On the night of the boys' performance, Spike arrived at the nightclub early.

He was determined to leave nothing to chance.

Fun though the past four weeks had been, he'd now come back to the real world.

The bottom line, he thought (without noticing the pun he'd made), was that he was absolutely set on beating the rest of us in the Inter-Crew Cock Contest.

And that meant that he'd have to score with one of the jocks tonight.

As he sat in the nightclub's dingy dressing room that probably hadn't seen a lick of paint since Glenn Miller's pre-war tour of the state, Spike allowed himself a self-satisfied smirk.

The rehearsals over the last weeks had gone far better than he'd ever suspected they would.

The four jocks, after their initial hesitation, had entered enthusiastically into the spirit of Spike's scheme. But that wasn't, he guessed, just because they were keen to raise funds for the football team. He suspected that the real incentive was all the "wet pussy" that he'd convinced them would be queuing up for them at the stage door after the show.

The boys had quickly got used to their tiger outfits, as well as losing all their initial inhibitions about the posing pouches and - even more - the tiger tails held securely in place by Mr Hung's butt plugs.

In fact, they'd even invented a game among themselves. The winner was the boy whose plug made the loudest popping noise as it was pulled out of his asshole at the end of every rehearsal.

Just as Spike had anticipated, the game's regular winner was Kenny Taylor who, right from his first attempt, seemed to have no difficulty whatever in either inserting or extracting his "Big Black Bobby Butt Buddy" (another of the BBB range's best sellers, according to Mr Hung).

For that very reason, Spike had made sure that Kenny had been the one handed the BBB dildo for his prop.

He was gratified to notice that, while Troy, Gary and Billy had looked mightily relieved to have been spared the special edition latex replica of Bobby's humungous appendage, Kenny's eyes had veritably glistened as Spike had handed the monster over to him.

Moreover, during subsequent rehearsals Kenny's aptitude for, and dexterity with, his new toy had impressed Spike no end. Indeed, he suspected that Kenny was putting in lots of extra practice with it after hours in the privacy of his own bedroom (which, Spike recalled now that he thought about it, was painted a suspiciously girly shade of lilac too).

Spike had now pretty much fixed on Kenny as the jock he intended as his target if he was going to win the contest with us other Crew members.

So when the boys turned up at the club on the night of their first public performance, he was ready to put his plan into action.

But first he had to deal with a little local difficulty.

In fact, it was almost a mutiny.

"Hey, man", said Troy.

"Ain't there somethin' real wrong here?"

"Like, we just come in through the front door of this place and the sign says Men only.

"I thought you promised us an audience full of hot chicks?"

Spike gulped. While he'd carefully edited some of the notices in the nightclub's foyer, he'd clearly not been quite thorough enough.

"No problem, Troy", he mumbled, thinking on his feet as he spoke.

" The sign don't mean that it's only men allowed in the audience.

"It's to let the babes know that there's only men performing on stage tonight.

"After all, they ain't gonna come through them doors if they think they're gone see other girls.

"They sure ain't dykes, you know!"

With the boys reassured, Spike turned his attention to other matters. The large dressing room would, he explained, only accommodate three of the jocks - Troy, Gary and Billy - so Kenny Taylor would have to use a smaller room down the hall.

He left the boys changing. But after fifteen minutes or so he entered the small dressing room.

"Hi Kenny", he said.

"I just wanted a quick word with you about part of the act.

"I'm worried about the jungle number and the way you're holding that thing."

Spike pointed to the BBB dildo.

"It just doesn't look right. I thought we could just go through that bit together."

With that, Spike pressed a button on a cassette player he'd previously left in the room and, as he did so, Eye of the Tiger boomed out once again.

At Spike's direction, Kenny began his routine, raunchily thrusting his hips back and forth in time to the music.

Spike faced him with the enormous replica of Big Black Bobby's dick held aloft in his hand.

"Now", said Spike, "as I told you before, Kenny, the way to turn the babes on is to be, like, suggestive, man.

"You just can't show them your dick for real - that comes after the show if you're lucky! So you got suggest it instead, using this thing.

"You've got push it all over your body, real sexy - and then you'll get their juices really flowing, man."

Spike felt pretty pleased. He was even managing to convince himself that he knew how to turn girls on and "get their juices flowing", though in reality, of course, the thought had never once crossed his mind in all his 19 years.

And at that point, with Kenny dancing away in front of him in his tiger outfit and with a butt plug wedged right up his ass, Spike began rubbing the BBB dildo all over Kenny's muscular young body, paying particular attention, needless to say, to his crotch and ass.

Inevitably, in just a few minutes Kenny began sprouting the most enormous erection, which rapidly threatened to burst right out of his floral-design pouch that had once served as a duvet cover.

Spike, however, appeared not to notice.

"OK, Kenny", he said. "That's how you got do it. I hope that helps. You're on stage in less than five minutes now. Good luck."

