The four wrestlers finished changing into fresh singlets once again and jogged back out to the field where the next game was ready for them. 'I can't believe Coach didn't think to tell us to bring spare jocks with us,' thought Marc to himself, as his junk bounced around in his singlet, plainly on show to anyone who cared to look.

They arrived where Coach had finished setting up the next game. All they could see were two stools, and in front of each of them, a set of stocks with holes cut out for feet. There was no gunge to be seen, though they all suspected there might be something hidden behind the wooden screen set up behind the stools.

"Welcome everyone, to the third game of today's fundraiser," Coach shouted into a microphone, and the crowds gathered round. "If you've been entertained by our four wrestlers today, please remember to drop some cash into the collection buckets around the field."

"The next game the boys will be playing is a little different. It's called 'Guess the Mess'".

Alex's heart sank. If it wasn't enough to be covered in gunge and slime, apparently there was going to be different mess too. Lucas was quite puzzled what other messes could there be?

"You're going to be in teams for this one," said Coach. "Team 1 will be Alex and Marc, and Team 2 will be Lucas and Scott."

As the guys got into their pairs, the Coach instructed them that one of each pair would be in the stocks for this game, and it was up to the boys to decide who that would be. After some brief bickering, it was agreed that Alex and Scott would be in the stocks. Lucas was relieved hopefully if he wasn't locked in the stocks, maybe this meant he'd be throwing the mess in this game instead of taking it.

Alex and Scott took their positions on the stools and placed their feet into the stocks, which were then closed and locked. Their shoes were then removed, which neither of them had been expecting, exposing their bare feet to the breeze. They wriggled their toes nervously as Coach explained the rules of the game.

"Okay guys, listen up. In this game, you'll have to guess the contents of five buckets of mess. Obviously seeing the mess would make it too easy, so you'll all need to be blindfolded." Coach passed out goggles to each of the guys, which had had their lenses blacked out, as well as a blackboard and chalk.

"The two of you on the stools, you'll be guessing the mess by feel. One by one, each of the buckets is going to be poured over your feet, and you'll have to write down on your blackboard what you think it is. For every one you guess correctly, you'll score a point.

"The other two, you'll be guessing by taste. Once the bucket's been poured over your teammate's feet, you'll need to lick it off and write down what you think you're tasting on your blackboard too. A correct guess scores you a point."

Marc's jaw dropped. Alex was his biggest rival in the college. He'd spent the last six months grappling with this guy, battling against his unearned arrogance. Alex was a cocky douche who took every opportunity to exert his superiority over other guys. And now he was going to be on his knees in front of him, licking god-knows-what off his big bare feet.

At Coach's instruction, he put the goggles on, pulling them down over his eyes. The world went completely black, he couldn't see a thing, and stumbled slightly, a bit disoriented. He felt a hand on his shoulder, pushing him to his knees in front of Alex's feet. He groaned. He had no choice, he couldn't back out now.

The crowd cheered they were ready for this! "Bring out the first buckets," shouted Coach. He'd once again enlisted the help of a few members of the soccer team for this game, two of whom appeared from behind the back wall with a bucket in each hand. At the Coach's command, they slowly poured the contents of the first buckets over the feet of Alex and Scott.

Alex gasped whatever was in the buckets was cold. But it was slippery and sticky, with lots of little lumps in that he could feel between his toes. He was confident he knew what this was! He grabbed his blackboard and chalk, and wrote down 'baked beans', and smiled in relief.

"And now it's our tasters' turn!" Marc heard Coach shout, as he was guided on his hands and knees towards Alex's size 12 feet. He tentatively stuck out his tongue and made contact with Alex's bare sole. Immediately he tasted the sweet taste of tomato sauce, and several beans slid into his mouth as they rolled down Alex's foot. He spat them out in disgust, but quickly grabbed his blackboard and wrote down his answer and held it up.

As all four boys finished writing their answers, Coach looked over them and announced the results to the crowd. "Three of our four contestants got that one right, which means a point each for Alex, Marc and Lucas, and unfortunately no points this round for Scott.

"Oh, and I realise now, boys, that I forgot to mention that wrong answers, as well as getting you no points, also carry a forfeit. Any of the substances you guess incorrectly will be going over your head!"

