A week later that day.
Brody led Jaxon to the south building, a hub for arts and sports activities—music, art, and specialty classes were held here. They climbed to the top floor, where the athletic electives were housed, complete with equipment rooms and empty classrooms. It was the same floor where Brody had toyed with Shawn’s tight pussy last time.
Jaxon followed Brody to an old classroom. Inside, a dozen or so students lounged, scattered across desks, some propping feet on chairs, others slouching or twirling pens, looking restless and bored.
At the front, behind a worn teacher’s desk on a raised platform, stood a tall, imposing man. His short, crisp hair framed a rugged face, with sideburns blending into a thick beard along his jaw, exuding raw masculinity. His sharp, tiger-like eyes scanned the room, dressed in a blue-and-white Adidas tracksuit. The jacket’s white stripes on blue sleeves mirrored the student uniforms but looked sharper on him, the loose fabric stretched tight over his broad shoulders and chiseled pecs. Rolled-up sleeves revealed tanned, muscular forearms. The desk hid his lower half, but his track pants bulged noticeably, the outline of a thick shaft clear, a fucking impressive package straining against the fabric.
“Damn, that slut’s ass is even perkier now, just begging to be pounded,” Brody whispered, pulling Jaxon to hide behind the door. They peered through a small, clear window—designed for teachers to monitor students—unseen by those inside.
Without Brody’s comment, Jaxon might’ve fixated on the bulge up front, missing the rear. The tracksuit hugged Shawn’s curves, his high, rounded cheeks forming a steep arc, the white stripes on his pants slightly warped from the strain, showcasing a perfectly shaped, fuckable ass.
It was Coach Shawn Long on the platform. Jaxon had heard about this setup: the school stuck underperforming athletic students—those who half-assed studies and training, with no college plans—in a supervised study hall. They were forced to stay until dismissal to keep them out of trouble. Only the PE coach, the one they feared most, could wrangle these rowdy, athletic delinquents.
Brody pulled out his phone, firing off a text. Inside, Shawn checked his phone, his face paling. His eyes flicked toward the door, spotting Brody in the corner, before quickly turning back to the distracted students.
“This ain’t playtime! Sit up, heads in your books, quit lookin’ around!” Shawn barked, his voice carrying a teacher’s authority. The slouching students grimaced but straightened up, grudgingly pulling out books.
Behind the desk, Shawn reached into a drawer, retrieving a thick, purple-black dildo, its surface veined and bulbous, the head massive. A fucking monster designed to wreck any pussy. His hand trembled slightly as he set it on the chair. Glancing at the students, he tugged at his pants, easing them down as he sat. The high platform hid his actions, masking that the stern coach overseeing study hall was now half-undressed. Only his subtle shift as he sat hinted at it.
Under the light blue track pants, Shawn wore a white, two-strap jock, the fabric clinging to his cheeks, squeezing them tight. The straps dug in, a sliver of firm flesh spilling over, begging to be grabbed. Kneeling in a low squat, he positioned himself over the chair, grabbing the dildo and aiming it at his hole. The toy was too big; his taut, elastic cheeks clamped around the tip, resisting. The squatting stance tensed his glutes further, and he didn’t dare move too obviously. Instead, he leaned forward, pressing his hips back against the chair, ass raised, and slowly worked the dildo in, forcing his tight pussy to accept the thick invader.
The massive dildo inched into Shawn’s hole, but just the bulbous tip made him wince, brows knitting tightly. His sculpted arms braced against the desk, hips tilting higher as he clenched his jaw, forcing the thick toy deeper. His rugged face twisted in restrained agony, teeth gritted, as the veiny shaft slowly sank into him. Bit by bit, his taut cheeks swallowed it, the widest part of the head finally breaching his ring. Unable to hold himself up, Shawn sank fully onto it, the toy’s base—a mock set of balls—flush against his skin, plugging his pussy completely.
“Ah!” Shawn let out a low, needy gasp, audible even through the door. A few students glanced up, confused.
“Eyes on your books!” Shawn barked, his voice firm but strained, masking the intrusion. With the dildo buried deep, he didn’t dare sit fully, knowing it would drive too far. Instead, he pressed his chest to the desk, ass raised, his taint grazing the chair’s edge. His legs trembled, track pants bunched at his ankles, high soccer socks hugging his calves, his pussy clenching around the toy with every suppressed moan.
Brody pulled out a small remote, smirking wickedly before flicking it on.
“A-ah!” Shawn yelped, his hips jerking up as he shot into a squat stance. He slammed the desk, pointing at a student. “Put that comic away and study!”
Despite his cover, from the door’s angle, it was clear: behind the desk, Shawn squatted, ass thrust back, the dildo’s base visibly spinning and buzzing faintly. The sound was subtle but noticeable to anyone listening closely. A few students exchanged puzzled looks. Inside Shawn’s core, the toy churned, grinding his walls, delivering a relentless wave of pleasure he could barely endure, his pussy getting wetter and looser with every vibration.
