Date: Thu, 28 Jun 2018 00:20:03 +0000 From: revjpgibson@hotmail.com Subject: Grand Champion 13 Sex OLYMPICS By Rev Jesse Penfield Gibson MDiv, DMin AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just for fun, this is the second draft of the story, which I abandoned for the one published in parts 1-12. I stopped this one because it made no sense to have Carl as the main character and the story was unfocused. The only difference between this and the first draft is that I changed to location to the Keys in this and renamed the resort Sebastian (after St Sebastian, the martyr almost always depicted in paintings as nearly naked and very buff). It ends where I figured out this version wouldn't work. DISCLAIMER: This is fiction. It is set in a future where the US no longer exists, split into various parts. The Southeastern US is a theocracy (known as the Convention) and the Florida Keys have split off, dedicated to the trafficking of sin. The Convention and Texas are at war with a Mormon dominated state called Deseret. The economy of the Keys are dominated by a group of companies that control pornography production, prostitution, gambling, and drugs through tourist resorts. In this world, almost nothing is illegal and everything can be bought. Complaints, compliments and comments to revjpgibson@hotmail.com Follow on Twitter https://twitter.com/jesse_penfield @Jesse Penfield Please consider donating to Nifty. These stories deserve a home. PROLOGUE Carl Boettcher is a body man. In the Keys, he is used to being an important man. The rest of the world, for the most part, looks on him as scum. He didn't really mind. He sold sin and never lacked for buyers. He knew he had a winner the first time he saw the boy. No one had ever doubted his eye for male talent. His downfall had been female talent. When he was younger, and tastes were different, he had enough winners to keep his employer, Black Stag. happy and going. The last few years that he was there, the quality was off among the women though. Only the male end held up but the people who ran Black Stag didn't want to be a strictly gay outfit or even mostly gay. So, they had made him co-talent coordinator, which he had accepted with good grace. But then, they started messing with the guy side, his side, by second guessing his choices and messing with his famed training methods. He cashed out his options and walked, setting up his own boutique company, which he called Sebastian after the martyred saint. The talent makes it run. His motto was to find them young and train them up. The Big Bend Home, part of the Northern Gulf Convention, was where he was looking. He had gotten a lead. A heavy hitter in the convention, the pastor of a Pensacola super church and former big wheel patron from Carl's days at Black Stag, had told him about a cute boy of only 15 in the underfunded home. Carl had only to see the boy to know his trip hadn't been a waste. Carlos had the lean, overtall and underdeveloped physique typical of growing boys but an angelic face, clear skin and, judging from the crotch of his just too tight work pants, well endowed. The clergy man that ran the home was there in the spartanly furnished office, behind his battered desk, and he was clearly nervous. He had to suspect what Carl was and why he was there. Carl wondered whether this clergy man was one of the rare true believers or if he was just too luckless or stupid to rise above his current low level in the Ministry. The fact that he seemed almost pathetically eager to be rid of the boy, even to a body man, suggested that he wasn't overburden with ideals. Likely, he was one of those ambitious men who choose Christian Service as a path to power and wealth but whose ambition outstripped his ability. Carlos sat there in the office, sullen and silent. He knew he was being sold and it made him angry, not so much at the buyer -- although he didn't trust him-- as much as the seller. A part of him wanted to leave and part of him wanted to stay. "The father was killed by the Mormons?" Carl asked, staring at Carlos, who returned his stare with insolence and adolescent leering. The boy knew the score, if the preacher didn't, Carl thought. "Yes. " the minister said "And the mother?" "She's in prison for fornication, wantonness and witchcraft" If they labeled her a witch, she had lost all her civil rights, Carl knew. So much the better, he thought. Nobody to complain. They'll exile her to the Keys (if she's lucky or to New Orleans if she isn't) after they release her. There isn't much room for charity in the Convention. He asked to talk with the boy alone and the clergy man