This part of the story follows directly on from the previous chapter.

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"Right, let's get on with the next game and give you chance to earn some points. And you'll be needing them, as we have a very fun forfeit planned for the losers today."

The crowd laughed. They knew the forfeit was going to be rather more fun for them than it was for the losers.

"The next game is called 'Don't Flinch'. The rules are as follows. You'll get gunge thrown at you, pied, covered in mess... and you Must Not Move. No raising your arms, no dodging, no wiping it away, not even any flinching.

"Any move, and that's a penalty point against you. Team with the most penalty points at the end of the game loses. Understood?"

They did. The four of them moved into position in a line in front of the audience, a few feet apart, hands clasped lightly behind their backs.

Coach looked at them and grinned to himself. He loved this game. Four hunky guys standing there in their speedos, all of them about to get totally trashed, with no choice but to stand there and take it. They'd be stood there in front of the crowd, covered in mess, with absolutely no opportunity to wipe it off.

If they wanted to win, they had to get messy.

Coach blew his whistle to start the game and all four boys braced themselves. A bucket of gunge hit them in the face. Next, they each got a bucket thrown from behind, covering their backs and their butts in gunge.

They all stood there, not moving, dripping gunge.

Coach grinned to himself. All four were already covered in gunge and the game was only just starting. Gunge dripped slowly down their bodies, highlighting every bulging muscle, showing off their strong pecs and making their abs shine.

Coach signalled for the soccer players to grab another bucket of gunge each, which they did. Standing closer this time, they all swung the buckets backwards and let the gunge loose into the wrestlers' faces. Try as he might, Alex couldn't resist turning away, and the gunge hit the side of his face.

"Alex, we saw that, that's one penalty point for you. And just to make it a bit more fun, let's add to the penalty - each time you move, not only will you get a penalty point, you'll also get another bucket of gunge poured over you."

No sooner had Coach finished speaking than Alex felt gunge hit him from above. A full bucket of thick, lumpy green gunge poured over his head, sliding down his face, dripping down his chest, bulging trunks and to the floor. He knew better than to try and wipe any of it off.

Next, the boys got a smaller bucket of gunge each down the back of their speedos, which pooled down their cracks, followed by another down the front. Scott bit his lip - he'd barely managed to control his cock after the attention Marc had cruelly given it while pulling his speedos up, and now it was swimming in gunge again.

All four boys stood before the crowd with trunks full of gunge, when Coach blew his whistle again.

"Scott, Lucas, you both flinched then. A penalty point for both of you, and you know what else it means..."

They did, of course. They braced themselves as a cold bucket of green gunge hit their heads and ran down their shoulders. The crowd cheered, and Coach grinned.

Actually, neither of the boys had moved - they were doing surprisingly well. But as always, Coach was less concerned with making sure the game was fair than making sure it was messy.

Next, the soccer players each grabbed a pie. They held them just in front of the wrestlers' faces, all of which were dripping gunge, and, on Coach's command, they drew their arms back and shoved the pies forward...

...and stopped just in front of the wrestlers's faces. Of course, all four flinched, instinctively drawing back.

Coach laughed. All four boys were getting a penalty point, which meant it would make no difference to the game - but they'd be getting even messier. On Coach's command, the soccer players poured another bucket of gunge over each wrestler, who just had to stand there and take it.

Stepping back, they then picked up the pies again and shoved them into the wrestler's faces. The crowd cheered as cream sprayed everywhere and the jocks' hunky faces were totally covered in cream and slimy custard, as well as bits of pie crust that stuck to their faces.

Coach could tell that all of them were just aching to wipe the sloppy mess off their faces - but none of them wanted to risk another penalty point. All they could do was stand there in their speedos and drip.

Looking at the crowd and at Coach through the pie covering his face, Scott felt his cock swelling in his speedos. The feeling of the slippery, slimy gunge sliding around his cock was turning him on so much, he just couldn't resist, however much he tried to control himself.

And he knew that if he moved his hands to cover his modesty, it would be another penalty.

His situation wasn't helped by Coach opting to make the next round another bucket of gunge down the front of their trunks. He was unable to prevent himself letting out a gasp, and as he met Coach's eye, he knew he'd noticed.

"That's another penalty point for Scott, I'm afraid. And this time, let's make the penalty fit the crime. Danny," here Coach indicated to the soccer player who'd been doling out Scott's mess, "another bucket down the front of Scott's trunks, I think."

Scott moaned quietly as Danny walked over to him, pulled out the front of his speedos, and let another bucket of gunge pour down inside them. This bucket was orange, lumpier and slimier than the last, and he could feel it coating his hard cock and sliding around his balls. Finally, Danny stopped pouring, and let the waistband snap back. He winked at Scott.