The crowd cheered and Scott protested as he heard the other three guys laughing around him. Then the soccer players picked up the two buckets that still had plenty of beans in them, and, one after the other, poured their contents slowly over Scott's head.

The crowd cheered as the hunky wrestler was covered in beans. Scott groaned in disgust as he felt the slimy, sticky mess slide down his hair, his face and down his body, all over his tight-fitting singlet and dripping slowly to the ground. He didn't have time to dwell on it though, as he heard Coach ordering the next buckets to be brought out.

"And, pour!" Alex and Scott squirmed as the next substance hit their feet. It was thicker than the beans, and they wiggled their toes to try and feel what it might be. At once, Marc and Lucas's faces were again pushed into their feet, and they licked at whatever the mess was, to try and identify it.

Marc took a few long licks up Alex's feet, and tried to think what it could be. There were a few things, but he had a good idea. He wrote down 'custard' on his board. In contrast, Lucas was struggling. Scott's feet were still covered in the tomato sauce from the beans, and he couldn't separate the tastes. He was licking all around Scott's bare foot to try and get a good taste, as the ticklish Scott squirmed in the stocks, unable to pull his feet away from Lucas's tormenting tongue. Lucas wrote down a guess on his blackboard, but he was sure he was wrong.

Sure enough, Coach confirmed that only Marc had got the answer right. And sure enough, the other three had to sit there as the remainder of the custard in the buckets was poured all over them.

There was no let up though, as Coach called for the next buckets to be poured over Alex and Scott's feet. Scott tried desperately to concentrate as whatever it was fell over his feet, slid between his toes and down his soles. It was something slightly grainy, that much he was sure, it was different from the smooth, slippery custard from the last bucket that was still running down his toned body. He grabbed his blackboard and wrote 'porridge'. He squirmed as Lucas's tongue dug between his toes to try and identify whatever it was by taste, and then held his breath as he waited for Coach to reveal the answer.

"I can see we have a difference of opinion. Alex, Marc and Lucas have all said it's rice pudding, while Scott thinks it's porridge." Scott's heart sank. There was no way the other three could all have got it wrong, surely especially as Marc and Lucas had tasted it.

"And the answer is... rice pudding! And you know what that mean!" The crowd cheered. They knew what that meant, and so did Scott. He sat with his head held high, waiting for his punishment. To crank up the tension, and to disorientate Scott even more, who couldn't see anything through his goggles and had no idea when two nearly full buckets of lukewarm rice pudding would be hitting him, Coach motioned to the grinning soccer players to wait. The crowd gradually went silent, and the proud, handsome jock sat there, confused, dripping custard and beans, confused and wondering what was going on. He got his answer soon enough, as an endless stream of disgusting, lumpy pudding hit him from above, combining with the mess already covering his singlet.

The sloppy stream seemed to go on forever, and once it finally stopped, all Scott could do was sit there, completely humiliated and completely covered in layers of beans, custard and rice pudding, all of it mixing together, drying and sticking over his body. His humiliation was compounded by the cheering of the crowd, who loved seeing this cocky jock completely trashed, his singlet plastered to his body under all that mess, and the laughter of the two soccer players he could hear just above him, who were enjoying this chance to get one over on their sporting rivals.

Even worse though, he knew there was one more bucket to try and identify, and his bare feet were already covered in beans, custard and rice pudding. And even worse, he was in last place, with no points. Again. After getting covered in gunge in the last game and still coming last there, it looked like he might be last for the second game in a row. But the Coach had something to say that could be music to his ears.

"Listen up guys, it's time for the final bucket, but before that, let's take a look at the scores. Alex has 2 points, Marc has 3 points, Lucas has 2 points and Scott has no points at all. And because this is a team game, that means Alex and Marc have 5 points, while Lucas and Scott have just 2 points.

"The last bucket is the Super Bucket it's twice as big and has two different messes in there and you need to get both of them right to score the point. And Lucas, I have a special offer for you. Since you and Scott are three points behind, you wouldn't be able to win even if you both got it right so I'm going to give you the chance to score double points if you get it right. However, there's an extra special forfeit just for you if either you or Scott get it wrong."

"What's the forfeit?" asked Lucas.

"You'll find that out if you lose," responded the Coach.

