South Africa
Part 2

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The first thing that the juniors had to do was stand in a circle. One of them had a marshmallow shoved in his mouth by Ross, then he had to pass the marshmallow to the next guy, without using his hands, and so on, until the marshmallow had done the rounds of all the juniors.
As the marshmallow was being passed from mouth to mouth, a lotta the juniors were mumbling about how gross it was, but Ross just told them to shuddup. The funniest thing was watching the juniors trying to take the marshmallow between their teeth to avoid the previous guy's spit, and getting it into their mouths.

Then, as the marshmallow arrived back at its starting point, the original guy was told to swallow it. That was a newie for me… I'd never seen that trick before… and the kid looked as though he was gonna puke as he screwed his face, and forced it down his throat. It was totally fucking gross, but we seniors were pissing ourselves laughing.

After that, each of the juniors was given a particular 'job' to do. Carlos was told to strip, and, for a moment, I thought the poor sod was gonna burst into tears. The kid stood there with a semi, and not a single pube in sight. It was just as well that he did have a semi 'cause the dude had a really tiny, uncut dick. Then a tog bag was placed on the middle of the floor, and Carlos was told to make love to it. Even the rest of the juniors were cracking up at the sight of Carlos pumping away at the tog back like it was the horniest chick in town. And, fuck! did he ever get going! Once he'd gotten into it, he had a roaring boner. He was fucking the thing, and kissing it, for was all he was worth. It cracked everybody up so much, including Carlos, that another couple of juniors were asked to do the same.

When Wingnut's turn to 'perform' came around, he was asked to strip. That wasn't a prob for Wingnut, 'cause, outa all the juniors, he had by far the biggest dick, as well as his proud little bush of pubes… well, a dozen, maybe. He was also sporting a semi. Then came the big surprise. Ross threw a girl's mini dress at the grommet, and asked him to put it on. Wingnut slipped the dress over his head like a t, and stood there not knowing what to expect next. I had to admit that he looked fucking cute in it, 'cause he had really great legs. The dress came down to just below his ass, but his dick was causing the front of the dress to push out and rise.

"So what now?"

"You've gotta walk down the road to McDonalds, buy a burger, and bring it back."

"Fuck no! I'm not going into McDonalds wearing a fucking girl's dress!"

Wingnut didn't have a choice, though. All his junior buds were loudly encouraging him to go ahead, and the seniors were also telling him to swing his ass outa there, and get moving. One of the other seniors and I were told to follow the grommet to make sure he completed his 'task', as well as to keep an eye on him in case there was trouble. By then, his semi had deflated, but I could still see the shape of his cock beneath the dress.

When we got outside the apartment block, Wingnut wanted to sprint down the road, but his dress kept lifting, which forced him to walk slowly. The sight of him taking small, cautious steps had me cracking up big time.

After we'd reached the point where McDonalds was on the other side of the road, directly opposite us, Wingnut stood at the edge of the pavement for what seemed like ages, checking out the crowd inside the restaurant. His major prob was that there were other swimmers inside, and he knew that he was gonna be in for a major razzing the moment he walked through the door.

Once we were inside the restaurant, the joint erupted into raucous laughter and wolf whistles. And it wasn't just from the other swimmers… the regular crowd was laughing as well. Wingnut must've thought, "Fuck it," so he waltzed up to the counter and ordered a plain Mac. The burger only took a minute or less to arrive, but the wait must've been the longest minute of my li'l bro's life. Just as he took the Mac, a junior from one of the competing teams walked up to Wingnut and asked him if he wanted a date.

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you! You wanna step outside?"

"Piss off… I'm busy."

"The dress suits you… you should've been a girl."

"OK, you wanna step outside? Fucking c'mon, then!"

That's when the other senior and I stepped in, and put a stop to the situation before it got outa hand. Wingnut and the other dude were about the same size, and I figured they were capable of doing each other a lotta damage. Besides, the spectacle of Wingnut in a dress, slogging it out with another junior, would've been just too hilarious for words.

As we walked through the door of the apartment, Wingnut was greeted with thunderous applause, and a hero's welcome, which seemed at odds with the dress he was still wearing, so he promptly ditched it. By then, most of the other juniors had been initiated, so I missed out on seeing that… but it was worth being with Wingnut at McDonalds. That little stunt absolutely took the cake, and was one of the highlights of the tour. However, more was to come.

After all the individual initiations had been completed, the juniors were separated into two groups… those with pubes, and those without. Most of the guys had at least some pubes, though, and, one by one, they were asked to stand on a chair. Kev put on latex gloves, then smeared each junior in turn with shaving cream, before taking the saftey razor to each and every one of their crotches. Some of the juniors, including Wingnut, couldn't help getting a roaring boner as Kev touched them. Needless to say, Wingnut was totally pissed after having his pubes mercilessly decapitated.

"It's gonna take forever to grow those back! Fucking hell!"

"It'll help you to go faster in the water," Ross chuckled.

"Yeah, right."

Once the initiations had finished, a group of us headed for KFC where we bought a few buckets of chicken to take back to the apartment for a celebration. The juniors who came with us were glad that it was all finally over, and were feeling pretty hyped.