Brody tugged Jaxon to the door’s shadow, peeking in. From this angle, Shawn’s upper body looked rigid, trembling slightly as if his legs were tiring. In truth, the depraved coach was impaling himself on the vibrating toy, his hole and insides worked raw, his pussy screaming for release.
Brody sent another text. Shawn checked his phone, his expression darkening. He stole a glance at the door before addressing the class. “It’s warm in here, and it’s all guys. If you’re hot, ditch your jackets. Shirtless is fine.”
Leading by example, Shawn peeled off his blue-and-white tracksuit jacket, revealing a bare, chiseled torso. His arms reached back—likely gripping the dildo—baring his broad shoulders, thick pecs jutting forward. The desk hid his lower chest, but Jaxon knew those nipples were likely stiff, hard little pebbles begging to be pinched and twisted.
Another text from Brody. Shawn’s face tensed as he read it, his hands moving beneath the desk. His body twitched, brows furrowing tightly, arms shifting behind him as if suppressing something.
Jaxon and Brody crept to the front door’s window. There, they saw it: Shawn had clamped small metal clips onto his nipples, linked by a thin chain. His hands gripped the dildo’s base, his chiseled waist arched forward, ass pushed back. The black toy, slick with his fluids, twisted and spun between his tanned cheeks, faintly visible. Its buzzing base gleamed, coated in his mess, a dark sentinel guarding his violated pussy.
Shawn’s powerful arms rested on the desk, shoulders like carved hills, only his upper chest and collarbone visible. To avoid sinking fully onto the dildo, he pressed his pecs to the desk’s edge, hiding the clamped nipples below. His muscled hips curved down, ass raised in a lewd S-shape, legs quivering from the strain. From outside, it looked like Coach Long was merely trembling from tired legs.
But in reality, before a room of rowdy athletic students, the fearsome Coach Long—Westview’s iron-fisted teacher—was shirtless, pants at his ankles, half-squatting over a chair. A buzzing dildo churned in his hole, the faint hum mistaken by students for someone’s vibrating phone. And Shawn, lost in the depravity, his pussy clenching and unclenching around the relentless toy, didn’t stop it.
“Whose damn phone keeps buzzing? Turn it off!” Shawn snapped, struggling to mask the pleasure coursing through him, the vibrations sending shockwaves deep into his core. “Tanner, that you?”
The student he called out, Tanner, was short but built like a stocky bear. At Shawn’s words, he looked up, glaring with open defiance.
“You don’t answer when I call you out? Get up!” Shawn barked, his voice thick with frustration, fighting the urge to moan as the dildo hit a particularly sensitive spot.
Tanner rose slowly, his face dark. “Ain’t mine. Don’t even have my phone.”
Shawn didn’t dare go check, too exposed. “Whoever’s it is, take it out now!”
The buzzing grew louder as Brody cranked the remote’s dial. The dildo’s vibrations intensified, its base smacking the chair with a faint but unmistakable thud, each impact a small explosion of pleasure within Shawn’s overstimulated pussy.
“Everyone, check your stuff! Find that noise!” Shawn yelled, buying time. But slowly, the students’ eyes began drifting toward him.
His face flushed. Fumbling, Shawn grabbed his phone from his jacket, setting it to vibrate and tossing it on the desk. “Whoops, mine. Damn spam call,” he muttered, cursing for effect as the phone rattled, covering the hum from the toy buried balls-deep in his pussy.
Just then, Brody shoved the door open and strode in. “Yo, Coach, why didn’t you pick up? Homeroom teacher sent me to talk to you.”
From outside, Jaxon watched Brody saunter to the platform, leaning in as if whispering. But his hand tugged the chain linking Shawn’s nipple clamps, teasing the sensitive buds, while the other pressed the dildo deeper, base and all, into Shawn’s core. Brody murmured something in Shawn’s ear, his fingers subtly working the toy in and out, making Shawn’s pussy clench involuntarily.
“Got it,” Shawn said, his voice strained but steady. Jaxon marveled at his composure—his bare torso glistened with sweat, beads dotting his forehead, face red, voice trembling.
Brody yanked the chain, ripping off the clamps. Shawn yelped, doubling over to yank up his track pants, tying them at his waist. “Study hall’s done. Class dismissed.”
A few students grabbed their bags and bolted, eager to escape. One or two shot Shawn curious glances, their suspicion deepening when they spotted Jaxon lurking by the door.
Three students stayed behind: Max, Tanner, and Vince—Brody’s crew, all smirking at Shawn. Jaxon recognized Max and Tanner from before, and Vince was the one Shawn had just chewed out.