"You need to go for it dude,", said Scott. "We're so far behind we'll lose anyway if you don't, and I've not got covered in all this crap just to lose again."

"Do it, do it, do it!" the crowd chanted behind Lucas.

"What's your decision, Lucas?", demanded the Coach.

After a slight pause, Lucas responded "I'll take the deal Coach, we need those points."

The audience cheered and the Coach grinned not that the boys could see that with their blacked-out goggles on.

"Without further ado, let's bring out the Super Buckets!"

The crowd cheered as the soccer players struggled out carrying heavy buckets, filled to the brim with some disgusting, sloppy substance that even the crowd couldn't identify. Whoever had put the two messes in the buckets had mixed them up well. Surely the boys didn't stand a chance of telling them apart.

Lucas heard the buckets tip, and the mess gradually drip and then fall more quickly down over Scott's feet in front of him, and Alex's just a few meters to his right. Figuring it was now or never, he reached his head forward and licked at Scott's bare sole. 'Oh god, this is rank', he thought to himself. Whatever the mixture was, it didn't exactly combine into a nice taste, and mixed in with the remnants of beans, custard and rice pudding on Scott's feet, it was completely gross. One thing he knew for sure though was that he didn't want a massive bucket of this poured over his head.

One of the tastes in there was mushy peas, he was sure. He could taste the sharpness, and feel the lumps on his tongue. But what else was there? It was something sweet, that was for sure, but he couldn't taste it through the custard that was still covering Scott's feet.

And then he realised. It was custard. The Coach had used custard a second time to try and trick them. But he wasn't falling for it. He grabbed his board, wrote 'mushy peas and custard' and sat back, happy the double points were in the bag and the forfeit was avoided!

To his right, Marc was still licking at Alex's feet, trying to get rid of the layer of custard from the last bucket to get at whatever had been in the final bucket. He moaned at the thought of how humiliating this was he knew his rival would take every opportunity to crow about the time Marc had been forced to lick all this gross slop off his feet in front of a huge crowd, for many weeks to come. Eventually, Marc figured he had an answer and wrote it on his board.

"Okay guys, let's see how you've done," said the Coach. Lucas grinned. He'd been able to hear Marc continuing to lick at Alex's feet well after he was done, and he bet Marc hadn't figured out the Coach's trick with the custard.

"Okay, Marc, you've written mushy peas and cream." Lucas held his breath. Maybe it was cream. If Marc was right, then that meant he was wrong and he was getting that forfeit. "Mushy peas... is correct!" There were some cheers. "But I'm afraid cream is wrong." Lucas exhaled.

"Now Alex." The Coach just laughed. "The board's just blank. No idea? Well, that's the game, no points for you, and that leaves Alex and Marc on 5 points. Which means if Lucas and Scott have both got it right, they will win this game!"

Lucas was even more confident now, as Coach came over and picked up his board.

"We already know mushy peas is right, of course, so that means if the second ingredient in the Super Bucket was custard, then Lucas will be correct and score 2 points. And I can reveal..."

Lucas held his breath.

"It was custard!"

Lucas cheered. He'd done it! Two points, and he'd dodged the Coach's forfeit.

"And finally, Scott." The Coach laughed as he went over to Scott. "Scott, man, you really haven't had a good game, have you? If you could only see yourself, you are absolutely covered."

Scott didn't need to be able to see himself. He could feel how disgusting all the mess felt against his body.

"Remember, the correct answer is mushy peas and custard. And Scott has written on his board... slime and rice pudding! Not even close. So that's no points for Scott."

"So let's look at the final scores. Alex still has 2 points, Marc has 3 points, Lucas moves up to 4 points and Scott, poor Scott, still has no points. That means our solo winner is Lucas!"

Lucas cheered. Yes, he'd finally done it!

"But remember, this is a team game, and you win and lose as a team. And that means that while Lucas and Scott have 4 points now, Alex and Marc still have 5, which means they are our winners!"

Lucas couldn't believe it. He'd won the game, he'd done the best out of all of them, he'd even taken a risk of an additional forfeit to win, and he'd still lost.

"Of course, before we conclude, there's still the matter of the final forfeits to take care of. Three of you got that last bucket wrong, so you'll be getting the contents of the buckets over you in a moment, but first there's the question of Lucas's forfeit for..."

