The Fresh Piece of Ass
The car ride had been long, the roads unfamiliar. When they finally stopped, Oliver stepped out into thick, humid air and a stretch of countryside that didn’t look anything like the city Mr. Amir had described.
He frowned. “This… isn’t where you said we were going.”
Mr. Amir smiled, too easily. “Plans changed. It’s quieter here — you’ll like it once you settle in.”
Oliver’s stomach tightened. The house ahead was old, shuttered, surrounded by trees that blocked the road behind them. No voices, no neighbors.
“Where are we?” Oliver asked again.
Mr. Amir didn’t answer right away. He just picked up Oliver’s bag and started walking toward the door. “Trust me, Oliver. You’ll be safe here.”
Something in his tone made Oliver hesitate before following — that uneasy feeling in his chest growing stronger with every step.
As they met at the house that Mr. Amir claimed he grew up in, A man with the white hair gave Oliver a brief, assessing look before turning back to Mr. Amir. “You took longer than expected.”
Mr. Amir’s jaw tightened. “There were delays. But we’re here now.”
Oliver hesitated at the threshold, glancing between them. “What’s going on?” he asked quietly.
Neither man answered right away. The house smelled faintly of old wood and something metallic. Shadows stretched across the walls in the dim light.
“Come in, Oliver,” Mr. Amir said finally, his voice calm but distant. “You’ve had a long trip. You should rest.”
Oliver stepped inside, his pulse quickening. The door closed behind him with a heavy thud.
Something wasn’t right — the air felt wrong, the silence heavier than it should’ve been. And as the two men exchanged another look, Oliver couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever he’d agreed to… he didn’t understand it at all.
“You were right,” the man — David — said, his tone unreadable. “His ass does look beautiful.”
He reached out, grabbing Olivers ass cheek causing Oliver to jump back, every muscle in his body tightening.
Mr. Amir gave a strained smile. “That’s enough, David.”
David let go, the smile never reaching his eyes. “Relax. I’m just appreciating craftsmanship." David grabbed ahold of the sort boys jaw, staring at his lips. "And some real nice cock sucking lips, you did good Harvey. Yes, this boy will do wonders. What's his name again"
“Harvey… where are we? What is this?” Oliver asked, his voice barely steady.
Before Mr. Amir could answer, the white-haired man — David — raised his voice. “Boys! Come down here! I want you to meet somebody. He’s going to be staying with us.”
Heavy footsteps echoed from upstairs. Three figures appeared at the top of the staircase, moving cautiously, almost in sync.
The first was Leo, slender and sharp-eyed, barely older than Oliver. He kept his hands stuffed in his pockets, gaze flicking between David and Harvey like he was trying to read the room.
Behind him came River, whose silence was striking. He gave Oliver a faint nod in greeting, his throat marked by an old scar.
Last came Henry, the oldest, broad-shouldered and watchful. He stood slightly ahead of the others once they reached the bottom step, as though shielding them by instinct.
David’s smile tightened. “This is Oliver. He’ll be one of us now.”
Oliver felt the air thicken around him. “One of… us?” he repeated quietly.
No one answered.
The silence that followed told him more than any explanation could.
Oliver’s voice broke as panic surged through him. “No… no, Harvey?! No—no, I’m not… this isn’t—please, what is this? Please don’t do this.”
He backed away instinctively, his heel hitting the edge of the rug. The room seemed to close in — too many eyes on him, too many unanswered questions.
“Oliver,” Mr. Amir said quietly, hands raised as if to calm him. But there was guilt in his eyes now, a flicker of something he couldn’t hide.
“Just listen—”
“No!” Oliver’s breath came fast and uneven. “You said this was your home. You said I’d be safe here.”
David sighed, the sound cold and dismissive. “You are safe,” he said, stepping forward. “You just don’t understand yet.”
Oliver shook his head, tears welling. “I want to go home.”
“You are home now, Oliver,” David said, gripping his arms tightly.
Something inside Oliver snapped. Panic, betrayal, fear — all of it hit at once. He jerked backward and swung his hand before he even realized what he was doing.
The sharp crack of the slap cut through the room.
David froze. For a second, no one moved. Then his head turned slowly, eyes narrowing with a calm that was somehow worse than rage.
Across the room, the three boys stiffened. Leo’s face went pale. River instinctively stepped behind Henry, whose jaw clenched as he watched David carefully. None of them spoke, but the air filled with a silent kind of terror — the kind that came from knowing what might happen next.
Oliver’s heartbeat thundered in his ears. He took a step back, realizing from their reactions that he’d just made a terrible mistake.
David’s voice, when it came, was almost gentle. “That,” he said softly, “was unwise.”
“You said you’ve never had sex with him, is that right?” David asked, his eyes sharp and unyielding.
Mr. Amir hesitated. “He said he wasn’t ready yet… I didn’t want to push him before bringing him here.”
David’s glare hardened. “fuck him.”
