The heavy silence in the room was broken only by our ragged breathing. The choice Master had forced upon me was an impossible knot in my gut. Before I could even form a word, his voice cut through the tension, smooth and absolute.
”The session is over for today.”
The words were a bucket of cold water. Rohan and Aryan immediately stilled, pulling their caged cocks away from my aching flesh. We all slumped, the frantic energy evaporating, leaving us spent and hollow.
”You have all performed adequately,” he continued, his tone shifting to that of a CEO ending a board meeting. ”You will clean up. You will hydrate. You will attend your regular college classes tomorrow. And you will not forget your place.”
A collective, weary “Yes, Master,” passed our lips.
”But tomorrow is not a day off,” he said, a new, devious edge creeping into his voice. ”It is a field test. A practical examination of your obedience. Your task is simple. Each of you will find a random cock in the college washroom. It must be a senior. You will service him. You will make a video as proof. And you will send it to me by tomorrow evening. Understood?”
My heart slammed against my ribs. Public. A stranger. A senior. The risk was terrifying. The thrill was electric.
“Understood, Master,” we chorused, the commitment already coiling in our stomachs.
The video call ended. The room felt suddenly enormous and quiet. Without a word, we untangled ourselves. The dynamics of mere minutes ago—Rohan’s dominance, Aryan’s hunger—were gone, replaced by a shared, solemn understanding. We were soldiers given a mission.
*
The next day, the lecture hall felt like a different planet. The droning professor, the rustle of notebooks, the bright sunlight—it was all a flimsy façade over the thrumming anxiety in my veins. My caged cock was a constant, humiliating reminder of my true purpose here. Every time I shifted in my seat, the plastic pressed against my thigh. I was constantly scanning the room, looking at the older students, wondering, Is it him? Would I kneel for him?
My phone buzzed in my pocket. A message in the ‘Master’s Pets’ group.
Rohan: North block washroom. Second floor. Now. I found one.
My mouth went dry. It was starting. I grabbed my bag, muttered an excuse to the guy next to me, and practically ran.
Pushing open the heavy washroom door felt like stepping into a threshold between worlds. The sharp smell of industrial cleaner couldn’t mask the underlying musk of men. Rohan was there, leaning against a sink, looking cocky and impatient. And standing at a urinal was a tall, well-built senior I recognized from the cricket team—Vikram. He was still facing the wall, his back to us, finishing up.
Rohan jerked his head toward Vikram. ”He’s perfect,” he mouthed.
My hands were shaking. This was it. No Master on the phone to command us. Just our own training, our own need to obey.
Vikram zipped up and turned around, his eyes widening in surprise at the two of us staring at him. “What’s up?” he asked, his voice echoing slightly in the tiled room.
Rohan didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, his expression shifting into a mask of pure, wanton submission. “We have a request, sir.”
Vikram’s eyebrows shot up. “A request?”
“My friend and I…” Rohan began, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper as he gestured to me. “…we saw you. And we need to serve you.”
Vikram’s eyes flickered between us, confusion giving way to dawning, hungry understanding. A slow, intrigued smile spread across his face. He was enjoying this. “Serve me how?”
This was my cue. I fell to my knees on the cold, hard floor, the impact jolting up my spine. I looked up at him, making my eyes wide and pleading. “Please, sir,” I begged, my voice barely a whisper. “Let me taste you. Let me suck your cock. I need it.”
I could see the bulge in his trousers thickening instantly. He glanced at the door, then back at me, his desire warring with caution. “You’re serious?”
“Deadly serious,” Rohan said, pulling out his phone and switching it to video record. He focused the camera on me, kneeling at Vikram’s feet. “We need a video. For our… collection.”
That sealed it. The taboo, the exhibitionism, the raw offer of sex—it was too much for Vikram to resist. His hand went to his belt buckle. “Holy shit,” he breathed, fumbling with the button of his jeans. “Okay. Yeah. Fucking okay.”
He pushed his jeans and briefs down to his thighs. His cock sprang out, already hard and thick, curving slightly upwards. It was uncaged, real, and utterly intimidating.
”Look at the camera, Dhruv,” Rohan directed, his voice taking on the familiar tone of a commander. ”Tell Master what you’re about to do.”
I turned my head to face the phone’s lens, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Master… I’m about to suck a senior’s cock. I’m going to open my dirty little mouth and take his entire length down my throat. I’m going to be a good fucking whore for you.”
I turned back to Vikram’s cock, leaning forward. The heat coming off it was immense. I could smell his unique, musky scent. I opened my mouth, my tongue extending, and gave one long, slow lick from the base of his shaft all the way to the swollen, leaking tip.
Vikram hissed, his hand coming down to tangle in my hair. ”Fuck…”
”That’s it,” Rohan narrated from behind the phone. ”Get it wet, you filthy cocksucker. Get it nice and slick for your throat.”
I took the head into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the crown, tasting his pre-cum—salty and clean. I relaxed my jaw and began to sink down, taking him deeper, inch by inch. He was bigger than I was used to, and I felt my throat start to resist. I gagged, tears springing to my eyes, but I pushed through, determined to take it all.
”Look at that,” Rohan moaned, zooming in. ”He’s taking it all. His nose is buried in your pubes, sir. He’s such a natural-born slut, his fucking throat was made for this.”
Vikram’s grip in my hair tightened, and he began to gently thrust, fucking my face. The sounds were obscene: my gags, his groans, the wet, slick noise of my mouth working his dick.
”You like that, you college whore?” Vikram grunted, his hips pistoning faster. ”You like sucking a senior’s dick in the campus shitter?”
I couldn’t speak, so I just moaned around his cock, the vibration making him curse. My own caged dick was a throbbing, painful reminder of my place—here, on my knees, used.
”He loves it,” Rohan answered for me. ”He lives for it. He’s Master’s good little fucktoy, and he’s proving it right now. Are you going to give him your load, sir? Are you going to reward this filthy mouth for its service?”
”Yeah,” Vikram panted, his thrusts becoming erratic, brutal. ”Yeah, I’m gonna fucking cum. Where do you want it, you little slut?”
I pulled off his cock with a wet pop, gasping for air, a string of saliva still connecting my lips to his glistening head. I looked directly into Rohan’s phone, my face a mess of tears and spit.
“In my mouth, sir! Please! I need to taste it! I need to swallow every drop for Master! Please, gift me your creampie! I’m begging for it!”
