[andyrobson2006]

I was going to argue with Dick. I needed someone to scream at and he was both convenient and appropriate, however Dick handed me over to Nick and Joey for support and strode off.

“Don’t worry, Cumdump. We’ve got you.” Joey was trying to be supportive as two naked men held open heavy studio doors for us.

“Stop calling me that,” I wailed. “My name’s Andy.”

“Hah! You wish,” Joey laughed.

“Yeah, sorry. I’d forgotten it.” Nick was mildly apologetic, but he was the only one.

An unknown hand slapped me on the buttock. “You’re just Cumdump now, sucker.”

After that it seemed to be a sport for my fellow contestants to slap my ass and call me Cumdump but in less than a minute we got to the showers and they were distracted from tormenting me.

The facility was essentially a small sportsmen’s changing room. There were no lockers or anything else portable but all the fixtures and fittings seemed clean. There were hooks on the walls, there were benches screwed to the tiled floor, and there was a shower room with four heads sticking out from a wall. In a corner of the changing room was a trolley with three piles of towels, jeans and shirts.

“I know you all want to soak,” Dick told us, “but we do need to get a move on.”

I took my time. I didn’t care about their fucking schedule, or their fucking show, or making it to the fucking studio in time to see some other poor bastard suffer like I did. They all started getting changed as I just stood under the water, leaning against the tiles, sobbing.

“I’m taking the others to the lounge. You hang tight.”

I barely registered Dick’s comment. I was still under the shower, wishing the water could wash away the past two hours.

After a few more minutes I went outside to dry and found the room with no towels, jeans, or shirts. I guessed Samantha was wearing my assigned clothes, though I was surprised they had all taken the towels too. After the experiences I had had, though, this was nothing. I simply sat down on a bench and waited, my mind either blank or so full of random horrifying thoughts. Either way, I was not thinking.

“Hey, Cumdump. How’s it going?”

I turned to protest at the name, but I didn’t have the energy any more. What was the point?

“Dick? Have you come to collect me? I’m still waiting for the son of a bitch who runs this show.” I waved at the empty room. “Oh, and I need some clothes.”

Dick snorted with amusement. “Hi. I am the son of a bitch who runs this show and, no, you don’t.”

I looked up at him, startled.

“Give me a couple of minutes to say my piece and then decide what you want to do.”

I didn’t so much accept or refuse that offer as sit there with my mouth flapping open like a moron. What?

His voice was firm but reasonable, like a principal you respected but didn’t like.

“You’re fucked. More precisely, Barb and I have fucked you. We have nudged you into being at the receiving end of some of the most disgusting acts and we have copious video footage illustrating it from every possible angle. When this gets out into the general population you will be ruined. Our program is going out on a new, edgy streaming service, but it’s going out to the general public. You’re fucked.”

His voice took on a more sympathetic tone.

“But not everyone watches the sexually explicit streams. There’s a very good chance that your mother will never watch the program. The people in your apartment block who do watch it will be the sort of people who will want to tease and exploit you for their own ends, rather than have you driven out and made homeless.

“And there’s more good news. As well as only the right people getting all the details of your new reality, it’s also time-limited. After a bit you will be forgotten. The people who chatter about you, who laugh at you, who despise you… they’ll forget about you. They’ll all move on to the shiny new thing, the next humiliation, the next exposure, the next poor bastard we destroy.”

His voice turned hard again.

“But you gave us your darling mother’s contact details for use in emergencies. We have your home address and, so, the address of everyone else in your apartment block. It was the work of moments to get your LinkedIn contacts. If we want to, we can create an ongoing campaign to keep your humiliation fresh. We can make it worse, much worse.

“If you disobey my one, simple instruction you will find your life crashing down around your ankles faster than underwear on our game show.” He smiled at the comparison. “Understand?”

I looked up at him. There was no warmth in his eyes, no humanity. He was a predator and I was his cornered prey.

“One simple instruction?” It took me all my effort to calm my brain to ask even that simple question. This could not be happening. But it was! But it couldn’t be!! Round and round my mind went, unable to find an acceptable version of reality that matched the obvious facts.

“The instruction? Be Cumdump. Embrace the character. Live it. Follow it wherever it leads,” he chuckled, “or we lead it. But be Cumdump.”

“I have a … had a life. A job.”

“You will still have these. Sometimes you will play the role of Andrew Robson, IT contractor and dutiful son. But it’s an act. You are Cumdump.”

Speech eluded me. Shock was setting in. Every time I thought I was at rock bottom, there was further to fall.

