Bog Off
by Tom


Chapter 34: The Law of Unintended Consequences

It went without saying that the afternoon promised to be as equally rewarding for some, except possibly for Luke, although very probably for Connor.

The first lesson of the afternoon was geography and Mr Oliver knowing the class were not interested in what he was doing, just as he were not interested in what they were doing, had determined a different plan of attack. Simply, that after the  slug orientated debacle, as long as he could maintain order that would have to suffice. Teaching per se was not a realistic option however enthusiastic he may be.

Reminiscent of a scene after a great battle, the limp body of Luke had been dragged unceremonially from the dining hall to the geography lesson supported either side by Joel and Dave. Unfortunately, quite unlike the heroic scene from said great battle Luke’s fly was wide open and offered the discerning voyeur alternate flashes of some soggy, sagging white briefs or shrunken cock. It has to be said that neither Joel nor Dave were feeling particularly energetic after their strenuous bouts of ejaculation and having taken a last look in the open fly had simply dumped Luke behind a desk. Dave who was due to sit next to him anyway had placed the glasses crookedly back in position on his nose, not that Luke could see anything anyway for the lenses were completely fogged with spunky finger prints.

Kelvin who was used to such mammoth bouts of self-abuse had fared better, so with minimal help from Bogbrush was propped up at his desk, a hand already through his pocketless pocket trying to rearrange his sore, half-hard cock in the spunky mess below.

“That were fucking good with Luke, I wants to cum again now!” he whispered to Bogbrush knowing he was about to become erect yet again, “d’yer wanna wank I off now or wait till the next lesson?”

“Don’t yer ever fucking give up!” Bogbrush sighed. “Look, I’s just cum twice, we’s gotta give it a rest till next lesson or our willy’s will fucking drop off or something!”

“Oh, I’s ‘spose so.” Kelvin reluctantly stopped rubbing and instead pushed a grubby comforting finger inside his foreskin hoping to collect a few tasty morsels of some revolting description.

“And,” continued Bogbrush, “yer wanna start thinking about wot yer gonna tell yer mum when she sees yer’s all covered in cum!”

“Wot?” he sucked his finger.

“Well look at yer blazer, yer’s just shot a bleeding gert load all over yerself now.”

“Oh fuck!” he had looked. “She’ll go fucking mental!”

“Get away!”

“Ah. Bollocks to it!” he continued to suck his finger as he contemplated life.

The fact was they had all ejaculated at least twice and Luke was now paying a heavy price for having managed it almost four times in a very short period of time.  Despite all of that, Dave was having trouble controlling himself for the temptation of Luke’s open fly only inches away from where he was sat was proving hard to resist.

“I’s just gonna check yer willy ‘cause it’s been rubbed at lot today!” whispered Dave on finally giving in to temptation and unable to find a better excuse to investigate.

“Yer wot?” mumbled Luke. Not understanding what Dave was talking about and  exhausted after the exceedingly heavy masturbation schedule of the last twenty four hours all he really wanted was to go to sleep.

Not having a pocketless pocket Dave had a hand through his fly and was dabbing the spunky cotton of his briefs around his cock hoping it would ease the soreness. Besides it would also provide some much needed lubricant if he were to attempt a third orgasm should his foray into Luke’s fly prove to be super erotic.

“Oh shit!” gasped an excited Dave.

The thrill of starting to masturbate in class whilst his other hand slowly wormed it’s way inside the slimy confines of Luke’s trousers was becoming a very, very real and extremely exciting prospect. All the more so since once inside the spunky briefs and groping around there was no apparent trace of Luke’s usual erection, it having been so badly abused had decided to retreat to recuperate.

“Ooh.. wot!” replied Luke feeling a strange hand.

“Oh shit!” reiterated an even more excited Dave. Further excited because he had now located the much shrivelled member and found the prospect of coaxing it to grow from an inch long to it’s full almost five inches as arousing as masturbating.

Across the aisle from Dave and Luke, having decided that being near the front of the class was not for them, Shirley and Debbie had moved back and were as ever engaged in what they did best. With fingers forever deep inside her moist Guptha’s International pink panties Shirley was looking around hoping, as was usual to find some boy playing with himself that she could watch whilst she stroked herself.