Harvey swallowed. “What? But—”
“FUCK. HIM. NOW.”
Oliver froze. His heart pounded, and a cold wave of dread swept over him. "please...no Harvey ple-HARVEY PLEASE" Oliver screamed trying to fight back. Harvey was strong, stronger than Oliver could. Just enough to prove if he wanted to force himself before he would've done it by now.
Oliver felt the pressure of his face smashed into the couch, attempting to fight back feeling his ass becoming very exposed by the other 4 in the room. "Harvey please, please don't do this, I love you Harvey-ahhh ahh" tears shed down Olivers face as he felt himself becoming penetrated by Mr. Amir. The teacher he had looked up to was...raping him. Oliver stopped screaming, it was this moment he lost hope, lost his dignity. Embarrassment and shame as the others were watching, Leo shedding a tear watching this happen but wiping it quickly to prevent David from seeing.
“There… that oughta shut him up for a while,” David said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.
“One of you,” he continued, pointing to the other boys, “draw the boy a bath. Get him washed up.”
Oliver didn’t move. He couldn’t. His body felt heavy, numb, weighed down by everything that had just happened. Fear, anger, confusion, despair — it all swirled together until he felt almost nothing at all.
He sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the floor as Leo hesitated, clearly unsure who should move first. River’s silent gaze held a strange intensity, and Henry’s protective posture did nothing to ease Oliver’s growing sense of dread.
Every sound in the house felt amplified: the creak of the floorboards, the rustle of clothing, the faint hum of the heater. Oliver’s chest ached as he realized he had no way to leave, no way to escape the weight of what had just happened.
The bath was drawn. A small gesture meant to calm, but to Oliver it only emphasized his helplessness. He sat there, staring at the steaming water, unable to speak, unable to think, and unsure how much longer he could hold onto himself.
The bathroom was small and warm from the steam rising from the tub. Leo, River, and Henry entered quietly, their faces somber. Oliver sat on the edge, staring blankly at the water.
Leo knelt beside him first, voice low. “Hey… it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Oliver shook his head. “How is this okay? What is this place? What’s happening to me?”. Olivers voice sounded broken, cracked through the pain.
Henry crouched down on the other side, his expression grim. “Listen to me, I'm not going to sugarcoat it kid....This isn't going to be the first time, David has dangerous power, and he knows dangerous people. And considering your 18...This isn't going to be easy.”
River, silent as always, reached out and placed a steady hand on Oliver’s shoulder. His gaze was intense, full of warning. Even without words, Oliver understood: River had seen what David was capable of.
Oliver’s hands trembled as the water ran. “I wanna go home” Oliver began to cry softly but tried not to make any noises.
Leo placed a hand over Oliver’s. “You’ll get through this. You just need to survive...once you hit your 20's it slows down” Leo patted Olivers other shoulder thinking what he said was reassuring.
Oliver swallowed hard, tears pricking at his eyes. For the first time since arriving, he felt a sliver of connection — a reminder that even in this house, he wasn’t entirely alone.
Henry nodded. “Stay alert. Watch him. And watch each other. That’s how we survive in here.”
Leo shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Oliver before speaking. “I… I disobeyed him once. Just once. And… he took it out on me.” He held up his left hand. “Lost my pinky. That’s all that was left of my defiance.”
Oliver’s eyes widened. “He… he did that to you?”
Leo nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. He doesn’t forgive mistakes. Not ever.”
River’s silent stare turned toward Oliver, and though he couldn’t speak, his eyes carried the weight of his story. Henry finally said it for him. “River… he made him… take his voice away. Can’t speak a word now.”
Oliver’s chest tightened. “I… I can’t even imagine…”
Henry’s expression darkened. “And I… lost something else. It’s not something you really want to think about, but he’s taken everything that made me… safe, normal. I can’t feel it anymore. I don't have sensation or pleasure in my dick anymore”
Oliver’s hands gripped the edge of the tub. “Why… why are you telling me this?”
Leo’s voice was quiet, almost pleading. “So you understand. You can’t disobey him. Not him, not David. Not if you want to survive. None of us did. That’s why we’re still… here.”
Henry added, his voice low and firm, “We’re telling you this so you don’t make the same mistake. You have to watch him. You have to be careful. That’s the only way to live in this house.” The bathroom fell silent again, only the sound of running water filling the space. Oliver’s fear felt heavier now, but so did a spark of determination. If this was his reality… he’d have to survive it. Somehow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Time had stretched strangely in the house. Days blended into nights, and the rules — unspoken but rigid — governed every movement Oliver made. He had learned to obey, to stay quiet, and to navigate David’s moods without drawing attention.
The fear never went away. It lingered like a shadow behind every glance, every instruction. But over these months, Oliver had grown sharper, more aware. He could anticipate the smallest shifts in David’s expression, the quiet signals of trouble, and even the subtle ways the other boys tried to warn him without drawing David’s notice.
