With his eyes, Janton tried to beg his classmate for mercy. The collar around his neck, now a week old, grew tight across his skin with every thrust. The quickened grunts told him his request was denied.
To his left and to his right, the other unlucky losers of this afternoon's race around the ship were gagging and choking, desperate for relief. One week away from landing in Bengara, the Hunters started a new tradition of competitions among their subjects. The three winners of today's 12 kilometer run would be rewarded with a day off and the freedom to cum.
Janton and his fellow two losers, however, would be forced to compete for the last available bed in the observation deck. Two beds had been removed, and two more would be removed every day yet to come, a pervert's musical chairs. Anyone without a bed would spend the night blindfolded and kneeling, with their hands bound behind their head. It didn't need to be said what would happen to them in the night.
Janton needed a break more than anything. Three weeks since he was last allowed an orgasm. Two weeks since his holes were allowed even a brief rest. Spending the night as a bound fucktoy might break his brain. All he had to do was survive the facefuck competition longer than anyone else and he was free, just for a bit.
His 14 faster and stronger comrades were eager to use the three losers and wouldn't make it easy. They were desperate for any chance at release. They no longer used names, only numbers, and they barely thought of each other as human, just competitors.
Number 12 finished down Janton's throat with a deep moan, holding tight to the back of Janton's skull until his cock was fully deflated. He would be ready to go again in a few minutes, but was quickly replaced by number 3. Pale with a bright red bush around it, number 3's cock was the largest of the men who would be sent to Bengara, easily ten inches. Number 3 was muscular and tall and normally gentle, but today he was a man possessed. He grabbed Janton by the neck and flipped him upside down, Janton's tiny thighs resting against his chest. Number 3 pushed Janton against the wall and rammed his cock down Janton's throat with no time to breathe or think or exist.
In and out, faster and faster, No. 3 needed this throat around his cock more than anyone had ever needed food or oxygen. He pumped furiously as if the mouth at the base of his shaft might spit him out at any time. In and out, in and out. He saw his ten inches disappear as the writhing body in front of him gasped for air and the collar around Janton's neck bulged and stretched.
Janton desperately needed a breath of air. No. 3's cock had occupied his entire airway for what felt like hours. He reached around and slapped No. 3 on the ass furiously, trying to signal that he was still here. He was still alive. He still needed to breathe. He writhed around and No. 3 gripped him harder, pulling Janton closer by the nipples.
The struggling turned No. 3 on even harder. He licked two fingers and stuck them deep into Janton's ass without warning. The shock forced Janton to try to yelp and he accidentally took an extra half inch of No. 3's cock down his already stuffed throat. This was enough to put him over the edge despite his attempts to hold off, emptying what seemed like a gallon of failed babies down Janton's throat.
No new cock replaced number 3. Janton looked around and the recruits to his left and right were gone. Against all odds, Janton was finally -- finally! -- a winner.
Damarus walked over from the side of the room where he had been sipping champagne with the other Hunters. "Good job, slut. You finally made it to the big leagues."
Damarus offered Janton a towel to wipe the cum and sweat from his face and gestured for him to follow. "Only one bed left, could've been a rough night for you." They walked down the corridor towards the observation deck. Bengara was just beginning to come into view, a green dot in the endless dark of the cosmos.
"Of course, you won't be sleeping with your comrades in the observation deck." Damarus noted, dryly. "Those beds are all taken."
Damarus opened up the quarters that used to belong to Number 8. Photos of Number 8's family were still on the wall, his parents -- a doctor and a chef -- staring out into what had been unused space. "Congratulations, you've been upgraded."
Janton walked eagerly into the bedroom, stripping off his jock strap, ready for a good night's sleep. Inside, he found Canys and Arcanix, lounging at each end of the bed. "Glad you could finally join us, Number 7. I'm sure you won't mind if we enjoy you for the evening."
Janton sighed. Of course it was a trick. How else could this possibly end.
He slipped into bed and felt a large hand over his mouth and an arm around his chest. Two large cocks probed towards his ass, covered with an ample supply of lube. Janton pulled the pillow to his face and screamed into it.
One week until Bengara. He could survive.