reluctantly left the room, his eyes almost pleading with Carlos to not mess this up. "Do you know what I am?" "You're a body man." Carlos said, eying him up and down. His posture was straight and he didn't back away at all. Carlos saw no reason to kiss ass. "You turn innocent boys and girls into whores and pornography victims and even worse." "You're not that fucking innocent, kid. They want to get rid of you because you're giving, what, 5 credit blow jobs in the showers," Carl retorted. "The question I have is do you want to get the fuck out of here by coming with me?" "I'll get more than 5 bucks?" "Definitely" Carl answered. "Sign me up" Carlos said. "It's better than here." "Let's see the dick, kid" Carl said. Carlos shrugged and undid his pants, letting the fly open. He yanked down his underwear. He had black curly pubes, all the way filled in, thick balls and a nice sized tool soft. He was uncut. A bonus. The Venezualans and the Cubans like their boys uncut like they are. Even those from the Convention or the Atlantic Federation will sometimes want an exotic boy. But the fact he was uncut made Carl wonder. "Are you even a citizen?" Carlos looked down as he pulled up his pants. "No. We're migrants" That was even better. No wonder they wanted rid of him. They weren't getting funding for him and he had no civil rights. Carl stuck out his hand to seal the deal, telling the boy that he had to negotiate to buy him from the Convention. Just for business reasons, he would try to lowball it so he shouldn't take offense. As it turned out, the negotiations were ridiculously easy. "We can only afford to pay $500" the clergy man said. Carl had to bite back the laughter. The fucking idiot was going to pay him. It was rich. So, he really was stupid. But, so that the dip shit wouldn't know he was being robbed, Carl counter-offered for $750 before they settled on $600. It was like taking candy from a baby. Carlos was just one piece of ass Carl arranged for Sebastian but he had a plan for him. This kid would be introduced to the world at the Key's Challenge, the Olympics of Sex. Carl had a plan and just needed the talent to pull it off. The next of Carl's three prizes was his own son, Harry. Black Stag had first dibs on him but they foolishly passed. Carl couldn't believe his luck because Harry was a thoroughbred: blonde haired and blue eyed. Carl himself had been a stud in his earlier years and he was betting the kid would get the best of his genes but he got his looks from his mother. She had been popular slut from the time she was 16 but, in the fashion of women, her popularity was on the decline at 26. Since she still had 4 years on her contract and he was Black Stag VP at the time, she had been given to Carl as a bonus one year. It was the fact that Harry was born to a mother with time in service that gave Black Stag their right to snap him up first. Since they didn't, when the kid turned 13, Carl struck. Harry was signed up. All he needed was training. He had 9 months to do it before the Challenge. The last prize was Oliver, a waif of a boy just turned 11. But he had freckles and auburn hair and the price was right. The mother needed money. She had been charged with wantonness, habitual drunkenness and blasphemy. It was her lawyer, wanting to get paid, that had suggested selling the boy and she agreed, knowing even if she beat the rap that she would lose custody. The boy would have limited prospects in any event after years in the clutches of the Children's Ministry, basically either menial jobs or cannon fodder in the Western War. Of course, he wasn't actually buying the boy, not legally at least. He was taking a guardianship of the lad and was generously helping with a portion of her legal expenses, at least until the boy was safely in the Keys. None of the rules applied there like they did on the mainland. Carl didn't even have to worry about the contract until the boy turned 16. As his guardian, he could have had the boy start to work immediately as there is no age of consent with permission of a parent or guardian. Of course, Carl knew that not even that was necessary as 500 credits and a form was enough to get a waiver on the Islands. He did feel a momentary pang of regret when the boy tried to pack his Bible and Carl had to tell him that it wouldn't be necessary. CHAPTER 1 The event was held at the Black Stag Resort, the old Casa Marina, down by Higgs Beach. Carl Boettcher was only just shy of 50 but he had a lifetime in the flesh trade one way or another. After he had stopped performing in porn videos and gone into the talent end, this had been his home base. For