“Hey, you three, move it!” Shawn ordered, voice sharp.
“Cut the act, Coach,” Brody said, ripping off Shawn’s tracksuit jacket and tossing it on the desk. “Get on the platform and kneel. Let the boys see what’s been buzzin’. Let them see that slutty pussy you’ve been hiding.”
“Master, please, not here!” Shawn begged, glancing fearfully at the three students. “I’ll serve you right, just… somewhere else. I’ll let you do anything you want to my pussy, just not here.”
“Nah. Heard you’ve been actin’ all tough, disciplinin’ my boys. Time they see what you really are.” Brody pointed at the platform, his tone final.
Shawn, utterly broken by Brody’s dominance, flushed with shame but obeyed. He stepped onto a chair, Brody’s foot pinning his track pants down. As Shawn lifted his leg, the pants slid off, leaving him bare. He knelt on the platform—the same stage that once separated him from his students, lending him authority—now a degrading spotlight for his exposure.
He wore a red-and-white soccer jersey, the long sleeves bunched at his elbows, and high socks clung to his chiseled calves, stopping just below his knees. Kneeling, his thick thighs, sculpted pecs, and tapered waist flexed, a physique no average high school athlete could match. As he shifted, his muscles rippled, showcasing the mature, powerful lines of his body.
“Turn around. Let ‘em see what’s stuffed in that hole. Show them your pretty, plugged pussy,” Brody ordered with a leering grin.
Shawn’s sturdy thighs barely had room to maneuver on the narrow platform. Awkwardly, he pivoted, his cleated feet dangling off the edge. His broad shoulders and tanned back flexed like a predator’s, honed by years of soccer and sprints. His high, rounded cheeks jutted back, split by the thick, black dildo, still spinning and buzzing loudly without cover, a dark, obscene violation of his beautiful, masculine pussy.
“Actin’ all tough, yellin’ at me, when it’s you with that thing buzzin’ in your slutty ass?” Vince spat, glaring at the vibrating toy. “You got the nerve to call us out for phones? You fucking hypocrite, with a dildo up your pussy!”
“Thought you were some big shot,” Max sneered. “All those girls callin’ you the ‘sunshine coach.’ Turns out you’re just Brody’s used-up whore, takin’ a cock that big like it’s nothin’. Bet that pussy’s been wrecked for years.”
“Get to it, slut. Fuck yourself for the boys. Make that pussy sing for them,” Brody barked.
Shawn, with no choice, gripped the dildo’s base and began working it in and out. The toy’s vibrations never stopped, but he only dared pull it slightly, the slick, black shaft trembling as it emerged, making his cheeks quiver, his pussy greedily trying to suck it back in.
Brody slapped his ass hard, the crack echoing. “Put some filth into it, whore! Where’s that needy spark you usually got? Show them how much your pussy loves being filled! If you don’t get nasty enough to impress the boys, you’re done for today.”
“Yes, Master, I’m sorry,” Shawn mumbled, voice submissive. He eased the dildo out further, his rim clinging to the veined surface, each ridge dragging free, coated in his slick. The wet toy gleamed under the classroom’s harsh lights, a testament to his pussy's desperate lubrication.
“Quit stallin’!” Brody grabbed Shawn’s arm, yanking hard. The dildo slid out almost entirely, only the tip still caught in Shawn’s hole, dangling like an obscene tail. “Let it fall, and you’re dead. No hands to push it back. Clench that pussy, slut!”
Shawn’s hole twitched, straining to grip the toy, his body trembling as he fought to obey, the classroom air thick with his humiliation and the leering gazes of Brody’s crew.
The dildo hung precariously, only its bulbous tip still gripped by Shawn’s clenching rim. The slick, black shaft twisted into an S-shape, writhing like a serpent, the flared head teasing in and out of his stretched flesh, on the verge of slipping free. Terrified of Brody’s wrath, Shawn rocked his hips back, squeezing the tip tightly. He pressed the toy against the desk, lowering himself onto it with a desperate, lewd moan. The entire length vanished into his hole, swallowed completely. Kneeling on the narrow platform, his upper body loomed above the desk, ass jutting out, the dildo churning inside him. Its relentless spinning stirred his raw, red walls, stretching the wrinkled folds wide, unable to contain the buzzing toy. It carved a slick, meaty crater, occasionally pulling his rim taut, exposing a gaping slit. Hands-free, Shawn writhed on the stage where he once disciplined students, his chiseled abs flexing, hips grinding, plump cheeks dimpling as they clamped the toy’s base, his pussy a slave to the relentless vibrations.
“Damn, Brody, that thing’s brutal,” Tanner gaped. “After that, his ass must be wrecked. That pussy’s gotta be a fucking cavern.”
