ANOTHER POSSIBLY LAST TASK
Caesar awoke from hard slaps to his face.
He was still in the same bar with the same music and the same creepy old men around him. But at least a little bit of time had passed because he was now totally naked. No gear was on his body, even the flip flops were gone.
It was a wonderful sensation of freedom, or it would have been if it wasn't for the soreness that pervaded throughout every joint, fiber and muscle. His hole was on fire and sticky liquid was running out of it and down his oiled up ass. He didn't want to think about it.
There was also the same unbearable horniness. His dick hadn't softened even now that the cock ring was gone.
As his blurry vision became more coherent he saw the red spots on his skin where the clamps, cuffs and all the other things had been. A constant ache in his balls made him realize that the damage was permanent and his sack hung lower than it should, even considering the size increase it had gone through.
Ángel was there, similarly freed from his shackles, still hard dicked as well.
"Here you go," Mike said and brought a beer to the muscle teen's lips. Caesar had never gotten drunk since that was bad for building a lean physique, but he gulped down the bitter liquid anyway to quench his enormous thirst.
Mike sighed. "I guess it wasn't all in good fun as I thought. You were out for a minute or so, but that gave me time to look over my notes. Turns out the gear was completely unnecessary. Since the tasks are in random order now it didn't matter when the gear task was so it wouldn't carry over to the following tasks. But whatever, technicalities. No one's fault really."
To his dismay, Caesar realized that he and Ángel were still wearing the thin collars. They weren't free yet.
"What... what now?" he asked, weakly.
Mike shrugged. "We still have to find out which task is the last one. Since the order is all over the place we'll have to keep trying. Don't worry, though, there are very few possibilities left."
The brothers got another beer, gulped it down and were kicked out of the bar, as nude as they were. Mike had said he would get back to them once he knew how to continue.
Two shining muscle boys, totally exhausted, but still masculine, testosterone driven teens, needed something to do.
"I'm gonna fucking explode," Ángel said. "After all this I could still cum hard."
Caesar looked left and right. "We should jerk off. We'll feel better afterward."
Of course that made perfect sense. Only they didn't want to do it in public.
Quickly the brothers walked to the back of the bar where nobody would see them and stood with their backs towards each other.
Caesar began to jerk off furiously and it took about ten stokes for his oversized teen dick to react. His hand didn't fit around the tool anywhere but the stimulation was more than enough to trigger orgasm.
Like in the mall he came as if he was pissing cum. His dick sprayed white drops onto the concrete as shivers hunted each other up and down his spine.
"That was fucking great. I needed that."
Behind him, Ángel came as well.
Then a tingling set in. The duo tensed up, knowing what to expect. They turned towards each other to confirm that the marks had truly appeared.
"Holy fuck!" Caesar yelled. "Now you have the same as me, bro. It says "FAGGOT" on your forehead."
Then he looked down on himself to see what had appeared at the position where the tingling had occurred. There was fanciful writing up the side of his legs saying "THIS FUCKSLAVE LIVES ONLY TO SERVICE DICK".
Well, that wasn't even that bad. After all the defacing his body had gone through there wasn't much that a single more insult could add. His younger brother was definitely more inconvenienced by the prominent forehead mark.
<>
Ángel groaned. "We just failed that, you fucker. Tell us what to do right fucking now or I'll come back in and rip your heart out."
<<This is exceedingly rude behavior. I know you're just uneducated children but I have done nothing but help you along the way. So here's a reminder.>>
The collars tightened and for what seemed like an eternity Caesar was unable to breathe. Electroshocks made his collapse to the hard ground. His vision faded before it was over. He silently begged Ángel not to antagonize the man further.
Then there was more tingling and panic returned.
"What's happening?" Ángel cried out. "Why do we get more marks?"
<<I guess the curse is super confused and can't keep up. Doesn't matter, just find the last task and it's all over.>>
Caesar felt his dick grow even more. Porn stars with that size were basically nonexistent. Even mostly soft he was bigger than any guy he had ever seen in the locker room. His balls grew in proportion and Ángel went through the same ordeal. Caesar was glad he didn't wear the cock ring anymore, since that would easily have cut the blood flow entirely.
His nipples hardened. It seemed that they grew too, but that was hard to say. They turned rock hard and erect despite him not feeling aroused.
"What the fuck is-" he spoke and stopped right away. His voice had changed again. It had gone from girly to unmistakably the voice of a girl.
"Fuck," Ángel said in a similar, disgustingly unmanly voice. Their lisps had increased, too. No one could possibly sound gayer no matter how hard they tried.
Caesar was ready to break down again.
<<Since you'll need an audience I propose you go to the mall. I mean the other mall, the small one for snobs. You know that one, right?>>
The boys had been there. Expensive wines from France, jewelry from Russia, fashion from Italy – that mall was for the suburbanites who had a country club membership. Their family was among such people which meant the boys had seen the mall a few times back when they were little kids.
It made sense to go there, since it was fairly close by and there would likely be relatively few people.
Caesar and Ángel began to jog. Without flip flops the running was painful on the soles but in comparison to their other exhaustions this was minor. Neither said anything but Caesar was sure his brother was equally glad to have gotten rid of the gear. Things almost seemed half bad.
With the total nakedness came a new kind of embarrassment. The sun was low but not going down for a while so the boys glistened intensely. With their comically big packages swinging semi-hard with every step they received as many stares as before. It almost felt as if the gear had protected them somewhat – as if it had been a shield that made the whole situation feel entirely unreal.
Now, however, they were just two perverse looking, nude, muscled exhibitionists.
Through the low density suburban space the duo reached the snob mall.
<<I've worked there for a while before my current boss was looking for an assistant. There's a backdoor that never closes properly. You can use it so the greeter won't keep you out at the front door. Have you ever been inside?>>
"Yeah," Caesar huffed. He wasn't used to jogging long distances. And his bladder was pretty full, too.
<<There's a corridor that leads directly into the center of that one fake Italian plaza looking place, where all the food stores are. I'll tell you how to get there but you have to make sure you're not seen. Once you're in you'll get away with pretty much anything. Unless that staff changed completely they're still lazy fucks who act busy only when the boss is looking.>>
The door was unlocked. The corridor was empty. The way was clear. Everything went so smoothly, Caesar began to doubt this would be difficult in any way.
The two boys reached the door at the end that would lead them onto the indoor plaza. To be exact they would exit onto a fake renaissance balcony on fake pillars that would serve as a platform for whatever they would have to do next, six feet above the ground.
<<There aren't many possible final tasks left. You both drank a few bottles, right?>>
"Yeah," Ángel said.
<<One task is to drink piss. In any other case you would have to find a stranger and swallow his urine. But for you two it's conveniently simple. Help each other out. Now go through the door and make sure people are looking.>>