“You don’t need to say a word. Signal agreement by sucking my cock and taking my cumshot all over your face. Signal disagreement by walking out of here right now, stark naked, and seeing if you can drive home before I hit the metaphorical big red button of doom.”

He stood less than twelve inches from me, unzipped his pants, and dropped them with his boxers to his knees. His cock was in my face, already hard in anticipation of my surrender.

My mind could not process what was happening. Neither of us said a word or moved a muscle. I tried to think coherently but couldn’t. Finally my panicked mind latched onto something it could use: short-term survival. I just had to get myself through the day, and I would worry about the future later. I leant forward, tentatively kissed the end of his cock and stroked it with my tongue.

Dick made no word, but his cock twitched. Encouraged, I opened my mouth a small bit more, still not enough for the girth of his cock. I started pleasuring just the top half of his cock head. Slowly I widened my mouth to take in his whole cock head. I swirled it with my tongue, and I was startled that I had automatically started looking for ways to “unlock his orgasm” in Trevor’s comic formal language.

I don’t know whether it was me running my tongue round the underside of his mushroom-shaped cock head or whether he had just been building up pressure all the time, but I felt him shiver as the orgasm broke. I pulled back and got only half of his cumshot in my mouth. The rest sprayed across my freshly washed face.

Andy was gone. Cumdump had been baptized in his place.

“Get up. You’re in costume now. This is your ‘Look’: naked, with at least one cumshot clearly visible on you, and exposed completely for sight and touch.”

I was about to say something when he slapped me on the ass and pushed me ahead of him. “Let‘s go. We need to make it to the studio on time.”

As we walked he coached me on my new identity. “Don’t weep for an old life you can’t ever get back. Have fun with the new one. Embrace it. Enjoy it. Explore it.”

He guided me to a rear door for the studio where we found Barbie getting her makeup touched up. “Here’s Cumdump,” Max told her. “He’s on board.”

I hadn’t actually agreed, I dimly realized, at least not in words, but that seemed irrelevant. My mind was still spinning. I was Cumdump and nothing I said would ever change that.

Then I was swept up again in the hubbub of a game show studio and Dick led me to the stage at a brisk pace.

“You stand here. You know the drill.”

There was a second bondage frame waiting for me, and I let Dick fit me in it.

“There was always going to be a Cumdump?” I asked him.

He smiled and passed me a bottle to drink from. “Everyone forgets hydration until they pass out.” He waved at the rush around us as I downed it. I hadn’t realized just how thirsty I was. The bottle described it as an isotonic rehydration fluid. It tasted funny but I was beyond caring at details like that.

“Now you’re starting to see behind the curtain. The whole thing is planned out. Did you spot how we didn’t cut the deck of cards before the very first game? The order was designed to let contestant number three get lucky, and to damn contestant number four into becoming Cumdump.

“I built the script into the card orders, the spinning wheel clothes selector and even the ball draws. Barb has the human touch to get the contestants to follow the script. Between us we drive the whole thing. We met at college: Barbara and Rick. Remember the name of the production company, Barbarick Productions? That’s us. Max, contestant number three? He’s the money man. He said he wanted convincing we could drive a script. He‘s convinced now.”

He paused. “Though the song and dance act was not what we had planned.” He shook his head, amused at the memory. “And we dropped the ball somewhere with Jim and Sam. At some point we must have known they were together to seat them like that. But it never made it to me to script.”

He sighed. “We’re still debugging bits of the show.”

“And this damn frame only arrived this morning, way too late for the first show when we were supposed to use it. Sorry the chair was so uncomfortable.”

Was it my imagination, or was Dick trying to behave like a normal human being bitching about work with a buddy?

“Why did you pick me to be contestant number four?” Finally, I built up the strength to whisper the question that was burning within me. Why me?

“Barb said you had the right look to be a perfect Cumdump, and she’s a great judge of character. Was she wrong?” His hand started idly stroking my balls. “I think she chose really well.” He stroked the underside of my cock and it sprang back to life, quivering as it pointed at the crowd.

I said nothing. I couldn’t deny it. I was, voluntarily, standing stark naked at the side of a stage with an exposed hard cock, and fresh cum dripping down my face.

Dick looked over at Barbie standing in the middle of the stage giving the briefing. “Now look, you’ve got me behind, gossipping like a schoolgirl. Remember: if you resist we will destroy you.” He slapped me cheerily on the backside and trotted off to his mark.

The audience lights went out. The stage lights came on. The sign said we were ON AIR.

Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Take Off, the audience participation stripping show!

Here we go again.