Obstacle Course Humiliation

My name is Rob Marlowe, and I am a 22-year-old college senior. I've been told that I'm pretty fit. I'm 6'3" with an athletic build; I try to work out at least five times a week. I've played on my college's football team for the past four years, and I like to shoot hoops and play flag football in my spare time.

In spite of my stature and muscular build, I don't come across as intimidating. I think my wavy, sandy-blond hair and azure-blue eyes work in combination with my full lips to make my face look more inviting. Well, my girlfriends have always found my lips to be inviting, anyways.

This is the story of one of the most embarrassing days of my life. It's only been a week since it happened, so I'm still processing things. I could go into all the details about how my life has changed since the incident, but that story is still unfolding.

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A week ago, my friends and I decided to complete the obstacle course on our college campus as a way to celebrate our journey together -- you know, a final hurrah before graduation. The course was a bit of an anomaly for the college; it started out as something used by the ROTC, but was popular enough with athletes that the school took it over and opened it to all students to encourage general health and fitness.

Nobody killed themselves getting into tip-top shape beforehand. We drank, we smoked, we partied, and, setting aside the fact that our normal workout routines would be considered intense by any regular student, we generally just enjoyed the winding-down of our college careers. Even though everything my friends and I did ended up as a competition, this wasn't going to be a "competition" competition. Somebody would finish last, or wash out, and they'd have to buy the rest of us beers. The winner would strut around a bit and get a few begrudging cheers from the others -- not to mention the obligatory, halfhearted accusations of cheating.

Not halfway through the course, I'd developed some hindsight -- as in, maybe I should have taken the whole thing a little more seriously. The sun was beating down from the sky. I could feel the nape of my neck beginning to overheat. I wiped the back of my palm against my brow to remove some of the sweat that was on the verge of dripping into my eyes. I wasn't sore or exhausted, necessarily, but I was flaming out.

"Fuck, this heat is unbearable!" Tom said as he ran alongside me at the same pace. I took comfort in the fact that I wasn't the only one losing a step.

"This is all your fault, asshole," I replied.

"Hell no!" Tom exclaimed. "Declan was the one that suggested we complete the course one last time before graduation. I just wished we knew there was going to be a heatwave before settling on a date."

I nodded in agreement as I closed my eyes for a second to get a break from the harsh sun. My white T-shirt was plastered to my chest; I could feel the sweaty stickiness of the fabric against my pecs. I reached down and lifted the shirt for a few moments as if I were trying to conjure up a breeze to blow on my skin. The sun shone down across my pale, defined abs.

I heard laughing about ten feet ahead of us, which caused me to open my eyes. I could see Greg softly punching Declan in the arm. I wondered what could possibly be so funny at that very moment. I was in no mood, myself.

Tom, Greg, Declan, and I had all been friends since our freshman year. We attended a small college in the Colorado. We had become friends by circumstance after all having been assigned to live in the same suite; however, we formed a firm bond and continued to hang out with one another on a regular basis even after moving out of the dorms.

Greg, Declan, and I were all athletic, which was the way we'd bonded as a unit. Greg was on the football team with me, and Declan and Greg were on the wrestling team with one another. Tom would play sports for fun, but it wasn't a part of his identity. He could always be called upon to join an impromptu pick-up game, though, and, when it comes to sports, it's always better to bring an even number of players.

Greg and Declan were still about ten feet in front of me on the well-worn dirt path. Greg's broad shoulders and muscled back were exposed to the sun, as he had stripped off his shirt at the outset of the course. With no fabric from a shirt to absorb his sweat, it was cascading down the curve of his spine and drenching his shorts. I could see the peach-hued flesh at the very top of his ass crack. Greg had always been "that guy." I was sure it had never occurred to him that he shouldn't go commando to this thing, or, if he was going to, that he shouldn't wear white shorts.

Greg was practically my mirror image in terms of our body types, but he had sharper features on his face, and short, buzzed brown hair. Declan was a few inches shorter than Greg with a more attainable physique; he looked more like the attractive guy-next-door type than a buff Adonis. He had kept his shirt on to protect himself from the sun. It appeared to be as sweat-covered as mine. I could hear sporadic words from the conversation, but couldn't make out what they were saying.

