The cold wood of the hairbrush rests on my burning skin, a promise of more pain. Master Ansh’s breath is hot on my ear.
“Beg for it, Dhruv,” he whispers. “Beg for your Master to ruin you.”
The words are a key turning in a lock deep inside me. The fear melts, replaced by a desperate, aching need. “Please, Master,” I sob, the tears flowing freely now. “Please ruin me. Mark me. Make me yours. I need it. I need your punishment. I’ve been such an eager, filthy slut. I deserve to be ruined by you!”
The hairbrush lifts away. For a terrifying second, I think I’ve said the wrong thing. Then I hear the soft thud of it being discarded on the tile.
His hands, strong and sure, grip my throbbing ass cheeks, spreading me open. “Good boy,” he purrs, and the praise is more potent than any orgasm. “Such a perfect, begging whore. Now, let’s see how well you can multitask.” He turns his head, his voice rising to a commanding boom that fills the small bathroom. “Aryan. On the floor. On your back. Dhruv, get over him. I want your filthy mouth on his cock and your ass in the air for me. Now.”
I scramble off the tub, my body screaming in protest. Aryan is already lying back, his cock hard again, standing straight up from his lean body. His eyes are wide, fixed on Master. I lower myself over him, my knees on either side of his head, and guide his dick into my mouth just as I position my own leaking, punished hole over his face.
69. The position is intimate, degrading, perfect. Aryan’s tongue immediately flicks out, a tentative stroke against my sore entrance. I groan around his cock, the vibration making his hips jerk. I suck him deep, the clean, familiar taste of him a stark contrast to the complex cocktail of cum I’d just been filled with.
“Professor,” Master Ansh’s voice is like iron. “Your student’s mouth looks empty. Fix that.”
Professor Pritam doesn’t hesitate. He moves behind me, his hands gripping my hips, his thick, hard cock already slick with his own spit. He guides himself to my lips. “Open wide, Dhruv. Let’s see if you remember your lessons.”
I open my mouth, taking him in, and he thrusts forward, burying himself in my throat in one smooth, brutal motion. I gag instantly, tears springing to my eyes again. I’m packed. Aryan’s cock in my mouth, Professor Pritam’s fucking my throat. Aryan’s tongue is working me open, lapping at my rim, drinking the last remnants of my earlier use.
“Look at that,” Master Ansh murmurs, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction. “My perfect little fuck puzzle. All the pieces fit just right.”
The sensation is overwhelming, a triple penetration of mouth and ass. I’m moaning constantly, a muffled, gurgling sound around the two cocks. Aryan’s tongue pushes inside me, fucking me in tiny, shallow thrusts that make me clench around nothing. Professor Pritam sets a deep, rhythmic pace, his balls slapping against my chin with every thrust. I can feel Aryan’s muffled moans against my ass, his pleasure feeding my own.
“Rohan. Vikram.” Master’s command cuts through the wet, slapping sounds. “The other piece is feeling left out. Aryan’s virgin ass is looking very lonely. Stretch it open for him. Make him scream for us.”
I feel Aryan’s whole body tense beneath me. His tongue stills for a second. “M-Master?” he whimpers, the word vibrating through my core.
“You wanted to learn, boy,” Vikram’s voice is a dark chuckle. I hear the sound of a bottle cap snapping open. Lube. “Time for a hands-on lesson.”
Rohan’s voice is closer, husky with renewed lust. “Hold him still, Vikram. I get first claim.”
Aryan lets out a sharp, sudden cry that is muffled by my ass. His hips buck up, shoving his cock deeper down my throat. I know what’s happening without seeing it. Rohan is pressing into him. Taking him. Claiming him.
The realization sends a jolt of pure heat through me. We are all connected. A chain of pleasure and possession, with Master Ansh at the center, pulling all our strings.
Professor Pritam fucks my mouth with renewed vigor, gripping my hair. “You hear that, Dhruv? Your little friend is getting properly broken in. You like that? You like the sound of him getting his ass torn open?”
I moan an affirmative around his dick, sucking him hard. Yes. Fuck yes.
Aryan’s cries become higher pitched, a mix of pain and shocking pleasure. His tongue becomes frantic against my hole, licking and probing as if seeking comfort from the invasion. I can feel every one of Rohan’s thrusts through Aryan’s body, a series of tiny vibrations against my lips and tongue.
“Fuck, he’s tight,” Rohan grunts, his voice strained. “Tighter than you were, Dhruv. A fucking vice.”
“My turn,” Vikram says, and there’s a shuffling noise. Aryan gasps, a ragged, broken sound. The rhythm changes. Vikram’s thrusts are slower, more powerful, each one driving Aryan’s face harder against me. Aryan is sobbing now, tears wetting my skin, but his cock is rock hard in my mouth, leaking pre-cum that I greedily swallow.
“Such a good fucking boy,” Master Ansh whispers, his hand stroking my sweaty back. “Taking two cocks in your face while you get your ass eaten by the boy getting his own ass wrecked. You are a masterpiece of degradation.”
His words are a brand. I am nothing. I am everything. I am his.
Professor Pritam’s rhythm stutters. “Gonna cum, you filthy cocksucker,” he grunts, his voice rough. “Swallow it. Every drop.”
He holds my head still and spills his bitter load directly down my throat. I swallow convulsively, not missing a drop, my own pleasure spiking at the taste of his complete ownership.
As he pulls out, spent, Master Ansh steps forward. I feel his thick fingers press against my spit-slicked, well-licked entrance. “This hungry hole has been so patient. It’s been begging me since I walked in. It’s time it got what it truly deserves.”
He pushes one finger inside me, then two, stretching me, making me cry out around Aryan’s cock. “You want my creampie, don’t you, Dhruv? You want me to fill this desperate, fucked-out hole with my seed?”
I can’t form words. I just moan, a desperate, pleading sound, pushing back against his fingers.
“Use your words, whore.”
I pull off Aryan’s cock with a gasp, a string of saliva connecting my lips to his tip. “Please, Master! Please, fuck me! I need your cock! I need your creampie more than I need to breathe! I’m begging for it! Fill me up! Mark me inside! I’m your filthy dump, your perfect slut, please, I need your fucking cum!”
Behind me, Vikram grunts, his thrusts into Aryan becoming erratic. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill this tight little ass!”
Rohan is right there. “Do it. Breed him. Make him yours.”
Master Ansh replaces his fingers with the blunt, glorious head of his cock. I feel the pressure, the incredible stretch as he begins to push inside. He’s bigger than the Professor. Bigger than any of them. He stretches me to my absolute limit, a burning, perfect fullness that whites out my vision.
“This… this is what you were made for,” he groans, sliding home, his balls slapping against my oversensitive skin. “This fucking perfect, greedy hole.”
He starts to move, and the world dissolves.
