Our four jocks continue getting messy to raise money for their next competition - don't forget to read the previous chapter to discover just why two of the wrestlers have their hands cuffed behind their back, why Marc's waving a cummy jockstrap in Alex's face, and why Lucas is playing with his butt in the shower.

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Once the boys had left the gymnasium, the crowd starting chattering among themselves, showing each other the photos they'd taken and the videos they'd filmed during the previous game. While they did, Coach took the opportunity to duck out and head into his office. He wanted to see what the four wrestlers were getting up to in the locker room, and whether Marc would take his hint to have fun with Scott, Alex and the key.

He wasn't disappointed. He turned on his monitor just in time to see his hidden cameras capture the three boys arguing, Marc waving the key in their faces. With their hands still cuffed behind their backs, Scott and Alex were powerless to grab it from him, and Marc continued to taunt them by slipping the key down the front of his bulging jockstrap. Even on his computer screen, Coach could tell that Marc was still semi-hard, his cock straining against the sloppy fabric.

But where was Lucas? Coach pressed a button on his computer to cycle through the cameras in the locker room, until he got to the one that covered the shower area. And there was Lucas, cleaning off the last of the cream from the last game. Coach watched as Lucas looked around, making sure the other three boys were occupied in the main locker room.

Then Lucas reached a hand behind him, and ran a finger between his round, firm butt-cheeks and tenderly around his hole. Coach smiled and groped his hard cock through his shorts. Having the Coach's finger inside him and probing his insides had clearly been a new experience for Lucas, and one he'd evidently found rather more enjoyable than he might have expected. Coach would put money on Lucas exploring further on his own next time he was horny - which knowing these college-age jocks would probably be pretty soon. Coach would have to make sure Lucas got some private time in the locker-room showers - private, that is, except for the Coach's hidden cameras capturing every moment.

Lucas finished playing with his hole, turned off the shower, wrapped a towel around himself and wandered back into the locker room, where the other three wrestlers were standing around arguing, still in their jockstraps.

Marc held something out towards Lucas, which Lucas realised was the jockstrap he'd peeled off on entering the locker room and had left on the floor.

"Hey Lucas, didn't Coach say Alex had to get your jock completely cleaned up?"

"He sure did."

"Well, looks like he did a decent job on the outside... but look." At this, Marc showed Lucas the inside of his jockstrap, and the cum pooled there. Not that Lucas needed to look to know - he'd felt it against his slimy cock as he'd left the gymnasium.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Marc asked him with an evil grin.

"I think I am," Lucas responded. "Or... actually...

"Maybe Alex went through enough. I say if Scott gets my jockstrap properly cleaned up, and eats up the rest of my spunk, we release them both? What do you say?"

Watching, Coach grinned. This was even better than he could have imagined. These boys didn't need him to humiliate them, they were more than capable of doing it to each other.

He couldn't tear his eyes away as, on the monitor, Marc pushed the sticky, slimy jockstrap into Scott's face and, goaded by the other three, the hunky jock stuck out his tongue and licked hesitantly at his teammate's cum.

"Come on douchebag, if I can do it, you certainly can," Alex told him. Marc shoved the jockstrap more firmly into Scott's face, forcing him to lick up the rest of Lucas's cum. Scott shuddered at the slimy taste, and the other three laughed.

Suddenly, Marc ran out of the room. Hands cuffed behind their backs, Alex and Scott followed him. Coach jumped to his feet and quickly made his way out of his office, and back into the gymnasium, where the three boys had already arrived ahead of him. As he entered he was greeted by the sight of three pairs of buttocks perfectly framed by the straps of their jockstraps, which did nothing to help the state of his own cock, which was rock-hard and straining at the waistband of his briefs.

Coach walked over to the three wrestlers, every step causing his cock to rub against the fabric of his briefs. He'd been incredibly turned on watching Lucas play with his ass in the shower, and then Marc tormenting Scott, and had been lazily feeling himself up through his pie-splattered shorts, and Marc's sudden exit hadn't given him a chance to calm his libido before returning to the gymnasium.

Standing in front of the three jocks, he asked Marc what he was playing at.

"Well Coach, you put me in charge of the key to these guys' handcuffs, and I thought, rather than just unlock them, we could have a little fun with them first."

You've already been having your fun, Coach thought to himself, though he didn't speak his musings allowed. He couldn't have the wrestlers learning about his cameras. Instead, he asked Marc what he had in mind.

"I'm sure you have a couple more of those pies somewhere, right? Well, get one of them out here, put it on the floor, and have Scott and Alex find the key with their mouths."

Coach could barely contain a huge grin. Once again, he didn't even need to design ways to get these jocks messy, they were perfectly capable of doing that to themselves. He turned around to instruct the soccer players to find a nice, big, sloppy pie, only to find that they'd already taken it upon themselves to do just that, and Jack was approaching holding a huge, deep pie dripping with cream and custard. He put it on the floor in front of where Alex and Scott were standing, took the key from Marc and buried it deep in the pie.