"Only three more obstacles, right?" Tom asked.

"Yep, the barrier wall, monkey bars over that trench, and the muddy crawl."

I heard a soft voice behind me. I turned my head to see a petite redhead speaking to her friend. I didn't recognize her, but I thought the friend might be on the women's varsity soccer team. They were both in good shape, which made sense, since they were out here running this course on a Saturday instead of at a brunch, drinking away their hangovers from the night before.

The redhead was wearing a sports bra that showed off her small, perky tits. Her friend was wearing a crop top that was a little less revealing. I noticed that they were both ogling Greg. I felt a sudden wave of jealousy wash over me.

I had been carrying a bottle of water with me but had only taken a few sips. I hadn't consumed much, since I was too focused on enjoying the cooling effect of the water bottle as I pressed it against various parts of my body. My friends had gulped theirs down mere minutes after beginning the course and had already disposed of the bottles.

"I'll be back in a second," I said to Tom as I increased my pace to catch up with our speedy friends.

"Hey," Declan said as he heard me approaching. "How are you holding up?"

Greg gave me a quick nod as his dazzling smile spread across his face. His hazel eyes lit up in the direct sunlight.

"I'm doing okay," I replied. "I was just a little worried about Greg."

Greg looked at me in a quizzical manner. He shot a glance back towards Declan to gauge whether he knew what I was referring to. Declan gave a small shrug in response.

"Here," I said as I unscrewed the cap on the water bottle. "Your neck and back are getting super burned. You're going to be a lobster soon if you don't cool down."

"Really?" he asked as he touched his hand to the back of his neck. "It doesn't feel that bad."

I repositioned myself behind him as we all kept jogging at a decent pace. His skin was tanned, but it was no more aggravated by the sun than any of us.

"It's pretty bad," I said. "You need to cool the burn or else it's going to blister. I'm going to splash some water on your upper back since it seems to be worst there."

"Oh, okay," he said in an uncertain tone.

I poured a few drops of the water into my cupped palm before rubbing it against his shoulder blades. The warm skin of my palm felt like it was melting into his toned back. I moved my hand up to his shoulder which allowed me to grip him and steady myself as I ran behind him. I slowly poured a little of the water on his back and watched it glide down his spine. The see-through spot at the top of his shorts become bigger as the water mixed with the sweat.

"That feels great," he said.

"I think you could use a little more to really get ahead of a nasty burn," I said.

I slowly emptied the remainder of the water bottle onto Greg's back. It created a river along his spine and quickly doused his shorts. I watched as the wet spot grew to the point that it was almost covering the entire back of his shorts. The white nylon fabric was now clinging to his large, muscular ass. It looked like a juicy peach just barely hidden beneath a gossamer veil. I smiled evilly behind him; mission accomplished. I was already imagining how the two girls would respond once I moved out of the way. I suppressed a chuckle as I tossed the empty water bottle to the side of the path.

"I think that should help." I said as I patted him on the bicep. "I'm going to fall back in with Tom. You two are too fast for me."

"Thanks, Rob," he called out over his shoulder.

I rejoined Tom; he was staring at his watch. I don't think he had been paying any attention to what had been going on while I'd been with our other friends. He nodded to acknowledge my return when he finally looked up.

I glanced over my shoulder. The two women, on the other hand, must have been paying attention. The redhead had taken out her phone and had it aimed at Greg's ass, which was bouncing rhythmically as he jogged. Her friend looked over at me and smiled, as if to thank me for my actions.

I nudged Tom on the shoulder and pointed to Greg's transparent shorts. He looked perplexed, and squinted while he tried to assess if the shorts were actually see-through. A moment later, he quickly placed his palm over his mouth, stifling a laugh.

"I think Greg has a fan club," I said. "Look over your shoulder."

Tom saw that the two women were fixated on Greg's firm ass. He shook his head in apparent disbelief that they were either taking pictures or recording. I could hear the redhead chuckling as her friend mimed reaching out to grab Greg's behind.

"It looks like you have a fan club, Greg!" Tom shouted. "I've heard of a wet T-shirt contest, but never a wet shorts competition."