nearly 20 years, he had found and trained them all: the staff here at the resort, the escorts, the porn models, all of them. But then he had been pushed out. Now he was the managing partner for the newest company, Sebastian, an integrated resort and porn production like the best of them. His, however, was not on the water but in town with absolute pure decadence to make the difference. Sex, drugs, gambling, vice of all kinds ran the economy and he was the first independent in a long time. Carl had gathered nearly three dozen boys to staff the Sebastian Resort over the last year. He and his partners had spent more than 10 million credits to build it on Duval on sacred ground, really, the corner of Duval and Petronia, in a more innocent time the gay corner. This event - the Keys Challenge, the Sex Olympics some called it - would be his unveiling. A thousand people would be there as spectators, all rich and all powerful, the movers and shakers of the Convention. Thousands, tens of thousands more, would see it on video or dowload on the internet. There were even a sprinkling of Catholic Leaguers there too, mostly clergy visible by their robes, and some from the Great Plains Confederation. They, of course, were the luckless ones. The Catholic League had taken Puerto Rico two decades ago and turned it into a pleasure isle, off limits to the public and secretive. Deseret had Las Vegas, much less spectacular than its glory days in the old States, but still the original sin city. Even the staunchly secular Pacific Alliance had a pleasure isle for it's leaders and Texas had taken enough of old Mexico to encompass Cancun. But the Great Plains had nothing. But they were welcome here. Their money spent. His partners had questioned his choice for the event but Carl was certain. He only entered three of them: Carlos, Harry and Oliver. He was going for quality over quantity. Those three will be the talk of the town. For some reason – perhaps malice- he was seated with Edwin Cruise of Black Stag and Talbert Rowe of Red Angel at the kick-off Producer's Dinner. A trio of teen girls were stripping on the small stage in front of them, bathed in red light. "So your resort is strictly gay?" Edwin asked. Carl hated him. Edwin had replaced him at Black Stag, recruited from the smaller, strictly heterosexual Turtle Bay Resort. "Nothing but dick and none of them over 21" Carl answered, vaguely eying the girls as they shook their titties, still in G strings. He picked at his overdone grouper as he did. "How young do you go?" Talbert asked "Found a little street urchin that's 7. He sucks like a vacuum cleaner." "The pedo crowd" Edwin snorted in disgust. "There's money to be made, don't knock it," Talbert replied, pushing away the fish. "But no pussy? Good luck with that." "It's a risk" Carl acknowledged. "But we have high quality dick for those that like that. My lead boy, Carlos,]is going to be Grand Champion." "Not a fucking chance in fucking hell" Edwin snapped. "A.J. McIntyre's got it locked up for a record setting 7th straight year." "How old is A.J. now? 31 or 32?" "29" Edwin answered, insulted by the question. Carl smiled. A.J. had been one of his prizes. He remembered taking his anal cherry when A.J. was just 11. The kid had screamed and yelled, pushing him away but finally took it. Bottoming was still not A.J.'s strong suit. But he could fuck. "How old's your boy?" Talbert asked. "16" Edwin laughed out loud, almost choking on his wine. "16? If it was pussy, maybe. But a boy? Not a fucking chance. How many under 19's have even made the championship round? One? Two?" "A.J. did when he was 17," Carl admitted. The total was more than one or two but Edwin was right. Boys making the Championship round under 19 was very rare and none had ever even placed, not even A.J. For girls, it was routine. There had never been a Grand Champion over 25 for females but only males had never had a Champion under 21. Carl didn't expect him to win but did hope that he would be in the Championship Round. The first round of the preliminaries for the males was a simple runway. Held in the smaller ballroom, each contestant walked to the end of the runway clothed, then stripped and got hard. After a nice turnaround, the judges graded them. The bottom third was eliminated. First up were the Under 13 contestants. Oliver, north of 11 now but still hairless. was the third one out of the gate, dressed in board shirts and a ripped T. "Ladies and Gentlemen, our next contestant is Oliver Pascoe, representing the new Sebastian Resort," the Emcee read out as Oliver practically ran down the runway. In his excitement, the