BACHELOR PARTY ------ FIVE

After crossing paths with several acquaintances and numerous strangers, some of whom pulled out their phones and shamelessly recorded, the team, with Carlos stark naked in the middle of them, reached the van.

There, Manuel and Raúl took the front seats, while the rest climbed into the back.

“Come on, lads, let’s dress the captain for the flight!” Andrés said, pulling a plastic bag from a neighborhood Chinese shop out of his backpack.

“Fuck, guys! You didn’t exactly make much effort either, damn it!” Carlos exclaimed, adding, “What did all this cost you? Four euros?”

“Well, I don’t think even that much, hahaha...” answered the scrum-half, already almost drunk.

“Come on, untie him and let him put this on,” Andrés said, emptying the bag onto the floor of the van.

Carlos gave thanks that at least his outfit wasn’t going to be that typical pink tutu that almost 90 percent of grooms are forced to wear over their underpants. Nor a colorful little hat on his head.

It was a cheap gladiator costume. Bad plastic, bad fabric, and little else. Exactly the kind you find in Chinese shops for four or five euros.

“Right, this first!” the left back told him, handing him a piece of black fabric.

“But is this a men’s thong? A mesh thong, fuck! You’re going to take me around with my package in full view of everyone, you bastards!”

“Put it on, put it on...!” they all began to roar in unison.

Carlos slipped on the thong. A small mesh pouch in which his balls and cock barely fit, and nothing more. A dental-floss string around the waist and a dental-floss string that disappeared between his muscular, cement-hard buttocks.

“Show it, show it...!” the shouts continued until Carlos turned to face them, grabbing his package cockily, and then turned around, spreading his buttocks and showing the dental floss pressing against his asshole.

After that, they handed him a kind of little skirt made of leather strips, like those worn by gladiators in combat, which opened everywhere, leaving the package stuffed into the mesh thong partially visible, and his ass almost entirely exposed.

The outfit was completed by a short red cape that barely covered half of his buttocks, a plastic helmet with a red plume, and wristbands and anklebands made of the same material.

“Fuck, guys, this is really uncomfortable!” Carlos complained. “My balls are going to end up marked by this mesh, and the cape doesn’t even reach down far enough to cover my ass, you faggots.”

“You know the rules, lad, you’ve been at other stag parties,” Manuel settled the matter from behind the wheel.

The airport was packed with people eager to get away as soon as possible.

Carlos’s outfit did not go unnoticed, but it did not cause too much surprise either, given that it was a stag party, and headed ...