“No worries. This slut’s built tough. A little loose just makes it better. Easier access to that sweet pussy,” Brody sneered, switching off the remote. Shawn sagged, kneeling heavily, the dildo buried deep. Brody taunted, “Stuffin’ yourself with a toy while your students study. You call yourself a teacher? More like a professional cocksleeve.”
“Master, I’m not worthy,” Shawn moaned. “I’m a filthy whore who craves big cocks. I fucked myself in front of my students, gettin’ my hole ready for you. My pussy is yours to command, Master.”
“Get down here, slut. Serve the boys. Let them all have a turn with that hungry pussy,” Brody commanded. Relief washed over Shawn as he crawled off the platform. As he descended, Brody yanked the dildo, each step tugging it in and out. The sensation buckled Shawn’s knees, nearly sending him sprawling. He hit the floor, scrambling to kneel properly.
“Look at this mess,” Brody said, holding the glistening dildo, slick with Shawn’s fluids. He smacked it across Shawn’s face. “Go.”
Shawn crawled toward the desks, surrounded by the students. The once-commanding coach, towering and authoritative, now knelt like a cheap escort, clad only in soccer socks and cleats. His bear-like frame—broad shoulders, hulking muscles—quivered submissively, a dog at their mercy, his pussy still twitching from the dildo's abuse.
“Damn, Brody, I can’t wait,” Tanner growled, ripping open his pants to reveal a thick, stubby shaft, shoving it in Shawn’s face.
“Go wild,” Brody said. “This slut’s here to take the edge off. Break him, and he’ll know who’s boss. Ruin that pussy until he can’t remember his own name.” He turned to Vince, the one Shawn had scolded. “Monkey, you said you’ve never done a guy. Time to pop that cherry. Trust me, a man’s hole is tighter and hotter than any chick. A man's pussy can grip your cock like a vise.”
Nicknamed “Monkey” for his stocky, hairy build, Vince was short but ripped, his tank top baring a chest matted with dark fur. Curious, he circled behind Shawn. “Brody, Coach’s hole’s already stretched from that toy. Can that pussy still take it?”
“No more Coach Long. This is your personal slut now. Whenever you’re pent up, call him over—he’ll make you feel real good,” Brody said, grabbing Shawn’s cheeks like he was inspecting livestock, pulling them apart to expose his glistening crease. “Look at this needy hole. This slutty pussy is practically begging to be filled. He’s already worked himself up, itchin’ to be taken. Ain’t that right, slut?”
He kicked Shawn lightly. Shawn nodded frantically, swaying his hips, shaking his plump ass. “Yes, Master. This bitch is a slut. I got my hole all ready, my pussy is dripping for you, beggin’ for you.”
“Not today. This is for my boys to enjoy. Quit pleadin’ with me and start beggin’ Monkey to give it to you. Beg him to fuck that desperate pussy of yours,” Brody said, stepping aside to let Vince take center stage.
“Monkey! Please!” Shawn cried out. “This bitch needs you to take my hole. My pussy is so itchy, cravin’ your cock. Let me serve you with my slutty ass.”
“You had the nerve to call me out, makin’ me stand like a fool, while you’re back there fuckin’ yourself?” Vince roared, slamming his foot into Shawn’s ass. The force sent Shawn’s muscled frame crashing into a desk, but he scrambled back, kowtowing.
“Monkey, I was wrong! I didn’t know who you were. I’ll never act tough again. Please! Let me show you how good my pussy can feel around your cock!” Shawn’s chiseled body flushed red, a towering, authoritative coach reduced to groveling, begging his student to take him.
“Damn, this guy’s all high and mighty in class. Now he’s just a pathetic whore. A pussy-presenting slut,” Vince spat, disgusted.
Brody chuckled, leaning in to whisper to Vince. Jaxon, lurking behind, caught fragments: “…that toy’s coated with my guy’s new stuff. Makes the hole itch like crazy, desperate to be fucked. Turns any pussy into a bottomless pit of need. No dizziness, no fog—just pure need. He’s clear-headed, humiliatin’ himself, and doesn’t even know why he’s so slutty. Hilarious.”
“Alright, Brody, I’m in. If it’s good, I’ll hit this pussy before every study hall,” Vince said, dropping his pants. His thighs and groin were a jungle of dark hair, his shaft already hard. It wasn’t long—maybe 14 cm—but grotesquely thick, like a child’s fist, purple-black with bulging veins. Jaxon flinched at the sight. That thing would tear any pussy to shreds.
“Brody, let me test Coach’s mouth first. See if his throat is as tight as his pussy,” Max said, yanking Shawn’s hair to force his head up. He gripped Shawn’s jaw, shoving his shaft in, hitting the back of Shawn’s throat. Shawn’s face buried in Max’s thick pubes, his chiseled nose and handsome features smothered, gagging loudly.