“Look at him,” she nudged Debbie, “I’s thinks fat Dave’s wanking, d’yer see his white pants through the fly?”

“Ooh… yeah.. I’s thinks I’s can,” Debbie strained to look across. “he won’t hava big ‘un… nah, he won’t will he?”

“Don’t know, be small wunnit, they fat kids always has small ones don’t em?”

“Hey quick, Shirl look,” hissed Debbie ignoring the not so gripping subject of why torrential rainfall in Derbyshire was always wet and so allowing Mr Oliver to lecture on his own, “don’t it look like Dave’s trying to wank off Luke while he wanks himself like… do looks like he’s gotta hand in Luke don’t it! Ooh fuck… reckon they’s must be a gert pair of queers!”

“Why can yer see his cock then?”

“Nah not quite, but I reckons they’s doing something,” under her mini, mini skirt Debbie’s purple painted fingernails edged deeper into the ever moistening mound, “they’s won’t have got big ‘un’s would ’em?”

For indeed they didn’t. Well, Dave certainly didn’t even if Luke’s boyhood just verged on average. However at that particular moment with considerable help from Dave’s grubby, nail bitten fingers Luke’s appendage had doubled in size to two inches with the very real possibility of more, that was if it could be persuaded. To that end Dave was trying all he could think of by way of arousal, his latest idea being to push his finger up inside the foreskin and wiggle it about inside the gloriously slimy interior.

“Hhhmmm… ooohh” moaned Luke shuffling on his chair… “aaahh yeah!”

It seemed that Dave might have actually hit the spot and that Luke was returning to the real world. Shirley also noted the apparent sound of appreciation and peered across the aisle, but could still see nothing other than Dave’s arm disappearing under the desk and possibly in Luke’s direction. What she did see though was that she had inadvertently caught Dave’s eye, he immediately flushed and responded in the time honoured tradition by giving her the two fingered salute.

“That fucker Dave just gave I’s the fucking V-sign!” she said to Debbie. “Little git! Well fuck that!”

Debbie instantly turned and offered in exchange the thumb and index finger response. Knowing he looked more than embarrassed at having been caught he was close to panic, the damning evidence of one hand inside Luke’s trousers and the other inside his own fly couldn’t be more conclusive. The first step was to escape from Luke’s foreskin although what to do with the finger that now positively dripped with the semen and had been maturing therein. The answer was that it tasted absolutely delicious even if there were a few cheesy bits to contend with, however almost lost on a cloud of seminal gastronomic delight he was soon to be returned to earth with bang for he sensed two pairs of eyes were now staring at him.

“D’yer think that fingers been up Luke’s bum?” asked Shirley excitedly, her hand now pressing very firmly on the squelchy mound. “That’s wot queers does innit?”

“Well they does I’s thinks, but so does us don’t us!” Debbie giggled and continued without a trace of embarrassment. There were no secrets between them, anal or otherwise,. “I’s did other night with a candle up me bum and two fingers in me fanny!”

“Yer wanna try it with yer candle and that gert pink hairbrush of yer’s up yer fanny!”

As the conversation and rude hand signals deepened, as did the girls fingers, it was somewhere around this time that Dave made his big mistake. For, having always avoided girls of the opposite sex he was totally unaware of just how volatile some hormonal young ladies could be. Unfortunately he caught Shirley’s eye yet again and this time he overreacted, for instead of simply letting the matter slide, he responded to her thumb and index finger gesticulation by mouthing the immortal words.

“Fuck off yer fucking old slag!”

It may have been the truth, whatever it struck was not so much a chord as the entire chromatic scale.

“He called I’s a fucking slag!” relayed a shocked Shirley to Debbie.

“Yer fucking wanker!” immediately responded Debbie with appropriate hand signals.

“I ain’t being called no slag! I’ll fucking have him!” announced Shirley, she looked wildly round. “Sir… Sir…”

“Oh… Shirley..” Mr Oliver sighed, what disaster had befallen her now, “what is it?”

“Sir, Sir..” Shirley was about to become a thespianette and give a true master-class in hamming it up, she continued in a tremulous voice. “Sir.. I’s frightened Sir.. that fat Dave he’s wanking and I’s afraid he’s gonna squirt over I!”

