8. Mr Beast – The Final
Landon didn't sleep a blink, he was too full of nerves, the lights to the bedroom turn on and ten masked men walk in pulling the blankets off the ten remaining contestants. Landon looks at the other nine contestants all groggy, lying on their beds naked.
Mr Beast walks in. "Are you all ready for the final day" he bellows. He sits up abruptly, his heart racing. No sleep, but plenty of dread. The sudden brightness of the lights makes him flinch.
Nine other nervous, sleep-deprived faces stare back, each one probably thinking the same thing: What's waiting for us today? Mr Beast's voice booms through the room, and he nearly jumps out of bed. Ready? How could anyone be ready for...for this?
He rubs his eyes, trying to clear the haze. The reality hits him again. Today decides everything. Freedom or servitude. Twenty million or...or chains. "Ok you have five minutes to shower" Mr Beast says.
The masked lead the ten naked contestants to the shower room. There are only five shower heads. "Hope you guys like sharing" Mr Beast adds. Sharing? Oh god. Oh god, oh god. Five showerheads. Ten contestants.
He glances around, searching for any semblance of comfort. Everyone's tense, avoiding eye contact. Even the smallest gestures feel like minefields. I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. The humiliation...it's relentless.
Landon steps closer to the shower, trying to claim a spot, but someone else is already there. They exchange awkward, nervous smiles, and suddenly they’re all shuffling, trying to fit. This...this is going to be a nightmare.
One of the contestants leans close to Landon and turns on the shower their bodies are touching as the warm water cascades over their bodies, Landon can feel the heat of the other contestants’ body. He looks down and notices his dick is starting to get hard. Oh god, no, no, no, not now.
He shifts uncomfortably, trying to hide his reaction, but it's useless. The warmth of his skin, the closeness...his body's betraying him. This is so embarrassing. He turns his face away, hoping he doesn't notice. Just five minutes, It's only five minutes. Just survive this, and it'll be over.
The contestant looks down at Landon’s hard dick. "Want me to help you with that". He asks looking into his eyes. "If you are enslaved it might be the last time anyone ever touches your dick". His words hit Landon like a slap. He's right.
His face burns, his pulse pounds in his ears. He is frozen, unsure how to respond. It feels like he's offering...something. Something he shouldn't want, but... "It's okay if you do," he adds softly. Landon swallows hard, his mouth dry. "I... uh..."
God, what do I say? I can't deny it. My body's already given me away. "I..." Should I? The possibility hangs in the air, tempting him. Maybe he's just messing with me. Maybe this is another game. But what if it's real? What if this is truly my last chance?
He steps even closer, inches away from Landon’s face. He grabs Landon’s dick firmly and starts stroking it with a slow rhythm. Landon lets out a whimper, his hips bucking involuntarily. He gasps, his entire body tensing. It's too much, too intimate.
He tries to pull back, but there's nowhere to go. Everyone's packed in like sardines, all eyes averted, except for his. He's doing it on purpose. He knows exactly what he's doing.
"S-stop," He whispers, but it comes out all wrong. It sounds weak, unsure. His hands flutter uselessly, not knowing where to go, what to do. He keeps stroking, steady, deliberate. I'm losing control, his mind fogging over. Please, please, stop...don't stop.
As Landon is about to cum. The shower stops and Mr Beast re-enters the shower area. Time for the next task. The contestant walks away from Landon leaving him on the edge of climax. No, no, no, not like this. Please. He is left panting, his body trembling, right on the edge. I'm going to implode.
Mr Beast's voice slices through his haze, cold and cheerful. Task. Next task. That's all that matters now. He stumbles, trying to regain his footing. Trying to regain anything. His dignity's been reduced to shreds. Now...now what? What other twisted game does he have planned?
He is shaking, furious and frustrated, his skin flushed. He is a mess. The contestants are marched outside. There are ten chariots stood outside. In each chariot is one of Mr Beasts friends. "You are going to race through the streets, to a destination for the second final task. Take one of the pills"
The masked men walk over and hand out a pill to Landon and each of the contestants. Landon looks down at it nervously. Pills. Always a wildcard with Mr Beast. He stares at the tiny, innocent-looking thing in his palm.
It could be anything. Poison? A performance enhancer? Something to...alter my state of mind? His gut twists. He glances at the others, searching for answers. They're just as confused. One wrong move, and everything's over. Permanently. Or, hell, maybe it's harmless. Maybe it's just a placebo.