boy had forgotten the number of times that they had practiced this. "Oliver is 4'9", 85 lbs and will soon be 12. So, Happy Birthday, Oliver." Oliver hurriedly stripped off his shorts and shirt, his four incher all ready hard. Carl had to motion to him to remind the boy to turn around. Oliver didn't so much as turn as he jumped into position, his pert little ass in the face of the judges. The crowd laughed appreciatively. Then, he gathered up his clothes and ran back down the runway. "A dark haired beauty," the Emcee said of Oliver as he got ready to announce the next boy, a black boy from Regency. Carl headed backstage to congratulate Oliver and to keep his spirits up as he waited. His performance was good. Admirers of that flesh wouldn't want him too polished. He found Oliver bubbling with excitement and still hard. Oliver smiled broadly. "I forgot to turn around" he exclaimed as he saw Carl. "It's okay, you did great." "Do you think I'll get to go on?" "You're the prettiest one here" Carl reassured him. Oliver ignored that, his attention being moved to something else. He grabbed a rubber dildo and held it up, "I've been practicing" Carl smiled and rubbed his long straight black hair that framed an angelic olive skinned face. "You'll do fine" As it happened, Oliver led the way among the Under 13's with 8.925 points. It was a remarkably high score for his age group and the next highest of his 13 age mates was the black boy from Regency, named Catfish, who got 8.375. Since the scores in the preliminaries are cumulative, Oliver was out to an early lead. They went to find Luis, Carl's assistant, who was getting Harry, Carl's son and now embarking on a career in sex, blond haired and blue eyed and long limbed at 14, ready for his trip down the runway. The plan for him was to dress in a version of a school uniform, khaki's and a pullover with sneakers. It would appeal to the fetishists. "Get yourself chubbed up" Carl instructed him as he waited his turn. "Think sexy thoughts." Harry rammed his hand down his pants and pulled on it. He had his eyes closed and thought dirty thoughts. He had trained for this for 9 months. He wasn't a virgin. He knew what it was to give and to receive. Soon enough, it was Harry's turn as a latino boy from Black Stag, Emilio, came running off. He was taller than Harry and had a hard body and a nice bush. But Carl was confident in his son and Harry had confidence in himself. "Our next Under 16 is Harry Boettcher. Harry is just 14 and the son of the beautiful and sultry Sarah Mainor and the legendary body man, Carl Boettcher. He is exclusive to Sebastian, his father's company. By the way, Sarah Mainor will be one of our designated partners, so place your bets if mother and son are going to get paired up later on." Carl watched him intently to make sure that he did it perfectly and he did. The boy took off his shirt, revealing his lean, undeveloped boyish body. Then came off the pants and he was in old fashioned tighty-whitey pants, a nice bulge apparent. The boylover's were creaming in their pants, Carl was sure. Then he stripped off his shorts, taking just the right amount of time. Carl was relieved to see that Harry had a nice semi, a good 6 incher and nice plump balls but limited pubes. The hair was sprouting at the base of the penis, making two swirls of hair and not quite meeting in the middle. He was only just barely old enough to ejaculate. Harry was proud of himself but he came in second, behind a black boy a month shy of his 16th birthday and looked as if he was 21. He was muscular, hard edged and very well endowed with a good 10 inches swinging below his legs. His name was Frederick and he was competing as an independent, looking for a contract not for a win. Carl didn't see him as serious competition. He would fall in the fucking, either able to do straight or gay but not both. The latino boy Emilio and a late blooming 14 year old Carribean boy named Tom were the real competition. Carlos they sent out in shorts and a T shirt, teenage cool. He had long brown hair and almond eyes, and he had begun to fill out nicely. He was the very model of 16. He knew how to work it, stripping off provocatively, making sure they saw the treasure trail of hair from his belly button to this crotch. His pubes were trimmed, a compromise between the natural look of the mainland and the shaved look of the isles. He had a pert round ass, and he leaned over to show the judges his hole. That move paid off, scoring him 9.925 from the judges, leading the under 19's and second overall, behind AJ. All three boys made it to the next round and Carl let them