Unusually, a definite hush fell over the classroom, it was after all an unprecedented announcement. Practically speaking, at that precise moment for Dave to squirt anything further than the length of his cock after his current ejaculatory efforts was sheer wishful thinking.

“What?” Mr Oliver looked at her in disbelief. “Say that again.”

“Her’s only frightened ‘that her ain’t gonna get it up her!” said a mystery voice.

“Take’s a bleeding gert donkey to make her happy!” added a second mystery voice, the inflection being that first-hand carnal knowledge could well be evident.

Even for Mr Oliver it was hard not to smile, the mystery voice had sent the class into hysterics and also defused the situation to be followed the much to everyone’s relief by the bell signalling the end of the afternoon’s lessons ringing and allowing the aggregation of oversexed adolescents to noisily escape and head home, doubtless for more pleasures of the flesh.

For Farty though there was to be no escape, not that at that precise moment he wanted to escape anyway.

“Come on Fart’s, follow us home we’s got things to do.” Connor had been looking forward to the sound of the bell all day and immediately seized both the moment and Farty once they were outside of the classroom.

With an erection threatening to burst from his trousers, his Guptha’s International underpants awash with semen from that very last lesson, Connor grabbed hold of Farty’s blazer sleeve and pulled him along behind.

“Don’t rip me bleeding coat, there ain’t much of it as there is!” Farty was already erect and excited, but sadly unable to compete with Connor’s penile magnificence.

“Yer is wearing yer vest and that ain’t yer?” asked Connor glancing back as the school rapidly disappeared in the distance behind them.

“Course I’s is.” gasped Farty, his fat little legs had not been so active in a long while. “Does us have to go so bleeding fast?”

“Has yer been all hard thinking about this?” Connor was neither letting go nor slowing down. “I’s has… and I’s spunked off in the last lesson thinking of yer!”

“Yer wot?” deep in the rolls of fat Farty’s sticky organ twitched. Flattery indeed. “Yer wanked off thinking of I?”

“Yeah!” replied Connor very enthusiastically. “When us gets home, first I’s gonna undress yer and then I’s got a gert special treat for yer!”

“Wot’s that?” wheezed Farty, proving he was quite unfit and out of breath.

“Wait and see, we’s nearly there now.”

Farty looked around very relieved to hear the forced march couldn’t last much longer, he thought all the houses on the estate looked very familiar as indeed they were, being all identical! The only difference was that some occupants took care of their property whilst others didn’t and as Farty was to soon find out, his family fell into the former category and Connor’s into the latter.

“Yer we is.”

Connor had stopped outside a decidedly unkempt property replete with a collection of broken bricks and rubble on what passed for the front lawn garden, an old fridge was discreetly placed in the weed infested flower bed.

“We’s home.” announced Connor proudly, although by now quite unable to stop himself energetically rubbing himself through his pocket. He finally relaxed his grip on Farty’s sleeve and turned to kick the sagging garden gate open. “Well come on then.”

“Oh..” even by Farty’s low standards of council estate life the house looked a total tip and they hadn’t even gone inside yet, he looked in amazement at the large pile of rubble on the lawn. “Wot’s they gert bricks and that for then?”

With severe seepage from his cock Connor wasn’t particularly interested, Farty had to be undressed sooner than later. “‘spect our dad’s building a fucking rockery like!”

“Be a gert big ‘un then wunnit?”

“Wot’s mean, he’s gotta a gert big ‘un? Yeah he fucking has. I’s seen it, it’s gert, gert bigger than mine!”

“Oh.. wot?” Farty was partially lost, yet fascinated. “Wot! How d’yer knows?”

“Well he wanks don’t he, if our mum don’t wanna know on Sunday mornings!” said Connor, candour was neither to be seen nor heard. “He’s do it in the bog don’t he, I’s knows ‘cause I’s spied on him!”

“How big?” asked Farty with ever enlarging pupils.

“This big.” Connor put his hands apart to indicate something at least two feet long.

“Cor… bugger that big!”

“Now come upstairs, our mum ain’t back till six so’s we’s got gert loads of time.”

Standing by the open front door with one hand now down the front of his trousers Connor didn’t so much usher Farty in as drag him inside, an interchange of strong, stale tobacco and takeaway food wafted out into the atmosphere around them.

