The raw threat in Ansh’s voice was a live wire. My turn. Nishant braced himself, his body screaming from the overstimulation, his hole feeling bruised and impossibly stretched from the combined invasion. He was a vessel, overfull and leaking, and now the source was coming back for more.
Ansh’s grip on his hips was iron, his weight a crushing, dominant presence. He didn’t ease in. He plunged. His thick cock speared into the tight, wet channel already occupied by Anshu’s softening length. The sensation was beyond anything Nishant had ever known—a searing, burning stretch that stole the air from his lungs. He was being split open, filled beyond capacity, every nerve ending screaming in a chaotic mix of agony and blinding pleasure.
“Fuuuuck!” The cry was torn from him, raw and desperate.
Anshu, pinned between them, gasped as the new pressure squeezed around his own sensitive dick. “Daddy… it’s too much…”
“It’s exactly enough,” Ansh grunted, his voice a low rumble against Anshu’s back. He began to move, a slow, brutal piston motion that fucked into the tight space, his cock gliding against Anshu’s inside Nishant. Each thrust was a seismic event, jolting through all three of them. “You feel that, Anshu? That’s my cock fucking his ass alongside yours. That’s my dick rubbing right against you. You’re both fucking mine.”
Nishant could only sob, his face pressed to the cold tile. The friction was incendiary. He was a single point of convergence for their shared pleasure, a live socket being plugged into by two sources of raw power. Ansh’s rhythm was merciless, each drive forward a claim that went deeper than flesh.
“You like being our little sandwich, Nishant?” Ansh snarled, his pace quickening, the slaps of his hips against Anshu’s ass echoing in the sterile room. “Our shared fucktoy? You’re nothing but a warm, tight hole for us to use. A perfect fucking hole.”
The degradation was a counterpoint to the overwhelming physical sensation, pushing Nishant higher. He was a vessel for their pleasure, an object of their shared desire, and the sheer anonymity of it—being used so completely—unlocked a deep, submissive thrill.
“Yes!” Nishant moaned, the word mangled. “Your hole… I’m your hole…”
“Damn right you are,” Ansh growled. He shifted his angle minutely, and the head of his cock scraped over Nishant’s prostate with unerring accuracy at the same time it pressed against Anshu’s cock inside him.
The dual stimulation was catastrophic. Nishant’s vision whited out. He came again, a dry, wrenching orgasm that racked his overspent body with convulsions, his channel clamping down viscously on the two cocks buried within him.
The tight clench triggered Anshu’s second release, a weak but pulsing trickle that added to the slick heat inside Nishant. Anshu cried out, a broken sound of overwhelmed sensation.
Ansh roared his triumph, driving home one final, devastating time. He held himself deep, his body rigid as he poured his own fresh load into the mixed mess, his cum joining Anshu’s, flooding Nishant to the brim. The hot, pulsing flood seemed endless, a final, possessive claim.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing and the slow, wet drip of cum onto the tile. Ansh was the first to move, pulling out with a slick, obscene sound that made Nishant whimper. A torrent of their combined release followed, splattering onto the floor. Anshu’s soft cock slipped out a moment later, followed by another gush.
Ansh stood over them, looking down at the panting, ruined heap of their bodies. His expression was unreadable. He tucked himself away, buckled his belt.
“Get up.”
The command was flat, devoid of the heated passion of moments before. They struggled to obey, limbs weak and trembling, covered in sweat and sex. They stood before him, naked and exposed under the harsh fluorescent light, unable to meet his eyes.
Ansh’s gaze swept over them, then down to the mess on the floor—a puddle of white slowly spreading across the pristine tile. His lip curled in a faint sneer of disapproval.
“You made a mess,” he stated, his voice cold. “My good little whores got carried away and made a fucking mess of my bathroom. Clean it up. Together. On your hands and knees. Use your tongues if you have to. I want every drop gone. I want this floor to shine. You are my submissive servants, and you will learn to take pride in your work.”
He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms, a silent warden. The humiliation was a cold shower after the intense heat. This wasn't the passionate degradation of the fuck; this was clinical, menial punishment.
Nishant dropped to his knees first, followed by Anshu. They didn’t look at each other. The tile was cold and sticky under their palms. The scent of their sex was thick in the air. Nishant lowered his head, his tongue touching the cool, polished surface, lapping at the puddle. The taste was salty, musky, overwhelmingly intimate. Anshu did the same beside him, their shoulders almost touching.
“That’s it,” Ansh murmured, a cruel smile in his voice. “Worship the evidence of your own debauchery. Lick my cum off the floor like the desperate little sluts you are.”
They cleaned in silence, the only sound the soft, wet strokes of their tongues. It was the most degrading act yet, reducing the earth-shattering intimacy they’d just shared to a chore, a stain to be erased under their master’s disdainful gaze.
When the tile was finally clean, they sat back on their heels, waiting for his next command. Ansh pushed off the counter and walked over to them. He looked down, his dark eyes boring into first Anshu, then Nishant.
“You’re not done.” He unzipped his pants once more, his semi-hard cock emerging. It was still glistening from its recent use. “A final act of worship. For me. Together.”
The command hung in the air, a final, degrading punctuation to the night’s brutality. Ansh’s semi-hard cock, still gleaming with their mixed fluids, was a demand they couldn’t refuse. They looked at each other, a silent, resigned understanding passing between them.
Anshu moved first, his head dipping low. Nishant followed, their foreheads touching as their mouths met around Ansh’s shaft. It was a messy, uncoordinated kiss around flesh, their tongues lapping at the salty, musky skin, cleaning him with a devotion that felt both forced and innate. They worshipped him together, a dual-mouthed act of submission that drew a low, satisfied groan from above.