We both burst out laughing as we struggled to keep jogging. Greg looked over his shoulder. He furrowed his brow and pouted as he tried to make sense of what was happening. He could see the two women, but he didn't seem to register that they were filming him. He slowly reached his hand behind him and let it traverse his ass. His eyes became wide as his hand retreated; he looked over to Declan.

Declan slowed his pace and fell back behind Greg. Declan burst into uproarious laughter -- so much so that he had to stop jogging. Greg stopped too, once he began to realize what was happening. His face became red -- well, extra-red.

Tom and I quickly closed the gap before stopping to join the two of them. Greg was now grabbing the back of his shorts with both hands, as if he hoped that that might somehow change the situation. His biceps were glistening with sweat as he extended his bulky arms behind him.

The two female runners caught up. The redhead was still holding her phone is front of her and aiming it at Greg, even though his wet ass was now facing the opposite direction.

"Nice ass!" her friend called out as they passed us.

Tom and I lost it, and that set Declan off again. I was doubling over, cradling my abs; I was already winded, so laughing was taking all my energy.

Greg's demeanor changed from confusion and embarrassment to frustration. His sharp jawline became more defined as he clenched it. He began to scowl in my direction as he placed both of his arms across his chest. I wondered if he was more upset about what I had done, or that we were all laughing at him. Greg was not one to be ashamed of his body, but he despised being the butt of a joke.

"Very funny, guys!" he said as he rolled his eyes.

Tom, Declan, and I slowly stopped laughing; it took Declan the longest to calm himself. I looked at Greg with a slight grin. He appeared less than thrilled with my expression.

"Declan, give me your shirt!" Greg commanded.

Declan stripped his shirt from his body without a second thought. His torso was taut and glistening. He tossed Greg his shirt, and then rubbed some of the sweat off of the sparse black hair on his chest. Greg stuffed the top of the shirt down the back of his shorts so it cascaded over the back like a small cape.

"Let's go, Declan," he huffed.

Greg started to jog away. Declan feigned a grimace in recognition of Greg's sour reaction to the prank before sprinting off to join him.

"I guess we should give him some space," I said. "It was funny though, right?"

"I thought it was hilarious," Tom replied.

We both began to jog while being mindful to leave about ten feet between us and our friends. I could hear Greg and Declan whispering. I figured Greg must be complaining about me. He looked over his shoulder for a second with a glare.

"We're getting close to the wall obstacle," I said.

As we turned a corner on the path, I could see the wall; it was approximately fifteen feet tall and blocked the path. It was one of those obstacles that was meant to be conquered as a team. I was wondering if perhaps I would be positioned to climb it last so Greg and Declan could leave me behind. I could always walk around it, but I knew they would find a way to use that to call me weak.

Greg and Declan stopped when they reached the wall. Tom and I joined a few seconds later. Greg seemed far less upset than he had been earlier. The scowl was gone and his jaw had relaxed.

"Hey, bro," I said. "It was just a joke. It wasn't serious."

"I get it," he replied with a smile. "Who doesn't love a joke?"

I wondered if he thought he would look like a poor sport if he pouted. Greg's reactions to classic jock horseplay had always been unpredictable. As far as I knew, though, he never held a grudge. Seemingly at random, he'd get incredibly butthurt or angry at a prank or joke, but then be over it in an hour or so later -- sometimes even sooner.

"Okay," Declan said, "the plan is that I'll climb onto Greg's shoulders, and I should be able to grip the lip of the wall, then I'll pull myself up. Then Tom can use Greg as a vault and I'll pull him up. Next, we'll have Rob join us, since it will be easier to hoist him up with two of us. Finally, Greg will go last since he can get the most height when jumping. Rob and I will each grab a hand so we can yank him to the top."

I saw Greg and Tom nodding. I was just happy that I wasn't going last. I supposed they weren't planning on ditching me after all. I was sure Greg would find another way to screw with me later, though.

Greg crouched near the wall as Declan carefully stood on his shoulders. Tom walked over to offer Declan a hand to keep him from wobbling as Greg slowly rose to his feet. Declan reached for the top of the wall but it was still a bit too far from his grasp. I walked over and stood next to Greg. I reached up and locked my arms, making a cupped step with both of my palms. Declan carefully moved from Greg's shoulder onto the platform I was creating.

