The door to Professor Pritam’s office washroom swung open, breaking the intense, private world he’d built around us. My heart, already hammering from his brutal fucking, seized with a new kind of terror. Who—?
But it wasn’t security. It wasn’t the dean.
Rohan stepped in first, his eyes blazing with a possessive fire as they landed on me, bent over the sink, impaled on our professor’s cock. Aryan was right behind him, his expression a mix of shock and raw, hungry awe. And behind them, filling the doorway with his athletic frame, was Vikram, a wicked, knowing grin on his face.
Professor Pritam didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow his punishing rhythm. He just chuckled, a dark, resonant sound that vibrated through my body. ”It seems your audience has arrived, Dhruv. Your surprise is here.”
”Surprise…?” I gasped, the word torn from me by another deep thrust.
”You begged so prettily for a creampie,” Pritam grunted, his hands tightening on my hips. ”But one man’s load isn’t enough for a slut of your caliber, is it? You need to be absolutely ruined. Filled beyond capacity.”
Rohan stepped forward, his fingers going to his belt. ”Master Ansh coordinated it all. Told us where to be. Told us what to do.” His eyes locked with mine. ”He said you’d be begging for it. So… are you?”
The reality crashed down on me. Master Ansh. He’d known. He’d planned this. He’d used Professor Pritam as the opening act. The betrayal was hot and sharp, but it was instantly drowned out by a tidal wave of pure, unadulterated lust. My caged dick strained against its plastic prison, a silent, screaming yes.
”Please…” The word was a broken whisper.
”Louder,” Professor Pritam commanded, slamming into me to punctuate his order.
”Please!” I cried out, the sound echoing off the tiles. ”Please, I need it! I need all of you! Rohan! Aryan! Vikram, sir! Please, fuck me! Use me! I’m begging for your cocks! I’m just a hole for you to use!”
That was all the permission they needed. Clothes flew. Rohan was naked first, his own cage discarded—a privilege granted by Master Ansh for this special occasion. His hard, uncaged cock sprang free, and he didn’t hesitate. He grabbed my hair, yanking my head back, and shoved his dick into my waiting, open mouth.
The sensation was overwhelming. Professor Pritam pounding my ass from behind, Rohan fucking my face, his grip brutal, his groans filling my ears. I choked, tears streaming down my face, but I didn’t fight it. I sucked him like my life depended on it.
I heard Aryan’s nervous gasp, then Vikram’s low, guiding voice. ”Your turn, newbie. Get that pretty mouth on my dick. Show me what Master’s been teaching you.”
A groan. The wet sound of a mouth at work. Aryan was servicing Vikram.
We were a messy, groaning, sweaty pile of limbs in that tiny bathroom. The air was thick with the smell of sex, sweat, and musk. Professor Pritam’s thrusts became erratic, his breath hot on my neck.
”I’m going to claim this ass first, you filthy whore,” he snarled. ”You’re going to remember who made you his.”
He plunged deep and held there, his body shuddering as his hot cum flooded my insides. I felt it, a warm, claiming rush that made me scream around Rohan’s cock. As he pulled out, his spend dripped down my thighs.
Rohan immediately pulled his dick from my mouth. ”My turn. On the floor. On your back. Now.”
I scrambled to obey, my limbs weak, my body thrumming with overstimulation. I lay back on the cold tile, my legs spread, Professor Pritam’s cum already making a mess beneath me. Rohan knelt between my legs, his eyes wild. He spat on his hand, slicked his cock, and without a moment’s hesitation, drove into my well-used, dripping hole.
I cried out, the stretch different from the professor’s—younger, fiercer, more desperate. ”Fuck! Rohan!”
”This is my ass now!” he growled, his thrusts a frantic, possessive rhythm. ”You’re my fucking creampie dump! Tell Master! Tell him who’s fucking you!”
”Master!” I shrieked, my back arching off the floor. ”Rohan’s fucking me! He’s claiming your dump! His cock is so deep! It’s stretching me so good! I can feel his fucking balls slapping against me!”
Vikram stepped over us, his own cock glistening from Aryan’s mouth. He looked down at me, at the wrecked, pleading mess I was. ”Open wide, cumslut. You’re not done.”
I opened my mouth obediently. He fed me his length, fucking my face with slow, deep, controlled thrusts that were a stark contrast to Rohan’s frantic pounding. I was being used at both ends, a complete vessel for their pleasure.
Aryan watched, his hand stroking his own hard cock, his eyes wide with overwhelmed arousal. ”What do I do? Master, what do I do?” he whispered, as if praying to the phone he knew was recording this somewhere.
Professor Pritam, now leaning against the sink and watching with a satisfied smirk, answered. ”You learn. You watch how a true slut takes his punishment. And you get ready for your turn.”
Rohan’s pace increased, his grunts becoming guttural. ”Gonna fill you up! Gonna mix my cum with the professor’s! You’re going to be so fucking full of us!”
He came with a roar, plunging deep, his own hot release joining the pool inside me. I felt the warmth spread, a second claiming. He collapsed on top of me for a second before Vikram pulled him off.
Vikram pulled his cock from my mouth. ”My turn in that ass. Flip over. Present yourself.”
I was shaking, barely able to move, but I obeyed. I got on my hands and knees, my head spinning, my ass exposed and dripping with the seed of two men. Vikram positioned himself behind me. He was bigger than Rohan, thicker. The first push was an exquisite, burning stretch.
”Oh god, sir… Vikram…” I whimpered.
”You begged for this in the washroom,” he grunted, sliding home with one smooth, powerful thrust. ”Now you get the full experience.”
His fucking was athletic, powerful. Each thrust drove me forward, his hips slamming against my ass with a force that stole my breath. He reached around, his calloused fingers finding my caged cock, pinching and pulling at the sensitive flesh through the plastic.
”You feel that, you little bitch?” he growled. ”You’re getting fucked by a real man while your own dick is locked up useless. This is all you’re good for.”
”Yes! Yes, sir! I’m just a hole! I’m your hole! Fuck me! Use me!”
Aryan finally moved. He came around front, his cock hard and weeping. ”Please… Dhruv… can I…?”
I lunged forward, taking him into my mouth, sucking him down with a desperation that shocked us both. I was everywhere at once. Vikram’s powerful strokes in my ass. Aryan’s gentle, then frantic, thrusts in my mouth. The taste of him, the smell of Vikram, the feel of the cum leaking out of me—it was a sensory overload.
Vikram’s rhythm broke. He slammed into me, burying himself to the hilt, and I felt the third hot flood of cum join the mess inside me. He groaned, grinding against me as he emptied himself.
As he pulled out, Aryan’s hips stuttered. ”I’m gonna… Dhruv, I’m gonna…”
I sucked harder, urging him on, my eyes rolling back in my head. He came with a broken cry, his sweet, younger cum flooding my throat. I swallowed every drop, milking him with my lips until he was soft.
For a moment, there was only the sound of our heavy breathing. I collapsed onto my side on the floor, a boneless, used-up mess, my body throbbing, my insides a warm, sloshing pool of their combined release.
Rohan’s phone, still propped somewhere, buzzed. Master Ansh’s voice, thick with his own pleasure, filled the room.
”Look at you. Look at my filthy, well-used boy. Dripping with the cum of three men. You finally look the part.”
I could only moan in response, my body humming with a satisfaction so deep it felt like annihilation.
”But you’re missing one,” Master purred. ”Aryan. Get your mouth on him. I want you to lick him clean. I want you to taste every last drop of what they put inside him. That’s your final task. And Dhruv… you will thank him for it.”