Over the months, Oliver’s life settled into a rigid, unsettling routine. Five days a week, sometimes more, older men would come to the house. Each time, they would fuck him — at first it just started off with basic sex, later it turned into using toys and fuck machines. The sessions were long, uncomfortable, and exhausting, stretching Oliver’s anus in ways he hadn’t thought possible.
The other boys, once so present and protective, slowly faded from David’s attention. Leo, River, and Henry were still there, but they were almost forgotten now, relegated to the background of the house. Their warnings and quiet gestures of solidarity had become rare. David no longer needed them — or at least, that’s how it seemed.
“Boys, come upstairs now!” David’s voice cut through the house, sharp and commanding. He and Oliver were seated on the bed, a table next to them holding a glass of water and a paintbrush.
As Leo entered, his eyes immediately caught the paintbrush. A cold recognition passed over him — he knew exactly what was coming. Oliver noticed the flicker of fear in Leo’s expression and felt a familiar twist of anxiety in his own stomach. He was, as always, about to be the center of attention. His age, his presence, made him the focus, and he knew there was no escaping it.
“Oliver, will you please get into position?” David said, his tone calm but edged with authority.
Oliver moved without hesitation, obeying. Resistance here was pointless, and he had learned long ago how to survive by following instructions. He turned around facing his ass towards the boys, he became trained at this point to follow directions even if it scared him.
David’s gaze shifted to River. “River, come sit. Help me spread his ass open, show his anus to the other boys.”
River moved silently, carefully using his left hands to spread Olivers cheeks apart, revealing Olivers tight little hole to the world. The empty surface seemed to mock the tension in the room. Oliver’s chest tightened; the moment had arrived. Leo’s eyes never left him, filled with a mixture of worry and helplessness.
David’s eyes glinted as he leaned over the canvas. “The hole in this canvas… it’s beautiful, don’t you think, boys?”
Leo and Henry exchanged a quick glance, then spoke together, their voices quiet but steady: “It’s a beautiful hole.” Oliver’s stomach tightened. He didn’t fully understand what David meant, but he could feel the unease radiating from the room. The other boys’ synchronized response was a subtle act of obedience, a reminder of the control David wielded over all of them — and over him.
David’s gaze flicked between the boys. “Both of you have a butthole,” he said, gesturing to Oliver. “And I’ve already given them little names so I can separate you from your ass… so tell me, what do you think this hole should be called?”
Oliver’s chest tightened. The question, the attention, the way the room seemed to focus entirely on him, made him feel exposed and small. He could feel a faint breeze against his skin, and humiliation crawled up his spine.
David’s gaze shifted to Henry. “Henry? Any ideas? What should we call this hole?”
Henry paused, his jaw tight, then spoke slowly, his tone measured. “…Frostbite. It’s cold… and new.”
David’s glare sharpened. “I am not calling it Frostbite… seriously, what is wrong with you?”
Leo shifted nervously, feeling the weight of David’s eyes on him. “Uh… okay…”
David pressed, leaning closer. “Leo… how about you? Come on, look at it closely. What should we call it?”
Leo hesitated, then muttered, “…Tightywhity?" Leo closed his eyes in embarrassment. "It's tight and white"
David was pleased by looking down at him. "Beautiful." David placed his index finger on the center of Olivers hole circling around the rim. "A nice, Tight little hole." David had an obsession over boy pussies, and he loved watching the others feel this humiliated. "Now Oliver..." David said looking back at him. "I think it's tickle time. Do you know what that means in this house?" David asked still rubbing his hole.
"N-No daddy" Oliver was unaware of this moment, other than what he may have heard from Leo from before.
"Tickle time." David said slowly wrapping one arm around his waist to help hold him still, as River remained keeping his ass spread open. David reached over to the glass of water where the paintbrush was and picked up the wet brush. "Is when I tickle your anuses. Leo and Henry have experienced tickle time, I think today is TightyWhity's lucky day, he gets to be tickled" David places the wet soft brush on the rim of Olivers anus causing him to gasp and let out a moan. "Tickle tickle" he tickled the brush more around his anus causing him to moan and kick his feet a little. "TightyWhity is so pretty Oliver, He's so tight for this tickle isn't he." David dipped the brush back into the ice cold water. "You have to be verbal Oliver, that's the rules!"
"A-Ah Y-Yes daddy" Oliver moaned trying not to squirm among the tickling. "T-" he hated to say it, but he had to refer to what Henry said before. "Tigh-Ty..Whity loves to be tickled daddy" he Whined trying not to shed a tear from the sensation.
"Such a tight...tight little hole...A beautiful boypussy that deserves a little tickling." David tickled Olivers anus with the brush for a good 30 minutes. He even handed the brush to the other boys allowing them to tickle it as well. Oliver kept trying to squirm and whine from the sensation of his anus being tickled that he didn't want to disobey. He felt humiliated but he needed to listen to him.