Vince, showing no mercy, seized Shawn’s tapered waist, lined up with his stretched hole, and rammed in. Shawn howled, muffled by Max’s shaft. Max yanked out, furious. “Bitch, you’re hurtin’ me! Can’t even suck dick right anymore, your pussy’s made you stupid!” He slapped Shawn’s face hard, but Shawn barely noticed, scrambling forward. “No, it’s too big! It’s gonna tear me—hurts! My pussy can't take it!”
“Holy shit, Brody, you weren’t lyin’!” Vince crowed, voice thick with glee. “This hole’s better than any chick—fuckin’ hot, so damn tight. This pussy grips like a goddamn dream! Most girls can’t take my whole cock first try, but this slut’s eatin’ it up!”
“Told ya,” Brody smirked, watching Shawn squirm in pain, trying to crawl away. “That thick rod’s got him all worked up. Bet that pussy won’t even feel smaller ones after this. Where you goin’, Coach? You know Monkey’s a powerlifter—you ain’t outrunnin’ him.”
Vince’s massive hands, broad as paddles, clamped Shawn’s chiseled waist, yanking him back. Pinning Shawn’s hips, he forced his torso down, Shawn’s hulking frame like a dog caught by a bear. Vince’s thrusts slammed into Shawn’s hole with wet, brutal slaps, his grunts turning to wild howls of pleasure, each one a testament to the violation of Shawn's once-proud pussy.
“C’mon, Coach, taste all the boys’ cocks,” Brody said, waving the group forward. “We’ll blindfold you later, make you guess who’s fuckin’ that greedy ass. Who’s stretching out that sweet pussy.” Jaxon’s heart raced, realizing Brody’s “boys” included him.
Tanner grabbed Shawn’s hair, jerking his head up and shoving his shaft into Shawn’s mouth. Pounded by Vince’s massive cock from behind and now gagged from the front, Shawn was trapped. Tanner showed no mercy, gripping Shawn’s head and thrusting hard, his sack slapping Shawn’s chin. “That’s for bustin’ me for smokin’ last week, you prick. Let’s see how that slutty mouth handles this. Maybe after I'm done with your throat, I'll try that pussy of yours.”
“Don’t let him slack off,” Brody called to Max and Jaxon. “Play with him. Jaxon, those pecs ain’t far off your dad’s—go compare. Feel up his man-tits, make him moan for you.”
“Brody, you’re really spoilin’ our golden boy, huh? Bringin’ him along to wreck others,” Max sneered, glancing at Jaxon. Having already used Jaxon himself, Max held no respect for him.
Brody nodded, grinning. “Kid’s obedient, knows his place. A good dog. I’m happy to train him up, let him lead my pack of sluts. Maybe he'll even learn to like having his own pussy stretched.”
Jaxon’s gut churned with resentment, but he didn’t dare show it. Seeing Shawn’s depravity fueled his anger, nowhere else to go. He grabbed Shawn’s pecs, squeezing hard. Shawn’s chest was rock-solid, broad and thick, almost feminine in its heft. Normally, Shawn loved showing off shirtless, flaunting his chiseled physique, even letting girls cop a feel with a smug grin. Now, Jaxon dug his fingers in, kneading roughly, spitting venom. “Always actin’ like a stud, showin’ off these tits. You’re just a filthy whore, lettin’ anyone play with ‘em now. Does your pussy like it when I touch your tits, Coach?”
Max dragged his shaft across Shawn’s face, the swollen tip scraping through Shawn’s trimmed beard, smearing precum over his rugged jaw. Tanner pulled out of Shawn’s mouth, passing him to Max, and instead guided Shawn’s hand to stroke his own cock. Jaxon, following their lead, nudged his shaft toward Shawn’s other hand, but Shawn’s focus was split—his mouth and hole under siege—his grip weak and distracted.
“C’mon, taste our golden boy’s cock too,” Max said with a smirk. “Gotta memorize it for later when we blindfold you and make you guess who’s fuckin’ that ass. Whose cock is deep inside that pussy, huh?” Max stepped back, and Shawn turned to Jaxon. In that fleeting moment, Jaxon caught the flicker of despair in Shawn’s eyes, a pang of guilt hitting him. But Shawn was already leaning in, taking Jaxon’s length into his mouth. Jaxon’s cock wasn’t small, but Shawn’s skills were honed far beyond amateur—swallowing him in one smooth, deep motion, Jaxon’s tip hitting the back of his throat. Despite the shame of Brody’s games, Jaxon couldn’t deny the thrill of dominating someone else’s mouth, especially his coach—the hard-edged, masculine mentor now reduced to a needy slut servicing his student, his throat just another pussy for Jaxon to conquer.