“I’s gotta get back by five-ish.” mumbled Farty have already decided that Connor’s house was not the place to be, the front door slammed behind him. “Oh dark innit?”

“Oohh… fuck!” cooed Connor. “I’s been wanting to get me hands on yer all day!”

Farty was worried, what had he let himself in for?

He was about to find out as in the gloom from behind he suddenly found that Connor’s hand sticky with semen was pushing between his ample thighs to cradle his hairless bits. Before he had a chance to say anything, let alone object, Connor’s other hand had started to unfasten his trousers.

“Wot.. wot.. yer doing!” he squeaked in panic. Embarrassingly, he then lived up to his nickname as his nerves gave way and he produced an enormous fart.

“Oh bleeding hell, yer ain’t shit yerself has yer!”

Connor’s strong nasal constitution ensured he was not put off as Farty might have hoped, but instead even more intrigued by his captive visitor.

“It’s me nerves!” mumbled a very embarrassed Farty putting a hand behind, worried that under the circumstances he might have had another one of his accidents.

“We’s going up to me room and I’s just wanted to follow yer up with yer trousers hanging down!” said Connor, his hot breath on Farty’s neck. “That’s alright innit, it turns I’s on. So go on up they bleeding stairs, me rooms on the right by the bog and don’t fart in me face!”

With Connor right behind him absorbing the sights and smells Farty made it up to the landing in record time, albeit with a little digital assistance.

At least there was window on the landing allowing Farty to see that the household would never win any prizes for housework, the threadbare carpet was piled with dirty washing, full ashtrays and dirty crockery.

“Get in me room then, it’s there innit.”

Connor pushed Farty through the door to discover that the bedroom was just like the landing with the addition of an unmade bed and a oddly familiar, if somewhat overpowering smell. A fine example of a problematic flat-pack chest of drawers leant drunkenly against the wall with all drawers stuck open and clothes hanging out. The almost matching bookcase which held no books, but a selection of toys was propped up against the other wall.

“Oh.. wot’s that smell?” asked Farty without thinking.

“Dunno, why has yer farted again then?” Connor was immune to such insults and the smell of the room, he positioned Farty by the bed and stood next to the edge. “Coats off then and yer can undo me trousers off while I’s undress’s yer, alright?”

“Oh.. right.. umm..” Farty’s appendage had just shrivelled up at the prospect.

“D’yer wants to look at me bum or me cock when yer does it?” offered Connor enthusiastically.

“Uumm.. oh.. if yer stands with yer back to I’s… I’s.. uumm.. can undo yer trousers easier.” mumbled Farty desperately wishing he was home even if Cilla were there.

Never have been given the choice before Farty wasn’t sure, but by doing it this way at least he didn’t have to look Connor in the face. With blazers off and Connor facing away Farty took the opportunity to do as Billie had requested and reconnoitre the state of the bed. Since the bedding was left as Connor had vacated it that morning it was a very easy task and revealed much to Farty’s growing intrigue that the sheets had obviously not been changed for a long time. The distinctive aroma and innumerable yellow blotches of dried semen were visual proof, it also appeared in the light as though some were still actually wet, not that that should have been a great surprise!

However, Farty’s attention was soon diverted from the bed for with Connor being desperate to get his hands on him the idea of a slow and sensual joint undressing had been abandoned. So, only three seconds later a very surprised Farty found himself standing there wearing just his matching white underwear and odd socks replete with holes. He watched, marvelled even at the speed with which Connor ripped his own clothes off to display the semen soaked briefs which with sagging elastic had no chance of containing his bloated cock which poked lewdly out from the side.

“Thought us could lie on me bed and have a bit of a feel like.” said Connor excitedly starting to run his hands over the vest concealing Farty’s ample torso. “Feels like yer’s got tits! I ain’t never felt no tits before has yer?”

Shaking his head Farty gulped, looked at the shimmering bed and gulped again. There was no point in bothering to argue that he was just a bit plump and didn’t have actual tits, even if what he did have was bigger than what he knew Cilla called tits!

“Let’s hava feel then!” Connor seemed to jump onto Farty so that they fell down onto the bed with a dreadful squelching noise.

“Fuck it’s all.. all..” gasped Farty in shock, “it’s all bleeding wet and sticky!”