“Good boys,” Ansh rumbled, his hand coming down to cup both their heads, guiding their movements. “My perfect, filthy boys. Now. The bed.”
They followed him back to the bedroom, their bodies aching, their minds hazy with exhaustion and the lingering high of relentless use. The air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat. Ansh pointed to the center of the mattress.
“Nishant. On your back. Anshu, get over him. I want your ass in the air and your face buried in his crotch. I want you to eat his dick like it’s your last meal while I eat your ass. And you,” he said, his dark eyes locking onto Nishant, “you’re going to watch me own him while you feed him your cock. Understood?”
They scrambled into position, a tangle of eager limbs. Nishant lay back, his head propped on a pillow. Anshu straddled his chest, facing his feet, and bent forward, taking Nishant’s half-hard cock into his mouth with a hungry groan. The position arched his back, presenting his ass high in the air, still glistening from their earlier activities.
Ansh didn’t waste a second. He knelt behind Anshu, his large hands spreading the younger man’s cheeks apart. He leaned in, his breath hot on Anshu’s sensitive skin.
“Look at that, Nishant,” Ansh growled, his voice a low vibration. “Look at this perfect hole, still dripping with my cum. I’m going to tongue-fuck him until he screams around your dick.”
His tongue, broad and wet, swept a firm, flat stroke from Anshu’s taint to his tailbone. Anshu jolted, a muffled yelp escaping around Nishant’s cock, his body tensing.
“Fuck, yes,” Nishant moaned, his hands coming up to grip Anshu’s hips, holding him in place. The sight was surreal, dizzying. Anshu’s mouth working his length, Ansh’s face buried between Anshu’s ass, the muscles in Ansh’s back flexing with each movement.
Ansh dove in with a focused, brutal intensity. This wasn’t the cleaning from before; this was a conquest. His tongue speared deep into Anshu’s passage, fucking into him with a relentless rhythm. The wet, sloppy sounds filled the room, obscene and raw. Anshu was writhing, his attempts to suck Nishant becoming erratic, his moans constant and desperate.
“He can’t even suck your dick properly when I’m fucking his ass with my tongue,” Ansh taunted, pulling back only to deliver a sharp, stinging slap to Anshu’s reddening cheek. “Focus, boy. Do your job or I’ll stop.”
The threat worked. Anshu redoubled his efforts on Nishant, taking him deep, his throat working, his tongue swirling. The dual sensations—Nishant’s cock filling his mouth, Ansh’s tongue violating his ass—were pushing him to the brink of madness.
“Oh god, Daddy… your tongue…” Anshu cried out, the words distorted.
“Tell me what you are,” Ansh commanded, his voice muffled by flesh.
“I’m your slut!” Anshu sobbed.
“What else?”
“I’m your cocksucker! I’m your fucking hole!”
“And what is Nishant?” Ansh’s tongue plunged deep again, making Anshu shriek.
“He’s yours too! He’s your good boy! We’re both yours!”
Satisfied, Ansh shifted. He spat once, twice, onto Anshu’s stretched entrance, the fluid dripping down. He pressed the head of his thick, hard cock against the wetness.
“Now for the main event,” he snarled. “Nishant, you watch. Watch me claim what’s mine.”
He thrust forward, not with a slow burn, but with a single, powerful surge that buried him to the hilt in one move. Anshu’s body bowed, a strangled scream tearing from his throat, the vibration traveling all the way down Nishant’s cock.
“Fuck! He’s so deep!” Nishant yelled, his own hips bucking upward, fucking into Anshu’s constricting throat. The view was incredible: Ansh’s muscular form pistoning into Anshu, his balls slapping against skin already red from impact.
Ansh set a brutal, punishing pace from the start. Each thrust was a full-body slam, driving Anshu further down onto Nishant. He gripped Anshu’s hips like handles, using him, fucking him like a toy.
“You feel that, Anshu?” he grunted, his rhythm never faltering. “You feel my cock stretching you open? You feel him in your mouth? You’re our fucking conduit. Our little three-way connection.”
Anshu could only moan, a continuous, broken sound of overwhelming pleasure-pain. He was being used from both ends, completely filled, utterly possessed. Saliva dripped from his lips, coating Nishant’s stomach.
“Look at him take it, Nishant,” Ansh growled, his eyes locking onto the boy beneath. “Look at how beautifully he falls apart for us. He was born for this. Born to be our shared fuckhole.”
The filthy praise, the visceral sight, the intense physical connection—it was too much. Nishant felt his orgasm building, a tight coil in his gut. “I’m gonna come… Daddy, I’m gonna come in his mouth!”
“Do it,” Ansh ordered, his thrusts becoming even harder, faster. “Fill his pretty mouth. Let me feel you pulse while I fucking breed him.”
The permission was the final trigger. Nishant’s back arched off the bed, a guttural cry ripped from his lungs as he released, his climax surging up into Anshu’s waiting, eager throat. Anshu swallowed reflexively, greedily, milking every drop as Nishant shuddered beneath him.
The convulsions around his cock sent Anshu over the edge. His own orgasm was silent, a violent, full-body tremor that clenched his channel like a vise around Ansh’s pounding length.
“That’s it, take it! Take my fucking seed, you perfect bitch!” Ansh roared, driving home one last, final time. He buried himself to the root, his body locking up as he poured into Anshu, a hot, seemingly endless flood that claimed him all over again. He held there, grinding deep, ensuring every last drop was deposited.
For a long moment, the only sound was their ragged, exhausted panting. Ansh slowly pulled out, a gush of his release following immediately, dripping onto Nishant’s legs. He looked down at the ruined, trembling pile of them—Anshu collapsed on Nishant’s chest, Nishant staring up with dazed, awestruck eyes.
A slow, predatory smile spread across Ansh’s face. “Now. Switch.”