My arms buckled a little as Declan placed his foot into my palm. I think he could sense the lack of stability, because he quickly grabbed onto the edge of the wall and scurried up. I let out a sigh of relief as I dropped my arms back down to my sides.

Tom used Greg to get his needed boost and was quickly pulled up the wall by Declan, who was hanging over the edge. Drops of sweat were falling onto my shoulders from Declan's pecs as he looked down at us.

Greg and I started at each other for a moment. I wondered if he was still pissed. I couldn't make out much from his face; it seemed as if his features were frozen into place.

I could hear Tom laughing. I quickly looked up to see Declan giving him a light punch in his arm. Greg was now crouching down in front on me.

"Are you two ready?" I called out.

"Whenever you are," Declan replied.

I slowly steadied myself on Greg's shoulders. My face and chest were facing the wall. I was using my palms to try to stabilize myself as Greg began to stand from his crouched position. The white faux-wood wall felt warm beneath my palms. Greg was becoming less wobbly as he finally reached a full standing position, and once he locked his knees, he felt rock-solid beneath me.

I looked up, and saw Declan reaching down for my left hand and Tom for my right I pushed my palms up the wall. I lifted my left hand; Declan wrapped his mitt around my wrist, and I reciprocated. Feeling more supported, I did the same with Tom. My wrists felt constrained by their grasps.

"Okay," I said. "Pull guys!"

Nothing happened. I could see Declan smirking. I wondered what was going on. Suddenly, I felt as if I was losing my footing. I realized that Greg was lowering himself. He was literally leaving me hanging. I didn't put two and two together. I really should have.

"Greg," I called out. "You need to come back. I don't think they can pull me up."

I turned my head over my left shoulder. Greg was standing there, staring at me. He pulled Declan's shirt out of his pants and used it to wipe the sweat from his body. His small, pink nipples hardened as he wicked the sweat away; he flexed his large biceps as he rubbed them down.

"Dude!" I yelled. "What are you doing?"

He ignored me. I tried to use my feet to climb to wall but I couldn't get any traction with my sneakers. I wondered if my friends were even trying to pull at this point. I was less than a body-length from the ground; I figured maybe they'd just let go.

Greg stared up towards a tree near to edge of the path. It was dense with branches and foliage. He balled up the T-shirt and shot it like a basketball into the tree. It got caught on a branch rather than falling to the ground.

"Nothing but net!" he exclaimed.

I was really confused. I questioned whether his pants had dried. It still was a fucking bizarre thing to do. I watched as he started to walk back towards me. My stomach turned; I was getting a little worried.

I felt one of his hands grasp around my ankle. It was hanging at about the height of his neck. I seriously doubted that he was going to place his hands under my feet and push me up closer to the top of the wall.

"Pull!" I said to Declan and Tom. "Please, pull guys!"

They both laughed. Another drop of sweat from Declan's chest dripped down and landed on my lips. I used my tongue to clear it away; it was warm and salty.

Thwack! I shook as a felt a hard smack against my ass. I realized that Greg had jumped up just enough to give me a firm open-palmed spank. I tensed my ass cheeks in response to his unwanted touch.

"Really?" I asked. "A spanking? You are such a child."

I couldn't see him because of the fact that he was positioned directly behind me. I felt his hand grasp my ankle again. He started to slide it up my calf; the hair on my skin stood up in reaction to his soft hands. Unexpectedly, I felt the fingertips from both his hands tickling the back of my knees.

My body shook as a jolt of energy went through it. I suppressed my urge to laugh; I had always been oddly ticklish on the back on my knees.

I could feel something happening at the waist at the back of my shorts. Again, I didn't make the connection right away, though I wouldn't have been able to do much besides whine if I had. I felt my shorts being yanked down my legs. They were hanging down by my ankles.

I tried to pull away from the grips that Declan and Tom had on me, but they just locked their hands around my wrists with even greater force. I started to realize that they weren't going to let go.

Greg's fingertips began to stroke the back of my knees again, almost as if he knew I was ticklish and was taunting me. I felt his fingers slip under the lower hem of my blue plaid boxer shorts. The waistband of my boxers started to pull away from my body.

"Greg, you don't have to do this!" I yelled. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have done that thing with the water earlier."