Waving his podgy hands around to balance himself he found that his more than ample body was actually sinking into the mattress and that cold, slimy spunk was now oozing up all around him. There was problem with the bed, in that in addition to occasional bouts of bed wetting the mattress had been infused relentlessly by Connor ever since he was able to ejaculate so that by now it wasn’t so much a mattress as a morass of spunk. As such it was cleverly biding it’s time and awaiting an unsuspecting someone of just about Farty’s weight to fall on it and start the pressurising process to squidge it all up to the surface.

“Fuck wot is it?” shrieked Farty, feeling he was in a sinking boat he began thrashing around which only succeeded in inducing more foul deposits to filter upwards.

“It’s only were’s I’s had a wank this morning… maybe it ain’t dried like!” replied Connor, calmly ignoring his cock which was leaving ever larger streaks of precum over Farty’s legs. “Lie bloody yer head on me pillow and I’ll give yer a check over.”

“Oh fuck… alright!”

Not sure what to do he acquiesced to Connor’s roving hands, although had there been the option he would have liked to have gone home. Better still, not ventured inside the house in the first place as the possibility of the whole thing ending in tears was increasing. Reluctantly he lay back on the pillow which, had he taken notice earlier looked rather odd and was stained in a similar way to the bottom sheet. For a few seconds all was well, his vest and briefs although soaked with old spunk had at least warmed up to body temperature. Connor was having great difficulty in holding back from a promised massive ejaculation and working his way up the inside of Farty’s plump thighs prior to starting a detailed inspection of whatever was inside the white briefs.

However the calm was soon to be punctuated by Farty lifting his head off the pillow and again shrieking. “Fuck! Fuck wot is it?”

“Yer wot?” Connor looked up from between the plump, white legs.

“Me fucking hair’s got all stuck together!” cried a distraught Farty pulling at his head and in looking in amazement at the blobs of congealed spunk he was picking out.

“Ah, it’s only cause I’s fucked me pillow last night!” replied Connor calmly. “Don’t yer does that? Bend it in half and stuff yer willy in the crack and pretend yer’s fucking something!”

“It’s a bleeding gert load of cum for one wank innit?” continued the distraught Farty still pulling frantically at his hair.

Sticky hair or not, it was though a distraction allowing him to momentarily forget that both he and his underwear were being slowly submerged by the rising tide of  smelly, vintage spunk from the mattress. Not that that aspect appeared to bother Connor in the least as having slept in his own juices for so long he was immune to both smell and feel.

“Oh, I’s been fucking that for weeks, maybe’s twice a night!” Connor grinned as though fornicating his pillow was an everyday occurrence, which of course it was. “See, so when yer comes to fuck it the next night it’s already spunked up with lube!”

“Oh fuck…”

Farty’s voice tailed off, it was all becoming a bit much. Conversely for Connor, he had reached the point of no return and had to ejaculate else it felt like his balls might explode. Quickly manoeuvring himself into a suitable horizontal position beside and behind Farty and pulled at the white briefs and without further ado rammed his spluttering cock inside. There was little control over the final destination and it inadvertently took the wrong path for instead of going between Farty’s legs as  intended, it forged it’s way between the hot, sweaty buttocks flooding them with semen as it went. Very luckily, from Connor’s sideways starting position the actual available length of cock for a forced entry was restricted to just a couple of inches, nevertheless Farty couldn’t stop crying out when his sphincter was forced asunder. Since in this instance it was a case of length equalled width, the self-lubricating, two inch diameter head really did hurt and produced an unfortunate, embarrassing side-effect in that the Law of Unintended Consequences ensured a seismic release of gaseous particles.

“Fucking hell!” exclaimed Connor being quite taken aback, if not blown back by the explosive reaction.

“Aaahhh…” moaned Farty like a deflating balloon.

Despite Connor’s preoccupation with sex he was genuinely contrite at what had happened for it was a mistake, besides there was the possibility that he could loose a willing sexual accomplice. He tried to pacify the tearful, distraught Farty who by now, other than being smothered in smelly old semen and feeling that strange things were escaping from the cavernous hole reamed in his bottom, was in quite a state. Connor, who’s minimal brain was working overtime then suggested a solution in that maybe Farty renounce his sodden underwear and instead go home wearing something clean? It seemed a idea and appealed to Farty since it would allow him to quickly escape, although as Farty should have guessed, clean was a relative term when it came to Connor’s idea of laundry.