"But I got it right," Lucas interrupted.

"Ah, but clearly you weren't listening properly. I said that to avoid the forfeit, both members of your team needed to get the correct answer. You may have got it right, and scored the double points, but Scott didn't and in this game, you win as a team and lose as a team, and on that bucket, you lost. So it's forfeit time.

"For your forfeit, you're going to clean up Scott's feet. I want them completely cleaned up of all that mess. Oh, and you'll be using only your tongue of course."

Lucas couldn't believe it. He'd already tasted everything that was on Scott's feet, and he knew this wasn't going to be pleasant.

"And just to make sure you only use your tongue..." Coach tailed off, and Lucas wondered what he was going to say and then he felt both his arms grabbed roughly by one of the soccer players, and his wrists handcuffed behind his back.

"There, that's perfect. Get started."

Lucas leaned forward as the crowd cheered. He found Scott's foot with his tongue, and began licking along the sole, up and down, around the heel and around the sides After four buckets, Scott's feet were covered in mess which has started to stick and dry, so this was going to take some real tongue work.

As he scrubbed with his tongue, Lucas heard the crowd's cheers grow, and heard the whooping of some of the other sports teams, and the clicking of phone cameras. Suddenly, he realised why. In this position, leaning forward with his head down, knees wide for balance and butt high in the air, his ass was spread wide in the lycra singlet, displayed to everyone watching. What was worse, without a jockstrap under the singlet, he knew that his big cock and plum-sized balls were hanging down, evident to the whole crowd through the thin spandex. Handcuffed, ass in the air, goods on show, and licking his rival's feet in front of a crowd of hundreds of his friends and peers he'd never felt so humiliated in his life.

And Scott wasn't helping either. He was very ticklish, and Lucas's tongue work had set him off squirming, with the result that the mess was going half over Lucas's face as well as his tongue. He was about halfway done, when he heard the Coach command the soccer players to give the other three wrestlers their forfeit, and he realised that at least he was avoiding the forfeit the other three would be getting an enormous bucket full of sloppy, slimy mushy peas and custard.

But he hadn't banked on how mean the Coach was feeling. Unknown to the boys, he motioned to the soccer players, who'd poured around half the bucket over Scott's head and down over his shoulders and torso, that perhaps they could mess up more of Scott's body... specifically his legs and feet. The soccer players got the message immediately, and suddenly Lucas felt the disgusting mixture splattering down on the feet right in front of him, then over his head and down his face. He tried to jerk his head back, but one of the soccer players held him still, forcing him to take the slop running down his face until finally they withdrew the bucket to pour the last of the disgusting mess down the front of Scott's singlet.

"How are you getting on there, boy?" asked Coach. "Looks like those feet are even messier than before you started. You'd better get a move on, we don't have all day."

Lucas moaned in humiliation as the crowd behind him laughed and he re-doubled his efforts, running his tongue up and down his buddy's feet, even in between his toes. It was disgusting, and as he heard the click of another phone camera, he just wanted it to be over.

"Hey Coach," he heard Alex shout. "Can this loser clean my feet too?"

"That's an excellent idea Alex," responded the Coach. Lucas cursed the cocky, arrogant jock as he crawled over on his knees and repeated the process on Alex's big feet. Unfortunately for him, Alex had decided to have a bit of fun now the game itself was over, and delighted in pushing his feet into Lucas's face, rubbing more remnants of the buckets' sloppy contents all over him. And with his hands cuffed behind his back, Lucas had no way of wiping it off, and no way of resisting.

Finally, it was over. The Coach came over and declared that Alex's feet were finally clean. Scott and Alex were released from the stocks, and all four boys were allowed to remove their goggles. They blinked as they re-accustomed to the bright lights, and then looked at each other and down at their own bodies.

They were all totally trashed. Singlets plastered against their bodies, beans, custard, and rice pudding drying against their muscular chests and arms, and that gruesome mixturesof mushy peas and custard still slowly running down them. Scott had got it worst, all four buckets had gone over him, including some very full ones when the others had got their questions right. And he could feel the last of the contents of that final bucket sliding down inside his singlet and around his cock and balls too.

The Coach finally let them go and they squelched off to the showers, followed by the laughs of the crowd, to shower, clean up, and get ready for the next game.