The Laundry Boy - Part 2

All characters are 18+ 

The strong stench of virile teenage football player remained glued to me for the entirety of the two hours. I became a horny, raging beast as I scooped up handfuls of sweaty, warm underwear, socks, shorts and jerseys and buried my face in them, then reluctantly dunked them into the basin of hot, soapy water.

By the time I was done, my cock had never been as hard, and I stared down at the murky water and considered stripping down and fucking bathing in it! Thankfully, not all of my senses had been destroyed by the arousal that coursed through my veins, so I simply dumped the copious amounts of wet clothing into the dryers and sat back, exhausted and horny.

It was obvious that the footballers, especially Harry, were going to make these next few weeks as difficult as possible for me, or so they thought.

Having a ripe jockstrap shoved over my face and being forced to stand there whilst an entire football team of hot young men stripped naked around me had been the most humiliating yet most spectacular moment of my life, and if those guys thought that I would now repent for my prank, they had another thing coming.

I had four weeks left. Four long weeks of daily laundry, and daily doses of stunning hunks exposing themselves to me, but it wasn't enough. The thick aroma of their cocks, balls and asses had me hooked already. How far would I have to go for the team to resort to punishing me in a more sadistic way? Could I convince Harry to do more than just rub his dirty jock in my face? Well I was certainly going to find out.

By the following day, I'd drained myself dry at least six times. I wondered how obvious it would be if I began swiping the odd pair of underwear to take home with me. Technically, I could have them back before anybody even noticed they were missing, but my current plan would result in something much, much better.

"Hey Laundry Boy" someone scoffed as a group of the beautiful young men walked by.

"Shit, he stinks of balls!" Another added to a rumble of laughter.

Yeah, that I could do without. Yet the feeling of sexual submission that was being forced on me was mind numbing. They were teasing me publicly, calling me names and pretty much bullying me, and I was beginning to long for it. What was I becoming?

The final bell couldn't come soon enough, and I certainly didn't need Mr. Hannon to accompany me down to the changing rooms once football practice ended.

I'd spent the hour sitting on the bleachers waiting for it to finish. I watched as the muscular young men sweated all over themselves on the field, tackling, running, diving and scoring. I watched some of them pull wedgies out of their asses, and knew that soon I'd be inhaling the beautiful stench of it.

I watched others scratch their balls through the fabric of their shorts, adjusting their big, flopping cocks, and wondered if any of them ever became horny on the field. Did any of them ever spill pre-cum into their underwear? If they did, I would be sure to find it, but first I would have to endure their torment and so I'd worn my tightest pair of briefs for the challenge.

They were an old pair that I hadn't worn in years, but I couldn't risk anything looser. If they even thought that their humiliating acts were somehow turning me on, well, I couldn't even imagine what the outcome would be. So with my extra small tighty-whities squeezing my package, I picked up the laundry basket and stood in the same spot that I had yesterday, a few minutes later the rowdy rumbles of football players filled the halls.

"Laundry Boys back" one of them sniggered, and instantly I got a face full of a balled up, wet football jersey. It fell into the basket after it splashed against my face.

"I got these real messed up" someone else told me, purposely rubbing his shorts in my face so that I received a lung-full of musk.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I pissed in these a little" a third sneered, dropping his boxer briefs on my head as my cheeks turned red.

They continued to pile into the room, though most of them ignored me. Harry however, appeared last, and he certainly didn't ignore me.

"I didn't think you'd come back" he grinned, and picked the boxer briefs from my head between his thumb and forefinger, dropping them into the overflowing basket.

"That's not your crown, is it?" He scoffed, and began to undress right in front of me. Thank god for tight briefs.

I did my best to avert my eyes, but he was too fucking hot to do it for long. Once or twice I was sure he'd noticed that I was scanning his ripped body, but he made no mention of it, and finally he slid off his black jockstrap.

"Open" he said with a snide grin, and I cocked a brow.

"Or should we tell Hannon that you refused to do the laundry?" He added, and I could see the rest of his pals begin to crowd around.

"I'm not refusing" I growled, but if Harry was telling me to do what I thought he was telling me to do, I was about to die and go to humiliated heaven.

"And who do you think he's gonna believe, Laundry Boy?" He smirked, "now open".

I gulped. As hot as the situation was becoming, it would most certainly destroy any reputation that I'd managed to build up in this school, not that that was saying much.

"Come on, man" I half groaned, "isn't this enough", I lifted the basket slightly, but Harry ignored me as his long, thick cock continued to swing between his perfect thighs like a pendulum.

"Open your mouth, Laundry Boy" he snarled.

Whether reluctantly or not, I sighed and slowly parted my lips, and the second they opened, my mouth became stuffed with salty, warm fabric and I could taste his ripe cock instantly.

The entire changing room erupted with manic laughter. It was like they'd won the fucking league, and all I could do was stand there and take the abuse. Was it abuse? Wasn't this exactly what I'd wanted since this whole thing started? You fucking bet it was. My cock was now bulging against my crotch, straining for release, but thankfully my underwear was doing it's job.

"Enjoy that, Laundry Boy" Harry grinned, "and enjoy this too".

He slipped out of view for a moment, and before I realised what he was doing, I felt the air against my legs, and my eyes widened.

"Holy fucking shit, he's wearing tighty whities!" Harry roared, and if I thought the team had been wild before, now they were feral.

As I dropped the basket and began clambering with my trousers, Harry grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me against the lockers behind me. My mouth remained stuffed with his jock.

"Do you really wanna be expelled with only one month left of school?" He asked with a smirk, "do you think any college will want someone who was kicked out of school?"

I glared at him. He was right of course, but this was becoming painfully embarrassing. Deep down inside however, this treatment was exactly what I needed. I needed Harry to teach me a lesson, whether I wanted to admit it or not.

"Now you just stand right there like a good laundry boy" he grinned, shoving the basket back in my hands and positioning me once again, only this time with my pants around my ankles and my cheeks the colour of tomatoes.

"I'm starting to like Laundry Boy!" Harry announced to the entertained crowd, "maybe he should be our new mascot, Tighty-Whitie-Laundry-Boy!"

Another roar of laughter ensued, and I stood there swallowing the taste of Harry's cock and balls, and praying that none of the young men noticed the wet patch forming where my erection pressed against the cotton material of my underwear.