Scott stood there trying desperately to regain control. All four wrestlers had trunks full of gunge now, which were sagging down in front of them and threatening to betray their modesty.

"Okay guys, I'm going to help you out a little, before we continue," Coach laughed. He then made his way along the line, pushing his hand into the front of each wrestler's trunks, squeezing out the gunge, which spilled over the top of their waistbands and down the front, dripping down their muscular thighs.

Finally, he approached Scott, at the end of the line. He looked him in the eye and grinned. Then he placed his hand on the front of Scott's bulging trunks, and pushed.

Scott gasped as cold gunge spilled over his waistband and forced its way through the leg-holes of the trunks. As the gunge emptied, Coach continued to push and squeeze until his hand was pressing against Scott's cock through the lycra.

Scott's ragingly hard cock.

Coach smiled.

"Thought so," he said, quietly so that only Scott could hear. "And there was a lot of slime in these trunks, Scotty, this might take a while."

He continued to press, pushing his hand against Scott's cock, squeezing it, running his hand up and down, up and down, until all the gunge was finally forced out. And Scott was left whimpering and gasping, his cock clearly displayed through the gungy speedos, now clinging to his crotch.

"Right," Coach said, grinning as he walked away, wiping his gungy hand on the rear of his shorts. "Let's continue. Grab another pie, guys."

The soccer players took another pie each, and quickly slammed them into the wrestlers' faces. Following that, they picked up another bucket, swung them backwards and let the contents fly into the wrestlers' faces.

They'd expected another load of gunge to hit them in the face. But this time, there was a different substance in each bucket. On the end, Lucas took a faceful of cold, lumpy porridge. The bucket flying at Marc contained mushy peas, Alex's bucket was full of baked beans and Scott was hit in the face with cold, slimy spaghetti. None of them could resist moving backwards or jerking away, so Coach had the soccer players add a bucket of gunge over them all for good measure.

By now, all four guys were completely covered in mess. Gunge, bits of pie and the gross food mess combined on their bodies, sticking to them, sliding slowly down their faces and their torsos. Lucas was doing his best not to shudder at all as the porridge slid down his body, while Alex felt beans slip slowly down into this trunks. Meanwhile, Scott looked ridiculous, with spaghetti draped over his nose, his ears and in his hair. The crowd snapped photos of the four humiliated jocks, who could do nothing more than stand there and pose for the cameras.

After giving the crowd time to take their photos, the soccer players each picked up another pie, all of which had been made as tall as possible with squirty cream. Before they unleashed them on the wrestlers though, Coach called all four of them over, and whispered some instructions. Try as they might, the wrestlers couldn't hear what was being said.

On their return, the soccer players lined up and, on Coach's command, shoved them into the wrestlers' crotches. This time though, they didn't immediately let go.

They held the pies there, and moved them around, rubbing the slippery, slimy cream into the front of the wrestlers' trunks.

Those were the instructions Coach had given them. He'd also told them that whoever managed to get his guy hard in the process would get a bonus at the end of the day. Of course, the soccer players were only too happy to oblige - any opportunity to further humiliate the cocky wrestling squad.

Beneath Danny's hand, Scott squirmed. The few seconds of respite he'd got hadn't been enough for him to get control of his erection, and now he was rock hard once again, breathing heavily as Danny rubbed cream into the front of his trunks.

Suddenly, he heard a deep moan immediately to his right.

He decided to take a risk, and look across. To his surprise, Marc was squirming too, and struggling to contain his moans as Jack rubbed and squeezed his bulging speedos.

Marc was clearly hard in his trunks too.

Coach blew his whistle and the soccer players withdrew. The four wrestlers were left standing in front of the audience, covered with gunge and with trunks covered in slimy, sloppy cream - and Marc and Scott both breathing heavily.

"Scott and Marc, you both moved quite a bit there - that's a penalty point for both of you. Jack, Danny... another pie please."

For the first time in his life, Scott prayed for a pie in the face.

But the two soccer players picked up a pie each, walked over, and pied the wrestlers' crotches.

Scott's eyes widened as he felt himself getting even hornier, a situation made worse when Danny pulled down the front of his trunks and pushed cream inside them.

He was just about to lose control when Coach blew his whistle. Danny let the waistband of the trunks snap back, and cream sloshed around inside.

Scott took deep breaths - but what Coach said next was music to his ears.

"And that's the end of that game! Let's tot up the scores..."

Scott didn't hear anything else Coach said. He was too relieved that the game was finally over.

In just a couple of moments he could run into the locker room, try and get into the showers in front of the other guys, and get himself off. He knew it would only take a few strokes of his hand to have him shooting his cum.

Smiling in relief, he waited for Coach to finish talking and dismiss them.