"Alright boys, you know what to do. First to find the key wins, and gets unlocked. Loser... doesn't! Go!"

The crowd cheered as the two jocks dived to their knees, pushed their muscular asses high in the air and buried their faces in the pie.

Alex was desperate to find the key and get his hands unlocked. Without hesitation he pushed his face deep into the sloppy pie, feeling the sloppy, cold, thick mixture slide around his cheeks, up his nose and against his lips. He moved his head around, searching as best he could for the key, occasionally coming up for air and immediately diving back into the pie.

Each time he came up he was desperate to wipe the mess from his face, but of course he couldn't. Cream ran down his face and dripped on to his chest before he resumed his messy task.

"How you getting on, boys?" Coach asked as he circled around them. Of course, with their faces buried in the sloppy pie in front of them, Coach's question was purely rhetorical.

Walking behind Alex, he gave him a firm slap on his bare ass, causing the jock to jerk forward and bury his face even deeper into the pie. The crowd laughed and jeered. Alex sighed, resigned to his task, continuing to burrow through the pie in search of the key.

Next, Coach rounded the pie and stood behind Scott, who'd scooted around slightly so that his butt was less exposed to the watching crowd. Which would give Coach the perfect cover for what he was about to do next.

He stood to Scott's side with his back to the crowd. Scott's ass was blocked from the crowd's view. He placed his hand on Scott's bare ass, ostensibly in encouragement. Scott squirmed slightly at Coach's touch.

Then, slowly and slyly, Coach slipped his middle finger against Scott's sphincter. Scott immediately tried to squeeze his buttocks together, but with his legs spread for balance, he could give no resistance. Coach's finger slid deep inside.

His face buried in the pie, Scott wasn't even able to protest as Coach gave him a slow, long finger-fuck, twisting his finger inside the jock's horny butthole and doing all the things that he knew made an ass feel good. Scott could only squirm and desperately try to concentrate on finding the key in the depths of the sloppy pie while Coach enjoyed exploring the depths of his sloppy asshole.

Confident the crowd couldn't see, Coach also reached down and squeezed his own hard, throbbing cock through his shorts too. After four games of sliming these jocks and watching them compete to humiliate each other, his cock was pretty much ready to fill his tight briefs with a huge load of cum.

Coach's reverie was broken by Alex suddenly rising to his knees, key clenched victoriously in his teeth. He dropped it to the ground and then scuttled around, groping blindly for the key behind him. He finally found it, and, fumbling, unlocked the handcuffs. As they fell to the ground behind him, he leapt to his feet in victory, wiping pie from his face. And, Coach noticed with an evil grin, the last strings of Lucas's sticky cum.

Alex raised his arms in celebration and paraded in front of the crowd, still wearing nothing more than a slimy jockstrap. Meanwhile, Lucas approached from the corner of the gymnasium.

Lucas had been left behind when the other three had bolted to the gymnasium, and had taken the time to dry off and change into a pair of the speedos Coach had left out for them. He'd then grabbed the other three and brought them with him into the gymnasium, where he'd been greeted by the sight of Scott and Alex on their knees, their faces deep in a pie, and the Coach driving his finger deep into Scott's butt. His hole had twitched as he remembered how good that had felt in his own ass earlier.

Lucas had spotted some buckets of gunge in the corner of the gymnasium ready for the next game, and while the crowd, Coach, and his rivals were all occupied, he'd snuck over and dropped the other wrestlers' trunks into them, pushing them under the surface of three of the buckets. Coach had blown his whistle to end the game just as Lucas was wiping gunge off his hand on the butt of his own speedos, leaving a slimy green streak.

"Alex won that game by finding the key - no points for that though, sorry Alex!" Coach said. "Scott - you'll just have to stay like that for a while longer."

Scott's heart sank - but his cock didn't. His hands still cuffed behind his back, his cock was once again semi-hard in his sticky jockstrap. And all he'd achieved in the game was to earn himself another faceful of pie - which, once again, he couldn't wipe off. He just stood there in front of the crowd bulging out the pouch of his jockstrap and covered in pie.

"Lucas has already changed for the next game, so Alex, Marc, Scott, it's your turn. As you can see, you're wearing speedos for this next game. Originally, they were hanging up in the locker room, but now they're submerged somewhere in those buckets of gunge. And you have your buddy Lucas to thank for that. Now, go find them and put them on."

With that, Alex and Marc jogged over to the other side of the gymnasium, followed by Scott, waddling awkwardly with his hands still cuffed. Alex and Marc plunged their hands into each bucket of gunge, searching for their trunks. They both quickly found them and ran back over to where Coach was standing, where they joined the Coach and the crowd in laughing at Scott's predicament.

Hands secured behind his back, Scott didn't have it as easy as the other two. He had no choice but to get on his knees and plunge his head into each bucket of gunge in turn, searching for his speedos. And because Alex and Marc had found their trunks so fast, it meant that Scott would have to search more buckets to find his.

