The floorboard’s groan was a death knell. They froze, a tangle of limbs and guilt, their frantic cleaning brought to a heart-stopping halt. Nishant’s tongue was still pressed against Anshu’s heated skin. Anshu’s fingers were still dug into the sheets.
The door swung open.
Ansh filled the doorway, his silhouette massive and still. He didn’t speak. He just watched them. His dark eyes tracked from Nishant’s face, buried between Anshu’s ass cheeks, down to the fresh, glistening trail of Anshu’s release seeping from Nishant’s well-used hole. The air in the room curdled.
Anshu scrambled, trying to get up, to explain, but a single, sharp tutting sound from Ansh stopped him cold.
“Don’t you fucking move,” Ansh said, his voice dangerously calm. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft, final click. “I leave for five minutes. Five minutes. And I find my property defacing itself.”
He walked to the foot of the bed, his gaze a physical weight. “I gave you a simple command. Do not seek your own pleasure. And what did you do? You not only sought it, you fucking wallowed in it. You tried to wash my mark off each other. You think your little tongues can erase me?” He chuckled, a low, menacing sound. “Get on your knees. Both of you. At the edge of the bed. Now.”
They moved like puppets, their strings pulled by the sheer force of his will. They slid off the bed, their knees hitting the hardwood floor with twin thuds. They knelt side-by-side, facing him, their heads bowed.
Ansh unbuckled his pants, freeing his already hard cock. It was thick and heavy, jutting out with an arrogant promise. He stroked it slowly, his eyes crawling over their shamed, trembling forms.
“Look at you. Two little whores who can’t follow a simple order. You need a firmer hand. You need to be reminded.” His eyes locked onto Nishant. “You. Crawl onto the bed. On your hands and knees. Present that ass. The one you just let him fuck without my permission.”
Nishant obeyed, his movements clumsy with fear. He got into position, his ass in the air, the evidence of his and Anshu’s transgression still shining on his thighs.
“Anshu,” Ansh commanded, his voice dropping to a vicious whisper. “Get behind him. Get your fucking cock hard. You’re going to fuck him. And you’re going to do it while I watch.”
Anshu’s eyes widened, but he didn’t hesitate. He moved behind Nishant, his hands trembling as he positioned himself. He was soft, the fear leaching the arousal from his body.
“What’s the matter?” Ansh taunted, stepping closer. “Not so eager now? Not so brave without a closed door between us? Get. Hard.”
Anshu whimpered, fisting his own cock, trying to coax life back into it under Ansh’s unforgiving stare.
“Pathetic,” Ansh spat. He looked at Nishant’s waiting hole. “Look at that. Still gaping from his pathetic little load. Still wet from his pathetic little tongue.” He spat onto his own fingers, then roughly slicked Anshu’s cock with the saliva. “There. Now fuck him. Do it.”
Anshu pressed forward, the head of his cock nudging Nishant’s entrance. It was still loose, still slick from their earlier passion, and it slid in with a wet, shameful ease. Nishant gasped, the sensation now a mockery of the intimacy they’d just shared.
“That’s it,” Ansh murmured, resuming his slow stroking. “Ride that dick, Nishant. Show me how much you love his cock. Show me how you bucked and begged for it when you thought I wasn’t watching.”
Nishant began to move, a slow, reluctant rocking back onto Anshu’s length. Every movement was agony, a performance under the microscope of Ansh’s scorn.
“You like that?” Ansh asked, his voice dripping with false curiosity. “You like his little dick stretching your well-fucked hole? Or are you just a greedy slut who’ll take any cock that’s offered?”
“Daddy, please,” Nishant whimpered.
“Please what?” Ansh snapped. “Please let you come? You don’t get to come. You lost that privilege. You’re just a warm-up act.” He took another step, his own cock now level with Nishant’s face. “Open.”
Nishant opened his mouth, and Ansh shoved the fat head past his lips. “Suck. Clean my dick while your boyfriend fucks you. Multitask, you little whore.”
The dual sensations were overwhelming. Anshu’s cock sliding in and out of his ass, the familiar, intimidating weight of Ansh on his tongue. He sucked obediently, his eyes watering.
“Look at this depravity,” Ansh grunted, fucking Nishant’s mouth in short, shallow thrusts. “My perfect little fuckhole, getting railed by second-best. It’s almost sad. You need a real fucking.”
He pulled his cock from Nishant’s mouth with a pop. “Anshu. Get off him.”
Anshu pulled out, his cock slipping free with a wet sound. He stayed on his knees, confused.