Shawn’s technique was unreal. Jaxon felt his tip enveloped in soft, hot flesh, Shawn’s tongue curling and writhing against the shaft. His throat was slick and scorching, teeth tucked behind lips, the occasional graze sending sharp, exquisite jolts through Jaxon. Unable to resist, Jaxon grabbed Shawn’s head, thrusting hard into his mouth.
“Mmph!” Shawn whimpered, lips stretched around Jaxon’s cock. The head sometimes slipped free, forcing him to chase it with an open mouth, spit and slick dripping from his chin, coating his chiseled face in a humiliating sheen.
“Damn, our golden boy’s a quick learner,” Max laughed, voice dripping with mockery. “Already fuckin’ Coach’s slutty mouth like a pro. Heard you were real sweet on Jaxon, Coach—your prize student, huh? Bet you never thought he'd be fucking your throat instead of your pussy.”
Jaxon’s body tensed, glancing down. Shawn’s eyes, brimming with sorrow, met his. Jaxon’s thrusts slowed, guilt creeping in, but Shawn leaned into it, rocking his head to keep Jaxon’s cock pumping, muffled moans vibrating through his throat.
“Fuck, this is too good—damn underwear’s in the way!” Vince roared, tearing Shawn’s jockstrap clean off. The fabric fell, baring Shawn’s body completely. Tanner let out a low whistle. “No wonder Coach is so tame today. Look at that—caged up. Brody, what’s this trick? Locking up his cock so his pussy gets all the attention?”
Jaxon looked down. A silver cage encased Shawn’s shaft, a lattice of tiny grids locking his cock and balls tight. A ring at the base clamped like a cuff, anchoring the cage. Shawn’s cock strained inside, painfully erect, the tip leaking through the bars, dripping onto the floor.
“That’s a chastity cage,” Brody said, grinning. “Keeps this slut from gettin’ hard. Can’t fuck his girl, can only get relief from us. His pussy is ours to command, his cock is ours to deny. Been locked a month now. Make him cum, and he’ll do anything you want.”
Shawn, still pounded by Vince, slammed his head to the floor, the thuds echoing. “Please, Master, take it off! I can’t take it—my hole’s desperate, my pussy needs to be fucked until I see stars, I need to cum. It hurts when I get hard! Please!”
Vince was lost in his high, gripping Shawn’s waist with bruising force, his thrusts savage and unrelenting. His stocky frame lacked defined abs but was solid, a bear-like wall of muscle slamming into Shawn’s plump cheeks. Even Shawn’s chiseled physique looked almost delicate under Vince’s bulk. Deep finger marks from Vince’s grip bloomed on Shawn’s ass, evidence of the powerlifter’s strength. “Fuck, this hole’s unreal,” Vince growled. “Clamping my cock so tight, suckin’ me in—this pussy is trying to swallow me whole! I can’t hold it, shit!”
With a final flurry of brutal thrusts, Shawn lurched forward, only to be yanked back by Vince’s hands. Vince roared, burying himself deep, panting heavily as he came, sweat dripping from his brow. When he pulled out, his short, impossibly thick shaft made a wet pop, a trail of thick seed dripping from the tip, leaving Shawn’s pussy gaping and violated.
Max stepped up, wrinkling his nose. “Damn, Monkey, you wrecked him! That hole’s fuckin’ ruined—way too loose to use now. That pussy is a goddamn chasm!”
“No problem,” Brody grinned, slipping a black blindfold over Shawn’s eyes. “Loose is perfect. Makes it harder to guess who’s hittin’ it. Makes that pussy even more of a guessing game.”
“One by one, boys,” Brody said, his voice dark with amusement. “If he names your cock, you’re out.” He shot Jaxon a sly nod, signaling him to go first.
Jaxon hesitated, stunned by the sight. Shawn’s cheeks were marked with Vince’s handprints, his hole completely slack, unable to close. The once-tight rim was now a slick, red ring, folds smoothed out, gaping like a dark void, trembling faintly. Slick fluid and streaks of Vince’s thick, yellowish seed oozed out, trickling down Shawn’s taint, pooling at the chastity cage before dripping to the floor. Jaxon lined up his cock and pushed in. The stretched hole gave no resistance, but the heat and slickness inside were intense, Vince’s release coating Jaxon’s shaft as he moved, leaking out with each thrust, Jaxon's cock sliding easily into the wrecked pussy.
“Guess who,” Brody said, looming behind Jaxon, voice dripping with malice.
“It’s… Master!” Shawn gasped, desperate to please. “Only Master’s cock feels this good in my pussy!”
Brody kicked Shawn’s ass hard, sending him sprawling forward, Jaxon’s cock slipping free. “You forgot how big your Master’s cock is? Pathetic. You can’t even recognize the cock that owns your pussy? You’re beggin’ for punishment.”