"...and that means the winners of this game, with the fewest penalty points, are Marc and Alex. Two points for you, and just one for the runners up, Scott and Lucas. Sorry boys, but you lost."

Scott didn't care. He was too busy preparing his escape from the gymnasium and the eyes of the audience to somewhere he could shoot his load in private.

"However..."

Scott looked up. What now?

"We do however still have a couple of pies and some gunge left. So, what do you say, a punishment for our worst performing contestant?"

The crowd cheered. Scott's heart sank. Just when he was ready to get out of here, there was another punishment to come.

And despite not having paid attention when Coach was totting up the scores, he knew he'd performed worst.

His fears were confirmed when Coach announced his name, then grabbed one of the remaining buckets. He walked over to Scott and slowly poured green, slimy gunge over his head, which then slid slowly down his body, merging with the rest of the gunge and pie mess stuck to Scott's body.

Coach then pulled out the front of Scott's trunks and allowed the gunge to flow inside. Scott squirmed as the warm, slippery gunge surrounded his pulsing cock and his heavy balls.

With the bucket emptied, Coach stepped back and motioned to Marc. "And as a reward for withstanding all those gungings without hardly moving once, we'll be letting our winner help dish out the punishment.

"Marc - come and take the pies. And do what you want with them."

A gunge-covered Marc swaggered over to the table and picked up the pies. He met Coach's eye, and grinned and nodded. He knew exactly what Coach wanted him to do.

Grinning cockily, he advanced on Scott. He stood in front of him and looked down where, despite the slimy pie mess all over the front of his trunks, Scott's horniness was plain, his hard cock throbbing.

"Fuck, you're loving this, aren't you," Marc said quietly.

With that, he slammed one of the pies into Scott's face, and simultaneously pushed the other into his crotch. He held them both there, and rubbed them in.

Scott gasped, getting a mouthful of pie.

Marc pushed the other pie against Scott's crotch, rubbing it against his gunge-filled trunks and his hard, throbbing cock. He slowly moved his hand up and down, never letting up the pressure, paying particular attention to the pulsing head of Scott's cock while also giving his full, heavy balls a gentle feel.

Scott moaned into the pie pressed into his face. The sensations running through his cock were amazing. He'd never felt so good, waves of pure pleasure pulsed through his body.

Marc continued to rub the pie into Scott's crotch, using every opportunity to grope him, squeeze his cock and jack him off ever so slowly through his slimy speedos. Scott knew he was getting closer and closer to losing control, but he was powerless to resist.

All he could do was moan into the pie smothering his face, and listen to the cheers of the crowd around him enjoying his humiliating punishment.

"You're loving this, aren't you," Marc taunted him. "You're getting off on getting messy, and getting humiliated like this in front of a crowd."

Scott moaned in protest. But Marc was totally right. The cheers of the crowd, coupled with the manipulations of Marc's fingers and the slime in his speedos were driving him closer and closer to orgasm.

Unbeknownst to Scott, Coach was standing behind the two of them, holding a big, slimy bucket of cold green gunge. He was watching closely.

It was obvious to him that Scott wasn't the only one enjoying this. Marc's erection was clearly displayed through his shiny, cream-soaked speedos, straining against the waistband. The hunky jock was evidently getting off on humiliating his rival.

"Ohhh, fuck, fuck, please Marc, stop," Scott tried to beg through the pie that covered his face.

Marc had no intention of stopping.

He looked Coach in the eye, grinned, and gave Scott's cock one more sloppy squeeze.

That was it. That was what finally drove Scott over the edge.

"OHHHHHHH"

Scott let out a loud moan, roaring into the pie pressed into his face. Cum pumped out of his cock as a torrent of gunge suddenly hit him from above.

Once again, Coach had timed it exactly right, pouring a huge bucket of gunge over Scott at the exact moment Marc had brought him over the edge.

As gunge poured down on him, and Marc continued to rub the sloppy, messy pie into his face and squeeze his cock, Scott filled his speedos with ropes of slimy cum.

Finally, panting, he came down off his high. His legs buckled beneath him. He slipped to the floor where he sat in a pool of gunge and mess.

Marc stepped away, openly groping his own hard cock through his slimy, messy speedos. Coach grinned, surreptitiously giving his own cock a squeeze through his shorts, then took his position in front of the audience.

"That's the end of that game, everyone. If you enjoyed that anywhere near as much as Scott did, please donate in the buckets around the gym. And guys, go get changed, I'll see you back here soon."

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I hope you're enjoying these stories as much as Scott is. Send me a message to let me know, it's always nice to get feedback, and feel free to let me have your ideas of what diabolical game Coach can set up for his team next. Is Lucas getting off too lightly? Should Scott get more humiliation? Or should the tables get turned on Marc? Let me know what you think!