celebrate a little, limiting their champagne to a single glass but letting them have several bowls of a deliciously powerful sativa/indica blend that had an almost strawberry taste. It was the Black Stag's special blend, grown in their roof top greenhouse. The boys got their first taste of celebrity as men, and a few women, came by to oogle them and wish them well. They ate it up, of course. He even let them blow a hundred dollars each in the casino. They were young boys on top of the world. He put the boys to bed early, to let them get their rest. Tomorrow would be the masturbation round in the afternoon and beginning the oral round that night. The following day, they would continue the oral: giving and receiving fellatio and giving cunnilingus. The third day would start the fucking: top and bottom anal, and vaginal in a day and a half. After an awards dinner that night, complete with the contestants putting on a show, the championship round would start the next day. 105 men and boys had entered (and over 200 women and girls) but only a dozen would move on. One fuck, contestants choice. The winner gets 50.000 credits and the company the same. He sent little Oliver to sleep in the bedroom with Luis, his assistant. Luis was queer, of course, but favored big, beefy men and not little boys. Carl slept on the floor between the beds of Harry and Carlos, to keep those two little horndogs from climbing in with each other. Neither had cum in three days and they were feeling the horniness pretty bad but Carl wanted big loads tomorrow so they would have to suffer another night. By the time it was done, they would be fully sated. At noon, the Under 13's started in the Red Orgy Room on the second floor and the Under 16's in the Blue Orgy Room. Luis was minding Harry but Carl would be there by the time he went on, having bribed the Scheduler so that Oliver went first in his age group and Harry last in his. The Scheduler was a little surprised to be bribed in the younger male categories since he made most of his money on the older males and, of course, the female competition that was going on at the same time. But Carl knew his clientele. This was prime time for the serious pedophiles and he wanted their business. He circulated in the crowd, maybe a hundred of them, passing out his flyers for the Sebastian Resort. These men, and the vast majority were men, were who he wanted to get. Oliver was waiting patiently in this stall for Carl to get back. He fussed over the boys hair even as he squirmed. Everything needed to be perfect. Oliver was nervous, wanting to do well. "Do you remember what we talked about? About sticking your finger in your butthole?" Carl asked. "Have you cleaned it like I told you?" "Yes" Oliver said. They had practiced so many times. "Drop it and bend over" Carl commanded. He lubed up a finger and poked it in, coming out clean. Satisfied, he lubed the hole generously, so Oliver wouldn't have to during the show. "There is going to be a man and a woman in the crowd standing. Make sure they get a good view of you sticking your finger in there." "Not the ones on the couch?" Oliver was genuinely confused. For almost a year, playing to the judges had been knocked in his head. The judges were on the couch. But the newly elected Moderator of the Convention and his wife were in the room. He was either the most important or second most important man in the southeastern quarter of what had once been the United States, depending on whether you thought the church was more powerful than the state. Carl had his opinion but he also knew that the clergy, more than politicians, would be his main clients. "Not this time. Find the man and woman in the crowd. I want them to like you." The Emcee, a long service straight porn stud still fucking after 2 decades, stood up to announce the competition. "Ladies and gentleman, we are getting started with the under 13's, both boys and girls in this age group. As you know, the boys are not required to ejaculate because for most of them if we waited for that it would take a few years" The crowd laughed appreciatively at the small joke. They were excited to get started. Those here were into young flesh. "If you want to see spunk flying go for the under 16's or under 19's. But first up here is young Oliver Pascoe of the Sebastian Resort, brand new on Duval and a second soon to be located up at Islamorado soon. The staff is all male but men and women are welcome as guests. Oliver will soon be 12 but is hairless as he can be, a black haired little beauty" Oliver came out into the center of the room, naked, looking nervous, but fully erect. Carl sidled