C'mon, Landon. You've made it this far. He hesitates, his thumb hovering over the pill. Landon swallows the pill and the masked guard walk each of the contestants in front of a chariot. They tie their hands to the poles at the front.
Theu are going to have to pull the chariots naked through the streets to the finish line. Landon looks down at his dick, its rock hard again, so are all the other contestants. Viagra. "Ready, Steady, Go" Mr Beasts shouts.
“Five slowest contestants will be eliminated" Landon looks around in shock, he wasn't ready. Three of the contestants start to pull their chariots. Landon looks at Nolan Hansen, Mr beasts’ friend in his chariot. He is lagging behind. Oh fck...oh fck, this is bad. So bad. Viagra. That's why we're all... Christ.
He glances around, desperation setting in. Three people are already pulling their chariots, leaving a gap. He grips the pole tightly, digging his heels into the ground. Every second counts. "Yah!" He shouts, more to psych himself up than anything else.
He starts pulling, his muscles straining, sweat already dripping down his forehead. The chariot lurches forward, slowly gaining speed. But damn, my Dick is still hard. And it hurts. It's gonna be a long, humiliating ride.
As he follows the signs through the streets, he notices people lining the streets as if they are watching a parade. He feels humiliated as people cheer as they are racing. He has no idea how long the course is but he keeps powering on, moving into fourth place.
His legs are heavy and his dick is still hard. He is covered in sweat. Fourth place. Fourth place is better than last, but the cheers are deafening. They're laughing, pointing, taking pictures... They're having the time of their lives, watching us suffer like this.
He grits his teeth, pushing his legs forward. They're burning, aching, but he can't stop. Fourth place. That means I will progress, keep going. He is practically dragging the chariot now, his arms screaming in protest. Nolan Hansen is laughing in the chariot waving to the onlookers.
He glances down, his face burning. His hard-on isn't going anywhere. It's throbbing, pulsing with every step, making him want to crawl into a hole. How much longer? He swallows hard, his throat dry. I won't give up. I can't give up.
The finish line is finally in sight, the final push. It’s so close, if he can stay in fourth, he will advance to the next round and have a 1 in 5 chance of winning, he pushes deep, trying to vend of the chasing competitors. Fourth place. I just need to hold on.
Everything hurts, but I'm so close. I can taste freedom—literally, figuratively, whatever. It's within reach. Adrenaline surges through him, overriding the exhaustion. He digs deep, pouring every ounce of energy into these final steps.
His legs tremble, his chest heaves, but he won't let up. He won't let them catch him. The finish line zooms closer, and he wills himself across it. Please, please, just let me make it. He’s gasping, his vision blurring, but he is not stopping now. Not when he is this close.
I'm going to make it. I'm actually going to make it.
Landon passes in 4th. He falls to his knees panting, sweat dripping of his forehead. The five slowest are taken away, barely putting up a fight they are now slaves. Landon is happy, he feels bad for them, but he is still in with a shot for twenty million.
As He watches the others being dragged away, He feels a pang of sadness. They're gone. Slaves. Their lives changed forever. It could've been me. But...it wasn't. His thoughts are a jumble. Twenty million dollars. Freedom. All within grasp.
He wipes the sweat from his face, trying to compose himself. There are only five of us left. Five chances to win. One chance to lose everything. The weight of it all settles on his shoulders. I'm not safe yet. Far from it.
A masked attendant hands him a bottle of water. Landon drinks greedily, the cool liquid feels amazing on his parched throat. He looks up and Mr Beast stands before him, a wide grin on his face. Water never tasted so good.
He blinks, focusing on Mr Beast's face. His grin seems especially cruel today. He braces himself, expecting another twisted announcement, another cruel twist. "So, you're still in the game, huh, Landon?" he asks, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Landon nods.
I'm ready for whatever comes next. At least, I think I am. The masked men guide them onto a stage. The five of Mr Beasts friends whose constants survived follow them on stage. Landon is pushed to his knees in front of Nolan.
"Another race, only two will survive. Each contestant has to suck off my friend in front of them. The two to make their partner cum the quickest will advance to the final" Mr beast declares. Nolan pulls out his hard cock and runs it over Landon’s face.