Next morning, it was down to the pool, and down to business. The heats took up the whole damn day, but each of the dudes in our team made it through to the next day's events, at least in one event or another. I'd gotten through to the semis for the 200m and 400m fly, while Mark and Ross had made it through to the freestyle and breastroke events. Wingnut had made it through to the 200m and 400m freestyle, breastroke, and butterfly, as well as the 100m fly. The damn grommet was swimming like a genius. The junior who'd given him grief at McDonalds had also made it through to almost the same events, and was a wicked freestyle swimmer. And, as we all anticipated, Brandon creamed all the heats he was in.

That night, some of us decided to shoot a bit of pool in the bar before having an early night. It was outa bounds for the juniors, though, 'cause the bar sold booze, so Wingnut and a few of his buds went to the movies. Meantime, I discovered that Mark was pretty handy with a pool cue, and he hammered all of us like a damn pro. It was cool to see that he was having a good time on the tour, though, and he was totally chuffed about his success in the swimming heats so far.

Friday's swimming was something else. We all had to battle like hell to get through to the finals. I didn't make the cut in the 200m fly. I came fourth, and only the first three were selected for the finals. Mark, on the other hand, swam like a damn fish, and made the finals in the 100m and 200m freestyle and breast events, while Ross got through all of his events. Wingnut won the 200m fly.

Throughout the day, though, it was impossible not to notice that the shaved juniors were doing a lotta scratching around their crotches. Mark told me to watch Wingnut. "I think he's got an itch," he laughed, obviously mindful of the convo he'd had with the grommet on the walk home from school a week ago.

On Friday night, we weren't allowed go out, except to get something to eat. The coach would've massacred us if we'd disobeyed his orders. So we lazed around watching TV. But most of us hit the sack pretty early.

The big day of the finals was Saturday, and the main event was the 100m freestyle, with Mark, Jumbo, and Ross representing our school. It was a total rave for the rest of us to have three of our swimmers competing in that race! Brandon was in it as well, acting like a fucking prima donna, and making sure that everybody was watching him.

When the race started, I could've sworn that Mark hit the water like a shark with an eating frenzy. Right from the beginning, he was neck and neck with Brandon, and Ross was right there with them. Brandon was the first to turn at the 50m mark, but Mark must've grown fucking wings or something, 'cause he hauled him in with each damn meter, and he must've touched the wall a good two seconds ahead of Brandon. Woohoo!

We all went totally fucking ballistic over Mark's win, while Brandon got outa the water, and threw his cap to the ground in disgust. He was pissed off big time, and we were pretty happy about that, too! OK, so he went on to win all his other events, but the 100m free was always his biggie. Mark was the fucking hero of the day!

Ross came second in most of his finals, and Wingnut won the 100m fly as if he were the only swimmer in the water! The grommet was also treated pretty much like a hero after that.

A lotta our guys did helluva well. I didn't make the first three in the fly, but I swam pretty well, and I wasn't too disappointed 'cause I was up against some pretty top guys. Besides, I was happy that my two buds had done so damn well. I guessed that those two medals were gonna have a special place on their walls back home. Ross creamed the 100m and 200m backstroke, which even surprised him 'cause it wasn't his major.

Saturday night, we were all allowed to go out and do our own thing. There was a disco organized at the pool hall, so we all rocked over there first. Brandon was present with some of his buds, but when he started to chirp, we decided to split. The coach would've gone fucking apeshit if we'd had a fight there, so we split to the Sports Bar. That's when Brandon made the BIG mistake of following us.

Mark had already organized himself a few short shots, and was totally amped by the time Brandon approached him, then shoved him.

Brandon didn't even see what was fucking coming. Mark must've hit him three times in the stomach before the dude even realized that he'd been pummeled. Then he crumpled to the deck. He was out cold, and winded, and his buds had to help him. While they were doing that, we scooted outa there pronto, or else there would've been a major rumble.

As we got outside, we saw the juniors hanging around, hoping that somebody might get them a beer. Some of them had obviously already managed to get one or two. It was then that I noticed Wingnut's eyes looking kinda glazed, and he was having trouble trying to walk straight.

"How many fucking beers did you have?"

"Two."

"And you're drunk!"

"Nope, I'm fine," he insisted before tripping, and almost falling ass over tit.

"Yeah, right."

I slung the kid over my shoulder so that we could get moving. Then, he did the fucking unthinkable. He puked down my back. His stomach was resting on my shoulder, so I figured that's what did it.

We walked around to the beachfront where we got some more food. Well, Wingnut was kinda walking, and Mark was pretty well out of it after the shots he drank. Mind you, all of us had probably downed one beer too many. If the coach had seen us in that condition, he would've annihilated us.

Sunday, we were allowed to go down to the beach where there was some pretty good surf, and where I managed to borrow a local dude's board. He was paranoid that I'd ding the damn thing, but he let me use it, anyway. It was totally cool to get back on a stick. Wingnut wanted to borrow it, too, but the guy was taking no more chances. Most of the other guys were content to body surf.

We left for home on Sunday afternoon, and most of us slept during the whole trip back. We were totally stuffed after all the swimming, as well as all the excitement. But it was a wicked week that I was sure none of us would ever forget.
 
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 Mark Part 44