Ansh moved behind Nishant, his hands gripping Nishant’s hips, his own thick crown pressing against the stretched, wet entrance. “You think that felt good?” he snarled. “You have no idea.”
He drove forward in one brutal, unforgiving thrust, burying himself to the hilt. Nishant screamed, the sound muffled by the mattress as his body was slammed forward. The stretch was immense, brutal, a burning claim that overwrote every other sensation.
“This is what you need!” Ansh roared, setting a punishing pace from the first moment. Each thrust was a piston-driven slam, jolting Nishant’s entire body. “This is what reminds you who you belong to! My cock! My fucking seed! Not his!”
He fucked with a animalistic fury, the bed rocking violently. Nishant was sobbing, his fingers clawing at the sheets, his world reduced to the devastating, all-consuming invasion.
“You’re nothing without me!” Ansh growled, his hands digging bruises into Nishant’s skin. “You’re an empty hole begging to be filled! A fucking vessel! And I’m going to pump you so full of my cum, you’ll forget his name! You’ll forget your own! You’ll only know mine!”
The filthy, degrading promises twisted with the overwhelming pleasure, pushing Nishant toward a peak he wasn’t allowed to have. He was a live wire, every nerve ending screaming.
Ansh’s rhythm became frantic, erratic. He was close. With a final, brutal slam, he buried himself deep and held, his body shuddering. A raw, guttural groan was torn from his chest as he emptied himself, a hot, seemingly endless flood that filled Nishant to overflowing.
He stayed there for a long moment, panting, his weight heavy on Nishant’s back. Then, slowly, he pulled out. The sound was wet, obscene. A gush of his release followed immediately, dripping down Nishant’s thighs.
Ansh stepped back, tucking his soft cock away. He looked down at Nishant, who was trembling and crying softly into the sheets, then turned his gaze to Anshu, who was still kneeling, watching with wide, terrified eyes.
“Now,” Ansh said, his voice returning to that terrifying, calm monotone. He pointed a finger at Anshu’s soft, neglected cock, then at Nishant’s dripping, used hole. “Clean it.”
Anshu blinked, confused.
“Not with your tongue, you stupid boy,” Ansh clarified, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “With your mouth. I want you to suck his dick clean. I want you to taste every drop of my cum as it leaks out of my property. Get over there and swallow it.
The silence after Ansh’s command was absolute, broken only by the slick, wet sound of his cum dripping from Nishant onto the floorboards. Anshu stared at the mess, his mind reeling from the command. Swallow it.
“You heard me,” Ansh said, his voice a low thrum of power. He hadn’t moved from his spot, a king observing his subjects. “Your friend is leaking my property. Clean it up. Suck it out of him.”
Anshu crawled forward on his knees, the hardwood digging into them. He stopped behind Nishant, whose entire body was trembling, his face still buried in the mattress. The sight was both humiliating and deeply erotic—Nishant’s ass was glistening, reddened from the brutal fucking, a steady trickle of white making a slow path down his inner thigh.
Anshu leaned in, his heart hammering against his ribs. The scent was overwhelming—musky, salty, the pure, potent essence of Ansh. He opened his mouth, his tongue extending, and caught the next warm drop as it fell.
A low, approving sound came from Ansh. “That’s it. Catch every fucking drop. You wanted to taste him so badly? Now you get a direct tap.”
Anshu obeyed, his tongue lapping at the source. He pressed his mouth against Nishant’s swollen rim, sucking gently. The taste flooded his senses, rich and thick. Nishant jerked, a muffled sob escaping him.
“Is my cum too good for you, Nishant?” Ansh asked, his tone conversational, even amused. “Does it hurt his feelings that you’re crying while he eats my load from your ass? Look at him, you selfish bitch. Look at what you’re making him do.”
Nishant turned his head to the side, his cheek scraping against the sheets. His eyes, wet with tears, met Anshu’s. The shame in them was a physical force.
“Don’t look at him with pity,” Ansh snapped. “Look at him with gratitude. He’s your fucking cleanup crew. The janitor for my cum. Now get up. Both of you. We’re taking this party to the bathroom. I want to see this filth under the lights.”
He turned and walked out, expecting them to follow. They scrambled to their feet, legs unsteady, and trailed him down the hall. The bathroom was stark, all white tile and chrome, a brutal contrast to the dark bedroom. The fluorescent light was unforgiving, highlighting every tremor, every shiny track of fluid on their skin.
Ansh leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. His gaze was a physical weight. “On the floor. In the middle. Now.”