up to the Kenneth Jackson and his wife Esther, the moderator of the convention, and guests at sebastian for the event. "I think he has the perfect little boy body" Carl said. Esther nodded. "Oh, he's the one Kenneth wants most." "There are other cute ones" Kenneth said. "The black boy, Catfish" "He's a doll but Oliver is grade A" Carl said "He is" Esther agreed. Oliver was a mess though. He had lube all over his bald crotch but he was naked and lean, the perfect little boy body and a sweet smile and he attacked his dick with his hand furiously. For some reason unknown to Carl, Oliver preferred baby oil to stroke with and the excess made his skin looked shiny and sheen. By accident, it looked good. He didn't know how to vary it, play with his small balls or anything to make it more interesting but, oddly enough, his ferocity at self-pleasure made it all the more alluring. The boy liked the way his hand made his cock feel. Then he suddenly remembered. He stuck his hand between his legs and rammed three fingers in his ass, almost contorted up in an impossible fold as he jammed his fingers in and out rapid fire. Then, having satisfied that requirement, he went back to the hand on the dick. It was all so artless that it added to his charm, combined with his remarkable physical beauty. Oliver had his eyes closed and his breathing was ragged. His muscles in his torso tightened. His balls, empty of sperm, tightened up against as the boy's face contorted as if in pain. He was orgasming. It was a beautiful site. Angelic even. Carl had emphasized to him that when he orgasmed, he was done. Stand up and take a bow and run off. Oliver did, standing up and bowing, literally, as the crowd applauded him. He grinned broadly and ran off. "We will want him in our room before we leave. We can do it during the championship round" Esther said. Carl smiled. "Assuming hw isn't in it" "An under 13?" Kenneth said. "Not a chance. But I'd give a nut to be a designated partner for this age group, I'll say that" CHAPTER One Little Oliver, not yet breaking 5 feet and purely hairless, a black haired and green eyed charmer, had the first slot in the under 13 competition. Few of the resorts took the category seriously. Some, like Turtle Bay and Alcazar, didn't even participate. Carl Boettcher, the lead partner in the Sebastian Resort, saw it differently. He was going after the intergenerational niche heavily. In fact, he was seriously considering constructing a garden inn next door that would have a harem of prepubescent girls and some growing up too. That made his own dick quiver. After all, Carl had entered the sex trade himself at 9, the son of a whore, and had spent a lifetime in it, one way or the other. He knew talent and he knew sexiness, that thing that can't be bottled or even described. He was certain of it even if no one wlse was. He had everything riding on the resolt. But Oliver did well, very well in fact, scoring a 9.125, the first under 13 to get over a nine since AJ McIntyre did nearly 2 decades ago when the Challenge was young. Harry would be up in the Blue Orgy Room on the second floor. Like the Under 13's, the Under 16's was not a money category except for the girls. As befitting their station, they were downstairs in the theatre with a large crowd of leering men mostly watching them diddle their young teen pussies. The boys were something of an afterthought, more about rising talent than anything else. So, they were shunted off to the cramped confines of the Orgy Rooms. Those were what they were called, spaces designed to host an orgy. They simply had a large ottoman in the center of the room and everybody crowded around to watch a teenage boy beat his meat. As with all the competitions, it was filmed and would be available on the close circuit systems at all the resorts for another year. When Carl got there, Luis filled him in. THe scores were predictably mediocre. Frederick, the big dicked black boy competing as an independent, was leading the pack so far. Carl did have his eye on him. If he could hold up on the gay end, no matter what he did with pussy, then Carl would offer him a contract. But for right now, he wanted Harry to win the age group and not just for the resort but because Harry was his son. carl was proud that he was turning into a real swordsman. Luis had to break away to prep Carlos for his performance. A latino boy, Emilio, who Carl thought was serious competition, was getting near to cumming and Harry would be soon. Carl feared the kid was going to have trouble getting wood with all the people around and Harry was no better than half hard. He knew that