Max shoved forward, grabbing Shawn’s hips and plunging in. He pounded relentlessly for ten minutes, each thrust full and deep, pulling out completely before slamming back. Shawn’s hole was so slick that Max’s cock sometimes slipped free, sliding along Shawn’s taint and smacking the chastity cage, making Max curse under his breath. Careful not to speak, he spread Shawn’s cheeks wide, aiming blindly and driving in, the loose hole swallowing him to the hilt. Finally, Brody leaned in. “He’s been fuckin’ you long enough. Who is it? Whose cock is stretching that pussy now?”
Shawn, panting, hesitated. “I… I can’t tell. It’s too loose… please, I don’t know! My pussy is too ruined to tell!”
“It’s… Jaxon?” Shawn guessed, voice wavering.
Brody burst out laughing, and Max couldn’t hold back a cackle. “Fuck, you can’t even tell Max’s cock? Better memorize it, Coach. Memorize how every dick feels in that slutty pussy. Next time I’m pissed, I’m comin’ for that ass.”
Tanner shoved in next, his cock nearly as thick as Vince’s but meatier, the broad shaft stretching Shawn’s hole wide. Within minutes, Shawn gasped, “It’s Tanner! That thick cock can only be Tanner’s!”
“Motherfucker, you nail mine right away?” Tanner growled, yanking out and kicking Shawn’s side. His cock was distinct—shorter than Jaxon’s or Max’s but uniquely girthy, easy to pick out.
“Alright, you’re ridin’ now. Guess good,” Max said. He and Tanner hoisted Shawn, positioning him over Brody, who lay flat on the floor. They guided Shawn to straddle Brody’s massive shaft, urging him to sit.
“Serve it right first,” Tanner snapped, shoving Shawn’s torn jockstrap into his mouth, gagging him. Shawn squatted, his loose hole grazing Brody’s cock. He shifted his hips, aligning himself, and sank down, a muffled moan escaping as the thick length filled him. Fully lost to the haze, Shawn spread his knees, bouncing in deep squats, his cheeks swallowing Brody’s shaft. Jaxon watched, mesmerized, as Brody’s brutal, veiny cock flashed in and out, Shawn’s pace quickening, his gagged moans growing frantic. Slick fluid coated Brody’s pubes, matting them. Each rise tugged the hairs up, each drop pressed them flat, thin trails of slick dripping along Shawn’s skin. His rhythm grew feverish, nearly pulling Brody’s cock free before slamming back down, his pussy working Brody's cock like a seasoned whore.
Once, Brody’s shaft slipped out entirely, and Shawn’s desperate drop missed, sliding to the side. Brody’s cock wasn’t just long and thick—its flared, hooked head and pulsing veins gave it more drag than the toy, hard as iron. It didn’t just fill Shawn; it forced his cheeks apart, a weapon that made Brody’s dominance unstoppable. Jaxon’s own hole twitched just watching, imagining that monstrous cock violating his own pussy.
Max ripped the soaked jock from Shawn’s mouth. “Who’s this cock, slut? Whose dick is fucking your pussy so good?”
“Master! It’s Master’s huge cock! Only Master’s cock can make my pussy feel this way!” Shawn panted. Brody’s size and girth were unmistakable, etched into Shawn’s body from the moment he took it.
“Got it quick,” Brody sneered, grabbing Shawn’s pecs and pulling him down to lie against his chest. He shot Jaxon a sharp look.
Jaxon froze, catching the command in Brody’s cold stare. Heart pounding, he stepped behind Shawn.
Shawn’s hole, stretched wide by Brody’s relentless pounding, gaped open. Brody’s girth rivaled Vince’s, but his length was unmatched, a devastating tool. Jaxon’s cock was smaller by comparison, but adding it to the mix? Shoving two cocks into one pussy? That would push limits no one could fathom.
Jaxon gripped Shawn’s cheeks, aiming his tip at the already-stuffed hole. Vince’s thickness had left some slack, but there was no room for Jaxon alongside Brody. He hesitated, the impossibility dawning on him.
“If you can take a second cock in that pussy in one minute, I’ll unlock that cage today,” Brody sneered, his voice dripping with cruel amusement.
Shawn, trembling with fear and desperation, arched his back, hips grinding needily. “Please… please, whoever’s next, fuck me! Hurry, pound this slutty hole, I’m beggin’ you—wreck me! Make my pussy take two cocks!”
Jaxon’s gut twisted. If he couldn’t make this work, Shawn would suffer—and so would he. Gritting his teeth, he pressed forward, forcing his tip against Shawn’s overstretched rim.
