that filled the wrestler's singlet.

Coach reached a hand in and scooped out a handful of gunge, brushing the tip of Scott's cock as he did. The second and third times he reached in, he slid his hand down Scott's slippery shaft, making the jock gasp. By the fourth time, there wasn't much gunge left in the singlet, and Scott squirmed as the Coach felt around his big, heavy balls to retrieve the last drops of gunge. By now, Scott was sure his singlet must be empty, but Coach reached inside again. This time though, he wrapped his fingers around Scott's slimy cock, and jacked it, the gunge providing the lube for a slippery hand job.

Stunned, Scott gasped and looked breathlessly into the Coach's eyes just a few inches away. Coach just smiled back. After about ten seconds, he withdrew, flicking the last of the gunge off his hand into the tank. Scott glanced down. Without the pool of gunge covering it up, his hard-on was now clearly visible to everyone in the gymnasium through the tight, gungy singlet that was clinging to it. He had no choice though but to stand there while the crowd pointed and sniggered, snapping photos on their phones.

"Okay boys, now, let's see who's won. To do this, we'll be using these mechanisms that have been designed by students in the engineering department here at Storm Heights College."

While Coach had been giving Scott a helping hand, members of the soccer team had pushed in some kind of contraption with pulleys and gears, and were now fixing the two tanks of gunge to it.

"Those mechanisms are carefully fine-tuned, and they'll lift and tip the tanks at exactly the same speed. We'll set them both going at the same time they'll lift up the tanks of gunge, and tip out their contents. Because they'll be going at the same speed, the gunge that flows the longest will belong to the winning team."

Coach smiled to the audience. "Of course, it wouldn't be as fun if we just tipped the gunge on to the floor or back into the pool, would it?"

The soccer players turned the contraption around. There were two seats fixed to the back, behind the buckets.

"Lucas, Marc, you're far too clean. Go sit down."

The crowd cheered as Marc and Lucas walked over and took their seats, conscious of the big tanks of gunge behind them. Coach got the crowd to count down.

"TEN, NINE, EIGHT, SEVEN, SIX, FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE..."

And then Marc and Lucas heard the mechanism spring into action, and the tanks begin to tip.

Marc gasped as the gunge began to pour over him. It was cold, slimy and it felt like it would never end. He wanted to bolt from his seat, but he knew how much the Coach would disapprove of that, and so he sat there, powerless to do anything but endure the gunge flowing over him.

To his left, Lucas did the same, gripping the arms of the seat as slime poured slowly over him. The engineering students had done their job well, and the gunge hit the centre of his head and then ran evenly down his face, covering it in a thick sheen of slime, and then slid evenly down his singlet-clad body.

The crowd cheered as the two hunky jocks were covered in gunge, and just had to sit there and take it as it poured over their bodies. Finally, both tanks were looking empty... but it was the flow in Lucas and Scott's tank that ended first! Marc raised his hands in victory while the last of the gunge in his and Alex's tank continued to drip on to his head and down his face.

Grinning, Coach stepped to the front to sum up the result of the game not that the crowd needed any telling. Marc and Alex had won and scored two points, while Lucas and Scott scored one. The boys got up from their seats under the tanks, and all four of them dripped their way back to the locker room to prepare for the next game.