wouldn't do so Carl pushed his son into a corner and got on his knees, taking his young prick in his mouth. For a split second, it pissed Harry off. He could get hard in a minute but then it didn't piss him. Before Carl had bought his rights, Harry had not had a close relationship and he liked that they did now even if it was weird that his own Dad would do things like fluff him. Of course, the whole things was weird: he was being fluffed so he could beat his meat in front of an audience. He needed to go out with at least a semi, if not hard and both of them knew that. They were in a corner and away from the eyes of the judges. Carl, after all, had sucked many dicks in his life and that this one was attached to his own son meant nothing to him. He had no morality and didn't want Harry to have any either. The boy representing Bacchanalia, a lovely ebony island boy named Tom, was finishing up, flogging himself with eyes closed and Carl had to admit the boy was a delight. He had just a ringlet of hair around his cock, which was uncut, and he stroked it well until he erupted in cum. The boy was still sticky as he trotted away, his dick still hard in the way that the young can do. Before Harry could go, they awaited the score. 8.475 wasn't a bad score for masturbation and it put Tom in third place for now, behind the independent Frederick and Emilio Santana from Black Stag. "Go for it" Carl said to Harry, slapping him on his firm behind. "Give 'em a show, play with your balls too now" Harry shrugged. "Ywah, I got it" he said The arrogance of the young, Carl thought. But you have to be in this line of work where you are naked and performing intimate acts in public and where you are the answer to someone's fantasy. BUt you got to be able to pull it off. Carl poured silicone lube on the boy's hands. "Our last performer in the male under 16's is Harry Boettcher, representing the new Sebastian Resort. He comes from a line of sluts and studs and he's got the body and dick to be a star for a long time. Welcome to the fuck biz, kid." Carl was happy that just being introduced, Harry stiffened right up so that he walked over to the ottoman he did so proudly and fully erect, his dick at a jaunty angle as he acknowledged the clapping. He got on the ottoman, settled in and then threw his legs in the air and took a hand down past his balls and rammed his fingers in his ass. He finger fucked himself for a few strokes and then took his hard cock in his other hand and started stroking. It was a nice touch. Something different. He was the last to go and the novelty was worn off. Harry recognized it. Smart, Carl thought. Harry liked being watched. He was doing this really intimate thing, something boys only do in private and he is showing it to everyone. He kept his fingers in his ass and massaging the prostate really did feel good. He looked around at the crowd, lots more men than women and the men were universally queer or bi. He wanted to give them a show that they would jack off to later. "Never do any one thing too long" had been Carl's mantra to them. Spice it up, vary it. So he took his fingers out of his ass and sat up, still stroking his hard dick. Then he stood up and walked over close to the judges. He jerked himself literally in their faces, three of them on a couch and Harry just in front. He walked and stood in front of each one of them, always stroking it. None of the others had stood up or walked around, thinking that they were wedded to the ottoman. But the rules don't say that. Carl smiled. He was glad the kid had the guts to do it. Then Carl was shocked. Harry went into the audience. He still stroked himself, turning away from anyone reaching for his dick but letting them paw his ass. He was only there for a minute, maybe two, before going back to the ottoman and sitting back down on it, raising his legs up high. His fingers went back into his ass. After a couple of minutes, he lay back and pointed his dick toward his chin. With a groan, his balls up tight, his dick exploded, geysers of semen shooting out. The first two spurts got up and nearly over his head, his hair sporting a few pearls. Then 4 or 5 more, his chest and lean belly covered in cum. "Gentleman, Harry Boettcher of Sebastian Resort" the Emcee announced as Harry trotted off. Carl was amazed when the score came: 9.25. It was an incredible score for a solo. The second round wasn't over all age groups but Carl suspected when it was Harry would be leading all males. It was incredible. Before they could make their way over, Luis and Carlos met them. He was finished all ready and had a respectable score of 8.675.