Scott took a deep breath and submerged his head into the first bucket of gunge. Moving it around quickly, he came to the conclusion that there was nothing in there, and surfaced, gunge streaming from his face. He scooted quickly to the side, and repeated the process, plunging his head deep into a bucket of bright green gunge.

No trunks in there either. Scott looked up, and through the gunge dripping down his face he saw Lucas, laughing at the side of the gymnasium. He fumed. Lucas didn't have to do what he did, he might have known Coach would make him do this, and they were supposed to be on the same team!

By now, the gunge dripping off Scott was making the floor slippery. He scooted the side, but as he did, he slipped, and knocked into one of the buckets, tipping it over. Gunge cascaded across the floor, to where Lucas was standing bare-footed.

The wrestler leapt out of the way, but as he did, he slipped on the gungy floor, and fell to the ground, and as he did, he caught his arm on another bucket of gunge and knocked it all over himself. He picked himself up, flicking gunge off himself. On his knees, Scott grinned to himself.

"Come on Scott, hurry up," Coach shouted from somewhere behind him. Obeying the instruction, Scott scooted to the side once again, slipping around on his knees on the gungy floor, and pushed his head deep into another bucket of gunge. To prevent himself slipping, he braced himself, with his legs wide and his butt high in the air.

Unknown to Scott, who was totally submerged in gunge, the crowd cheered. The position had had the unfortunate result of exposing Scott's butthole to them, at the sight of it winking at them, they went crazy. Phones were whipped out once again, photos were taken, and Coach's cock throbbed even harder inside his tight briefs.

Finally though, Scott had found the trunks! Grasping them in his teeth he pulled his head clear of the gunge, which continued to pour down his face and then, as he stumbled carefully to his feet, down his body too. He hobbled over to join the rest of the boys. Coach took his position again in front of the crowd.

"Right boys, well done. But since that took Scott so long, and since we're in a hurry, I'm afraid you'll have to get changed right here."

Both Alex and Marc opened their mouths to object, but Coach silenced them with a look. They realised there was nothing to it, and they pulled down their jockstraps, exposing their slimy cocks to the crowd. As quickly as they could, they pulled the gungy speedos up their powerful thighs, covering themselves before the crowd could take too many photos of them completely naked. Though clearly not quickly enough, judging by the reactions of the crowd looking at their phones.

Scott, meanwhile, was struggling. With his hands behind his back, he hadn't even managed to get his jockstrap down, let alone get his speedos on. Coach decided to take pity on him.

"Looks like you need a helping hand there Scott... Marc, help him out."

"Certainly Coach, happy to help." With a broad grin on his face, Marc swaggered over to Scott and plucked the slimy pair of speedos from his hand. Scott looked pleadingly over at Coach, who just looked dispassionately back with a smirk.

"Okay buddy, let's help you out of these," Marc said to Scott. He pushed the front of the jockstrap down, and took the opportunity to feel up Scott's slippery cock. Scott, who had just started to regain control after the Coach's luscious finger-fuck of his ass, bit his lip, feeling his cock helplessly harden once again. Marc took his time removing Scott's jockstrap, taking the opportunity to tease Scott's balls and feel up his cock once again, leaving Scott at full mast as he pulled the messy strap to the ground.

Marc then dropped the trunks he was holding and 'accidentally' kicked them away, taking his time to go and get them - leaving Scott completely exposed and rock hard in front of the crowd. And still dripping gunge.

Scott couldn't believe it. The moment seemed to last an eternity, the crowd whooping and jeering at his exposed, throbbing cock. He pulled fruitlessly on the handcuffs, desperate to cover himself, but it was no good. As gunge continued to drip from his handsome face, down his powerful chest towards his cock, he realised he'd never been so humiliated.

Finally, Marc returned and pulled the slippery, slimy speedos up Scott's thighs. He fumbled with Scott's hard cock, struggling to fit it inside the tight trunks. He spent rather longer than Scott thought necessary holding it, manipulating it, sliding his hand up and down it, trying to fit it inside. Scott's breath became ragged as his rival's slippery hand got him more and more turned on.

After what felt to Scott like an age, Marc pushed his slippery cock inside gungy speedos and got close up to Scott's ear. He whisperered: "there you go. I know you're enjoying this," as he gave Scott's cock one final squeeze for good measure and stepped away. Scott let out a quiet moan. Marc was right. As humiliated as he was, the gunge covering his cock and his rival's teasing meant that he was more turned on than ever.

Even through his horniness, Scott saw the look that passed between Marc and Coach as Marc stepped back into the line it was one of victory, and one of conspiracy. And Scott could tell he wasn't the only one who was enjoying this. Marc's cock was clearly hardening and filling out his own speedos too.

Adjusting himself through his own shorts, Coach addressed the wrestlers and the audience once more:

"Well boys, that was fun, wasn't it. And again, no points for all that effort, since that wasn't even part of today's games. You have your buddies to thank for all that.

"Okay, let's get on with the next game."

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This was originally going to be a brief interlude, but I had so much fun writing it that it became its own chapter. Don't worry, the next game is coming very soon, and the wrestlers will be getting very messy indeed.