“Wot ‘bout these?” Connor having rummaged through one of the drawers of the leaning chipboard chest held up a pair of very tired orange underpants.

Still wearing his own, even if sodden with spunk Farty moved over and looked. “Nah, ain’t yer got nothing white in case our ma finds ’em?”


Connor looked in the drawer, then at the front of Farty’s briefs. Temptation was all around him. As yet Farty hadn’t ejaculated, but had to be encouraged to do so. “Yer could borrow me favourite yellow ones, if yer wants.”

“Wot’s they like then?” Farty moved to stand next to him and peered inside the drawer seemingly not noticing that Connor’s cock had escaped and was rapidly hardening yet again. “Will they fit?”

“I’s thinks so.” Connor looked at Farty, it was time for a little fun, without asking he took hold of Farty’s vest and started to pull it up over his head. “Let’s get yer outta they spunky ones and have a look.”


Whilst Farty didn’t argue, he was embarrassed by his flabby white body topped by the magnificent pair of boy breasts, Connor was certainly not embarrassed, in fact quite the contrary. His hands were everywhere delving into the rolls of fat feeling for Farty’s cock, wobbling the pendulous breasts and kneading the enormous buttocks, it was all designed to excite.

“If yer pulls me pants down, then I’ll take yer’s off and suck yer willy for yer?” said Connor already cupping the front of Farty’s briefs and feeling for what could possibly be a small cock somewhere in the rolls of fat.

For Farty the moment was now, appearing to have already forgotten his state of dire distress only minutes earlier, he lunged at Connor and wrenched the spunky yellow waistband of the brown briefs to the ground. Now free, the magnificent twelve year old organ twanged upwards hitting Farty in the face and depositing a full foreskin’s worth of spunk into his left eye.


“Oh shit!” exclaimed Farty grabbing at his eye as popping noises came from his rear.

Connor responded by grabbing the drooping white briefs and pulling them down to expose not a lot other than ripples of fat. Taking a guess as where things should be he launched himself in the general direction and after slobbering around in folds of spunky flesh finally took in his mouth the entire, shrivelled two inches.

“Me eye’s all fucking stuck up!” bemoaned Farty rubbing the spunk around and only making matters worse, below waist lever Connor had set to work and the two inches was now almost three.

“Farty bleeding shut up about yer eye and listen,” Connor was looking up over the horizon of the flabby stomach, “if I’s lies on me bed would yer get on top of us on all fours like so’s I could suck yer willy proper and yer could suck mine?”

“Yer wot?” replied Farty, for seconds his limited brain power was put to maximum use. “Oh.. I’s thinks I’s see’s wot yer means… alright I’s give it a try.”

“Yer does wanna suck mine don’t yer?” asked Connor immediately heading for the bed.

“Oh yeah, yeah… ‘cause I ain’t… uumm.. it ain’t dirty or nothing is it?” he replied having forgotten where the first two inches it had just been.

“Nah, course not, so bloody come on then, get on top of I’s.” Connor watched, the naked and waddling Farty didn’t make the prettiest of sights, but to Connor he was Adonis personified.

“And, yer’s got I’s nearly cumming back then.” said a very excited Farty.

While Connor lay on the bed toying with his huge cock Farty lumbered towards him with, much to Connor’s delighted surprise what looked like something protruding from under the wobbly mass. After considerable effort Farty, certainly not the most athletic boy was finally in position with an excess of wobble draped over Connor like a duvet cover. After a few words of very explicit encouragement to Farty, Connor immediately set to work energetically taking all that was on offer into his mouth, the gyrations causing the fleshy excesses to erotically wash over him like waves massaging at the same time.

Facing the other end of the bed Farty was looking rather dubiously at the wet head of the twitching organ sticking up all of a couple of inches in front of his face. First he very tentatively he touched it with his tongue to taste what was on offer, slowly the touching increased until he was licking it and the next step was obvious. Pausing to wipe the dribbles of precum and saliva from his mouth onto the back of his hand he drew back, noting the oozing slit he took stock, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

“So when’s we’s doing this again?”


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