They sank to the cold tile, facing each other.
“Anshu. You remember your job. You’re the cleaner. Nishant. You’re the fucking dish. Get to work. I want him spotless. Use your mouth. Use your tongue. I want to hear you swallowing.”
Anshu didn’t need to be told twice. He pushed Nishant onto his back, his legs folding up. He dove between them, his mouth latching onto Nishant’s hole with a desperate hunger. He wasn’t just obeying now; he was claiming this, owning his role. His tongue speared deep, fucking into the loosened channel, lapping up the lingering remains of Ansh’s seed. The flavor was intoxicating, a direct line to the source of his submission.
Nishant cried out, his hands flailing before gripping his own hair, his back arching off the cold floor. “Fuck… Anshu…”
“Listen to that,” Ansh murmured, his hand stroking the obvious bulge in his pants. “He’s crying your name while you eat my cum from his ass. That’s a special kind of fucked up. You’re a fucking artist, boy.”
Anshu moaned around the mouthful of Nishant, the vibration wringing another broken sound from the boy beneath him. He sucked and licked with a fervor that was its own form of worship, cleaning every fold, every crevice, until Nishant was shaking apart.
“Switch,” Ansh commanded, his voice tight.
They moved in a daze. Now Nishant was between Anshu’s legs, his tongue returning the favor, licking and sucking at Anshu’s own wetness, the mixed taste of their submission. Ansh watched, his breathing growing heavier, his fingers working the button of his jeans.
“Enough.” The word cracked through the room. “New position. Nishant, on your hands and knees. Anshu, behind him. I want you inside him. Now.”
They moved into place, their bodies slick with sweat. Anshu pressed against Nishant’s entrance, his cock hard and eager. He pushed in smoothly, the way now well-prepared, and began to fuck him with slow, deep rolls of his hips.
Ansh moved behind Anshu. He wasn’t undressed. He simply unbuckled his belt, the leather sliding through the loops with a whisper. He shoved his pants and briefs down just enough to free his thick, heavy cock. He spat into his palm, slicking his length, then pressed himself against Anshu’s body.
“You feel that?” he growled into Anshu’s ear, one hand gripping his hip, the other reaching around to spread Nishant’s ass cheeks wide. “You’re about to feel me, too. You’re both going to take me. You’re going to be so fucking full you can’t breathe.”
The broad, fat head of Ansh’s cock pressed not against Anshu’s hole, but against his perineum, the sensitive space behind his balls, rubbing firmly against him as he fucked into Nishant.
“Oh god,” Anshu whimpered, the dual sensation overwhelming. He was fucking Nishant, and the relentless pressure from Ansh was mimicking a fuck, a constant, demanding presence.
“That’s it,” Ansh grunted, his thrusts against Anshu’s taint matching Anshu’s rhythm into Nishant. “You’re my good boy. Fucking my other good boy. You’re both mine. My property. My holes.”
His hand left Anshu’s hip and his fingers, slick with his own spit, found Nishant’s stretched rim alongside Anshu’s cock. He pressed two fingers inside, alongside the shaft, stretching him even further.
Nishant screamed, the sound echoing off the tiles. The stretch was immense, unbelievable, a burning, full feeling that bordered on pain but was catapulted into pleasure by Ansh’s filthy praise.
“Look at that,” Ansh breathed, fucking his fingers in time with Anshu’s thrusts. “You’re taking two of us at once. My boy’s cock and my fingers. You’re a fucking marvel. A perfect, greedy sleeve.”
He curled his fingers, scraping over Nishant’s prostate at the same moment his other hand wrapped around Anshu’s throat, squeezing just enough to claim his air. Anshu’s rhythm stuttered, his thrusts becoming frantic, his own climax barreling toward him.
“I’m gonna… Daddy, I’m gonna come!” Anshu choked out.
“Do it,” Ansh snarled, his own hips pistoning against Anshu’s ass, the friction brutal and demanding. “Fill up my property. Breed him with your fucking load. Do it!”
The command was all Anshu needed. He slammed deep into Nishant and held, a guttural cry tearing from his lips as he emptied himself in hot, pulsing waves. Nishant clenched around him, his own orgasm ripped from him untouched, his release splattering the white tile beneath him.
Ansh didn’t stop. As Anshu’s cock twitched its last inside Nishant, Ansh removed his fingers. He spat one last time into his hand, slicked his cock properly, and positioned himself at Nishant’s ravaged entrance, now overflowing with Anshu’s seed.
“My turn,” he growled.