“Agh! Fuck, it’s too much—gonna tear me apart! My pussy can't take two!” Shawn roared, collapsing onto Brody’s chest, his voice a raw mix of pain and surrender. Brody’s hands seized Shawn’s cheeks, prying them wide, exposing the gaping hole. The flesh flattened under his grip, the rim stretched impossibly taut. Jaxon’s head inched in, scraping past the tight ring, finally breaching the scorching, slick tunnel. His shaft pressed flush against Brody’s, the heat and pressure overwhelming.
“Fuck, ruin this whore! Stretch that pussy until it screams!” Brody growled, bucking his hips.
The sensation of fucking alongside Brody was worlds apart from taking him alone. Brody’s cock—long, thick, and unyieldingly hard—ground against Jaxon’s with ferocious intensity. Jaxon couldn’t help but match the rhythm, his cock enveloped in Shawn’s soft, molten core, tight despite the stretch. The underside rubbed against Brody’s pulsing shaft, the friction electric. Sometimes they thrust in sync, plunging deep together, making Shawn scream, his moans a continuous wail. Other times, they alternated—Jaxon in as Brody pulled out, Brody in as Jaxon withdrew—relentless, leaving Shawn gasping, his cries a jagged, endless stream, his pussy a battleground for their cocks.
“Brody, can I get another round? My dick is aching for that pussy,” Max asked, smirking, his eyes glinting with hunger.
Jaxon’s heart sank as Brody nodded. He knew he was trapped. Max’s fingers probed his hole, slicking it with lube before driving in. Max’s cock wasn’t as thick or daunting as Brody’s, and Jaxon adjusted quickly, the discomfort fading. He pressed against Shawn’s back, pinning him down. Shawn, impaled by both Brody and Jaxon, was lost in a haze, clutching his own nipples, moaning uncontrollably.
“Unlock your damn cage!” Brody tossed the key to Shawn, his thrusts growing vicious. Shawn, rocked by the relentless pounding, fumbled frantically with the cage. After several shaky attempts, he popped the lock, hurling it aside.
The moment he touched the cage, his trapped cock—straining painfully—began leaking clear fluid and milky seed. As the cage fell, Shawn howled, his freed shaft erupting, ropes of release splattering wildly. His clenching hole gripped Jaxon so tightly it pushed him over the edge, spilling inside.
“Fuckin’ useless,” Brody spat. He sat up, hoisting Shawn’s thighs and lifting him like a ragdoll, cock still buried deep. Carrying him to a desk, Brody slammed Shawn down, the small table now a stage for the muscled coach’s violation. Shawn’s broad back barely fit, half his body hanging off, head lolling like slaughtered prey. Brody pinned his legs up, folding him nearly in half, ass exposed over the edge. Brody’s sack slapped Shawn’s cheeks with each savage thrust, the wet, sloppy smack of his drenched hole filling the room. Shawn, too overwhelmed to scream, could only shake his head, lost in the relentless onslaught, his pussy enduring a final, brutal assault.
Max zeroed in on Jaxon, pounding him with focused intensity, filling Jaxon's pussy with his own brand of punishment, while Tanner grinned wickedly, aiming his cock at Jaxon’s mouth. Vince, drawn to the coach, moved to Shawn’s side, shoving his thick shaft into Shawn’s lips.
“Let’s take this somewhere new,” Brody growled, scooping Shawn up in a possessive embrace and heading for the door. Vince, chuckling darkly, hurried to open it.
“No, please, Master, not outside—someone’ll see! They'll see what you've done to my pussy!” Shawn thrashed, panic in his voice, but Brody’s grip was iron. Shawn’s chiseled arms clung to the doorframe, muscles bulging as he tried to block the way. His body dangled, suspended, as Brody fucked him midair, each thrust making Shawn’s trembling frame quake with pleasure.
“Shit, someone’s coming!” Vince hissed, slamming the door shut. Max and Tanner yanked Jaxon to the corner, pinning him to the floor, holding still.
Brody pressed Shawn against the wall by the door, a blind spot from the outside. Shawn clamped a hand over his mouth, stifling his gasps, as footsteps approached. A voice called, “Anyone in there? Class is over.”
The steps faded after a pause, no response given. Shawn’s arms slumped, his choked moans barely audible, consciousness slipping under the relentless assault.
Jaxon and Shawn, the disgraced coach and student, were ravaged by the four delinquent athletes, each pushed to climax twice more. By the time the group had their fill, Shawn’s hole was a wrecked, gaping mess. Sprawled across the desk, streams of seed leaked from him, pooling beneath. His soccer socks were his only cover, his sweat-slicked body streaked with cum across his pecs and abs. His short, crisp hair was matted, strands clumped with seed, dripping onto his face.
Jaxon fared no better, his hole filled with Max and Tanner’s release. He slumped against a desk, staring at Shawn’s closed eyes, words failing him. The air hung heavy with their shared ruin, the classroom a silent witness to their fall, their pussies echoing with the ghosts of violation.