Oh god, no... No, no, no! This can't be happening. Not like this. But there's no avoiding it. The terms are clear make him cum, or face enslavement. Nolan's...dick brush against his cheek, leaving a trail of precum behind. Disgust and dread roil in his stomach. But twenty million dollars.
His heart pounds wildly as he glances up at him. He's waiting, knowing exactly what's required of him. He wets his lips nervously, stalling for time. There's no use delaying the inevitable. With a deep breath, He takes him into his mouth, trying to block out everything else.
Just get it over with. Fast. Landon works his tongue around his cock, the audience cheers as he does so. It feels wrong but the urgency pushes him. He bobs his head in rhythm taking more and more of Nolan's cock each time.
His hands tremble, fingers curled into fists, while his mouth moves mechanically. He is trying to block out the crowd, their cheers, everything. This isn't me. This isn't. But I can't think about that. Not now.
He is hyper-focused on the task. It's like...it's like I'm in some kind of nightmare, and the only way out is to...to... He shudders, his face burning. It's getting harder to breathe. Harder to pretend this isn't real. But He is not going to lose. He picks up the pace, forcing himself to keep going.
Nolan groans, his cock swelling in Landon’s mouth, Landon can feel him getting closer. The others are working hard too, noises of sucking fill the air. Oh, God, he's close. I can feel it. The sounds around me are surreal wet, slick noises, muffled groans.
His jaw aches, his throat constricts. I'm going to be sick. But I can't let up. Not now. I'm gonna be sick, I'm gonna be sick, I'm gonna. He doubles down, his whole body shaking. It's like his entire world has narrowed down to just...this. Please, just finish. Please.
With one final deep throating, Nolan explodes in Landon’s mouth. His cum spurts down Landon’s throat. Landon swallows it all, gagging slightly. The crowd goes wild, chanting Landon’s name.
It hits the back of his throat unexpectedly, thick and hot. He chokes, barely managing to swallow it all down without spilling a drop. The rush of euphoria from the crowd is jarring, their chant echoing through his mind as He gasps for air. He did it. He actually did it.
But the taste lingers, sour and degrading. He shudders, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. One step closer to the prize. One step closer to freedom. He meets Mr Beast's gaze, his eyes burning with determination. I'll get through this, no matter what it takes.
As cum dribbles down his chin he notices another person made their partner cum, it was the contestant who wanked him off in the showers earlier. The three losing contestants are taken off the stage, steel collars being attached to their necks as they are pushed of. Only two contestants remain.
His stomach drops as he sees the other contestant succeed. We're down to just two now. Me... and... what’s-his-name, the guy from the showers. He is frozen, watching in horror as the losing trio gets led away, collars around their necks like...like dogs. It's too real, too brutal.
His mind races. Two lefts. Only one more challenge before...before everything changes. He quickly composes himself, trying to ignore the drying stickiness on his chin. Focus, Landon. Focus. You're so close.
The masked men drag Landon and the other contestant to wooden pillories that have now being set up in the centre of the stage. They place his hands and head into the holes and closed the wooden frame. Landon is stood naked his ass sticking out in the air, he is still rock hard, looking at the audience.
Oh, God, no, this isn't this isn't happening. I'm trapped. Exposed. I can't believe this. His face is burning, his hands stuck, his...his everything...on display. The audience is laughing, snickering, pointing. They're devouring every inch of his humiliation.
He is paralyzed, unable to move. Mr Beast's friends are grinning, whispering to each other. What's the point of this? What's happening next? He squeezes his eyes shut, willing himself to disappear. But it doesn't work. When he open them, he is still there, stuck, vulnerable, and naked.
"The final task, one man will become a millionaire, the other enslaved for the rest of their lives. It’s an endurance task. The person who lasts the longes” Mr Beasts says. Endure what? His breath hitches, his heart skipping beats. Another endurance task. How much more can I possibly take?
But Mr Beast isn't done. He never is. He’s already shaking, his hands clenched tightly within the wooden frame. The anticipation is killing him. The other guy, his opponent, looks terrified, but he is sure he doesn't look much better. The crowd's anticipation is palpable. They're practically salivating.
It's just us now. One winner. One slave. "Who doesn't cum first, while being fucked will be the winner" Mr Beast says as the crowd cheers wildly. Fuck. Fuck. His breath catches in his throat. Being fucked. By who? By what? Oh, God... Not like this. Not this. Anything but this.