And with that Spike turned his back as though he was leaving the room.

"Hey, Spike" called out Kenny, with a real note of panic in his voice. "I can't go on looking like this."

He gestured down at his pouch, which was by now completely failing to keep all his bits and pieces securely in place.

"What can I do? You gotta help me, Spike."

Spike tried to look as seriously displeased - yet as responsible - as possible.

"Hell, Kenny. What've you gone and done that for? You can't go on looking like that. You gotta jerk yourself off, man. It's OK, just go ahead. You've got four minutes left. I'll get outa here while you do it."

And with that, Spike once more turned towards the door.

"Spike!", wailed Kenny.

"I can't do it. Look!"

Kenny held up his hands. They were, of course, as Spike had planned all along, securely trussed up in the oven gloves that the boys were wearing as tigers' paws. There was no way that Kenny could unlace his "paws", jerk himself off and then get them back on in time.

Spike took a step back.

"Well, then Kenny, there's only one thing I can suggest. But you gotta realise that if I help you out here - like, man to man - then you never can tell anyone about it.

"God, people will think we're queers or somethin' if they find out."

The look of combined desperation, pleading and gratitude on Kenny's face told Spike that he was home and dry. Turning away for a moment he locked the dressing room door and, without Kenny seeing, licked his lips in anticipation.

He turned back and moved towards his "tiger".

"But you gotta remember this, Kenny, I'm only doing this 'cos we're desperate and as a favour.

"And you better keep it just between us… Just between us…"

And with those words, Spike pulled aside the thin layer of duvet cover that was, in fact, the only thing just between his mouth and Kenny's throbbing dick and got down to work…

A few minutes later, Spike and a somewhat breathless and red-faced Kenny joined the other guys in the wings alongside the nightclub's small stage.

The previous act had been a particularly hot looking girl with big hair and huge boobs that she kept thrusting out at the auditorium. Troy, Gary and Billy had been transfixed by her and, as a result, their pouches were, Spike observed, in a particularly promising state.

As the lights went down, the "tigers" trooped into position on the stage, waiting for the introductory bars of music.

It was unfortunate for them that, in the darkness, they couldn't see that, just offstage in the wings, the "hot girl" was removing her elaborate wig to reveal a totally cropped scalp underneath.

At the same time she removed an outsize pair of falsies from her chest.

As the lights came up suddenly on stage, the music began.

The jocks looked at each other in a mixture of puzzlement and then sheer horror.

Da, da, da - da-da-da-da-da-da-da...

Da, da, da - da-da-da-da-da-da-da…

It certainly wasn't Eye of the tiger but, with the spirit of showbiz professionalism that Spike had drilled into them over the past four weeks, they all started jigging about the stage as well as they could, wielding their dildos in what they hoped was a provocative and wet-pussy-inducing manner.

As they did so, each of them stole a glance at the audience, hoping to establish eye contact with some hot chick who'd want to meet them later.

But something was wrong.

There didn't seem to be any women there at all.

In fact, the whole audience seemed to be made up of guys.

And guys of a particular type, at that.

They were all dressed pretty much the same in leather jackets, T-shirts and jeans.

Many of them had shaved heads or cropped hair.

Many had moustaches.

And all of them looked as though they'd be just as happy as any hot babes to form a queue at the stage door after the performance.

Da, da-da-da, da-da-da…

Young man, there's no need to feel down,

I said, young man, get yourself off the ground.

I said, young man, 'cos your in a new town

There's no need to be unhappy…

With their hearts sinking into their non-existent boots the boys continued dancing away.

After all, what else was there to do?

They could hardly flee the club into the streets, wearing little else but bits of old fake fur and gold lamé and sporting enormous erections.

So on and on they danced…

And, as their eyes became more accustomed to the gloom and the dense cigarette smoke, they began to think that they could recognise one or two familiar figures lurking towards the back of the heaving crowd.

There, sure enough, was Spike, sporting a big grin from ear to ear.

And alongside him… Could that guy trying to keep his face hidden under a big floppy hat be the school football coach "Back" Passage?

On Spike's other side, Gary Elliott thought he saw at least one genuine woman in the crowd. But there was something odd about her. And then it occurred to him that she seemed to bear a quite uncanny resemblance was t6o his old piano teacher from years ago Mr Zabaletta....

Meanwhile, right over in the back corner, the keenest-eyed jock, Troy LePhlegm, could just about make out a small flashing red light.

What he couldn't see, though, was that it belonged to a video camera operated, with a very shaky hand indeed, by Mr Hung Lo.

But even Troy was too far away to be able to see that, as Mr Hung pressed his finger to the "record" button on the machine, a thin line of watery spittle dribbled down from the corner of his wizened mouth and across his grubby chin.

Copyright: HMBoys.com/Rob Maynard 2001 - 2007

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