But He can't say no. Not now. Not when he is so close. He grips the wooden beams tighter, his knuckles turning white. I won't lose. I won't. Mr Beast's words hang heavy in the air, taunting him, daring him to crack. The crowd's excitement is suffocating. I'm going to be sick.
"Karma is a bitch Landon, the person who will be fucking you is a man you know" The crowd goes silent as Jack the constant that Landon pushed over during the race yesterday walks on stage. He walks up behind Landon and spanks his ass hard. "Remember me, bitch" Jack says
Jack. Oh, hell, no. Memories of shoving him down, of watching him struggle, come flooding back. Karma indeed. Jack rubs his hand over Landon’s ass, making him flinch. "Y-yeah, I remember you," He grits out, trying to sound braver than he feels.
His eyes dart around, praying for an escape route that doesn't exist. The silence is oppressive, weighing down on him. Every single person here is waiting...waiting for this to start. Waiting for me to break.
"To make things even more interesting, Jack, if you can make Landon cum first and lose, not only will he become enslaved for the rest of his life, but he will become your slave. Your property. I hope this offers extra incentive Jack"
Landon can't believe what he just heard, but Jack wastes no time ploughing into Landon before the person who will fuck the other contestant has even been brought on stage. Oh, his god...oh his god...no, no, no, this can't. He tries to twist free, to somehow escape, but it's useless.
He cries out, his body tensing instinctively. It's happening too fast. If I... if I lose...I'll belong to him. He'll own me. A shudder runs down his spine, fear and panic threatening to overwhelm him. I'm going to hyperventilate.
The crowd erupts again, their excitement spurring Jack on. He's not holding back. Not one bit. "Come on Jack, make him yours!" the crowd screams as Jack rams into Landon relentlessly, his thick cock pounding Landon hard. The sensations are too much and Landon feels his climax building.
His body betrays him, responding to the brutal pace despite his desperation. His mind screams at him to resist, to hold on, but his body has other plans. Every thrust sends shockwaves through him, making his muscles tighten. He tries to think about anything else, anything, but it's impossible.
"S-stop...!" He manages to whimper, but Jack ignores him. The crowd's cheers are deafening, urging him on. They're not cheering for him. They're cheering for his submission. His fingers dig into the wood, sweat dripping down his face. He’s panting, struggling to keep control.
It's too intense, too overwhelming. He can feel it building, building... "Please...no..." He whispers, shame burning through him. And with one final brutal thrust, Landon's body arches, a cry tearing from his throat as he climaxes, cum shooting wildly over his chest.
The crowd goes wild, chanting Jack's name. No...no, no, no. This can't be happening. He is shaking, tears prickling his eyes. I've lost. I've actually lost. He never felt so vulnerable, so utterly defeated. Jack's triumphant grunt sends another wave of shame crashing over him.
The roar of the crowd is like a physical blow. It's like they're swallowing him whole. Consuming his dignity. A sob bubbles up, but He chokes it back. He won't give them the satisfaction. Not yet. Jack's still inside him, claiming his prize.
"And it looks like we have a winner and definitely a loser. Landon, you have been sentenced to slavery. And Jack the person you cheated out of this competition is your new master" Mr Beast can't hide his smile.
The word echoes in his head like a curse. He is frozen, numb, his world spinning out of control. Mr Beast's smile is a knife twisting in his gut. He's loving every second of this. Jack's hands grab his hips, possessive, firm. A reminder. "I'm...yours," he whispers, barely audible, hating himself for saying it.
I've never felt so powerless. So enslaved. And it's only just begun. As the now collared Landon is released from the pillory Jack yanks him off the stage by his new collar, the crowd follows them with eager eyes, some shouting "train your pet Jack!
The collar digs into his skin, a constant reminder of his new reality. Every tug on it sends jolts of pain through his neck, but it's nothing compared to the humiliation.
He stumbles after Jack, his eyes stinging, his face burning. He doesn't dare resist, even though every fibre of his being is screaming to fight back. Not yet. Not when there are so many watching.
"Train your pet, Jack!" they shout, their voices blending together in a cruel, jeering chorus. They're already treating him like an animal. He glances back at Mr Beast, searching for any semblance of mercy. But he's gone, replaced by Jack's smug grin.
