Chapter 16: Day Three, New Me
© Broken Boundaries Gay Erotica
By the time the two of them closed in on me, I could still feel the sting of what I’d said earlier. All that begging. The way I’d thrown myself down and promised anything just for a taste. The words clung like sweat in my ears: I’ll do anything, Sir. Please just let me choke on your cock. I’d meant every bit of it, and they knew.
The cage had been gnawing at me for days. A dull ache that never let up. Every night I went to bed swollen in the bars. Every morning, I woke stiff but locked,
no way to touch myself, no release except serving them. It was driving me out of my skin. The denial didn’t dull me, it sharpened me. I felt stretched thin, wound so tight I thought I might split open. My cock shoved uselessly at the steel like it could break free on its own.
Connor crouched in front of me, sweat tracking down his chest, calm smirk carved on his face like he already knew where this was going. “You begged good earlier,” he said. “But I think you’ve still got more in you, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir,” I answered before my brain even caught up.
Aiden padded closer, body slick, cock hanging heavy and flushed from the heat. He grinned, eyes lit with that mix of playful and cruel. “If you mean it, prove it. Beg again. Do it right this time.”
My throat was tight, but the words spilled anyway. “Please, Sirs. Please, I’ll do anything for your cocks. I need them. I need to taste you, feel you using me. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t jerk off, I can’t do anything. Just let me serve. Please, I’m begging you.”
They traded a look, both chuckling low. Connor leaned in, cock swelling, and slapped it across my cheek hard enough to sting. The sound cracked off the walls.
“See that?” Connor said. “He loves it.”
Aiden stepped in. His shaft dragged across my face, slow, deliberate, leaving streaks of sweat and slick that caught the light. Left cheek, right cheek, across my mouth. The weight was grounding, and I leaned into it without meaning to, like some pathetic mutt chasing contact.
“Pathetic,” Aiden muttered, though the grin gave him away. He tapped the head against my nose, making me go cross-eyed. “Pathetic little cage boy. Can’t even touch himself, so he begs for cock on his face instead.”
Connor smacked his length against my jaw, harder, tilting my head sideways. “Say it again,” he ordered. “Say you’ll do anything.”
“I’ll do anything, Sir,” I forced out through burning cheeks. “Anything for your cocks.”
Both pressed in then, shafts sliding together across my face until a tang hit my lips. My body shook, the cage throbbed, and I opened my mouth wide, hoping one of them would fill it.
Aiden broke the silence first, toe nudging my knee. “Question for you. All that begging—did it mean anything? Or were you just mouthing off to get us going?”
“It meant it,” I said. My voice came out small.
He glanced at Connor, then back at me. “I wanna try something I still haven’t done.” He scratched his jaw, eyes steady. “I want to see what it’s like to have someone drink my piss.”
The word landed heavy. Piss. My head went still. I’d already let the others piss on me the other night, everyone but Bryson, and the memory had left me twisted up in ways I hadn’t admitted. It wasn’t like this would follow me home. We didn’t even go to the same schools.
“You willing to try it?” Aiden asked, voice lower now. “Just a taste. You’ll get my cock after.”
I looked up at him and searched for the line that might stop me. There wasn’t one. Not tonight. The cage pressed tight, my mouth already wet. “Yes, Sir. I’ll drink it.”
His whole face lit. He moved fast, hand cupping my chin as he fed the head between my lips. Already swelling, hot, skin damp with sweat. “Open,” he said, and I did.
The first burst hit sharp and scalding, a bitter rush across my tongue before I could brace for it. My eyes went wide. He groaned, long and relieved, and then the stream poured full force, no pause, like I really was just a urinal he’d been holding out for.
The heat overwhelmed me. The steady press filled my throat. The acrid bite was electric. My gag reflex jumped, chest tightening. Aiden didn’t slow. Both hands clamped the back of my head, hips rocking lazy while he emptied himself. The sound in my mouth was obscene, a wet glugging I couldn’t hide.
I swallowed hard, greedy and panicked all at once. The polished gym floor gleamed beneath us, flecked with stone, spotless. The thought of spilling on it made my stomach knot. I locked in and gulped every drop, throat working, eyes stinging.
Connor’s breath brushed my ear. “Don’t spill, Tommy,” he murmured, amused. “Clean boy.”
Somehow, I got it all down. At the end there was one last dribble, then nothing. Aiden sighed, satisfied, and pulled back slightly. That was when the gag ripped out of me, loud and raw, echoing up into the rafters. And then the burp.
Both laughed, not cruel, just entertained. My face burned.
Aiden rubbed my head like he was proud. “You did that. Didn’t spill a drop.”
It was humiliating and comforting at the same time. The praise sank low in my chest.
I opened my mouth to show them: clean, just spit gleaming on my tongue. Aiden’s cock was standing now, full, seven thick inches, the head flushed pink. He looked down at it like he didn’t even expect it himself.
Connor caught it and chuckled. “You’re wound up. Take him first.”
Aiden didn’t wait. He grabbed the back of my head and shoved me onto him. “Hands behind your back.” His voice had dropped.
I clasped my wrists and let him drive. No tease. He went straight into a hard pump, blunt and fast, using my throat like I’d promised. The first strokes knocked the last bitter trace loose and replaced it with the clean slide of skin. He rode deep, pulled back to my lips, then hammered in again.
I gagged, sputtered, eyes watering. He didn’t slow. He chased the sound. “That’s it,” he gritted. “Choke on it. You said you would.”
The cage bit into me. My jaw ached, throat raw, but I wanted it. Every thrust shoved another wet click from my mouth. At one point he buried me to the base, counted low to three, then pulled back just enough for me to drag in air before sinking me again.
“Jesus, look at him,” Connor said, laughing above me. “His face is turning red.”
“He’s fine,” Aiden grunted, pace quickening.
His grip on my head tightened and I struggled to keep up with the relentless thrusts of his cock as it bottomed out in my throat.
He wasn’t teasing himself. He was taking it. Hips snapping, cock twitching hard. I felt the build in him, fast and rough, and then he buried me deep and held. The first pulse hit my throat hot and metallic, thick enough to choke me. I gagged and swallowed at once, face burning. Another pulse. Another. My body fought it and craved it.
Connor’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Ease up or his eyes’ll bulge out of his head.”
Aiden pulled partway, enough for me to suck in a crooked breath, then finished across my just beyond my tongue, groaning through his teeth. He shivered, tugged out, and I swallowed everything, chest heaving.
For a second it was quiet. Then Aiden leaned over me and spit quick onto my cheek. A wet dot sliding hot down my skin.
We all froze a beat. He blinked. “Sorry. Don’t know why I did that. It just… felt right.”
I didn’t wipe it. “I don’t mind,” I said hoarse. “I kinda liked it.”
The words came out too fast.
Connor cracked first, laughing so hard he bent double. Aiden followed, tipping his head back. “Good to know,” he said, wicked grin stretched wide. “Good to know.”
Connor hadn’t laughed as loud as Aiden, but he was still grinning when he planted his foot right in front of me. Wide, damp from the floor. “Start there,” he said.
I bent down and kissed the arch. His skin was hot, the flavor sharp and tangy, sweat-soaked from the workout. It filled my mouth instantly, strong enough to make me twitch but not pull away. I dragged my tongue across the sole, feeling every ridge under the surface.
“Good,” Connor murmured, leaning back on the bench like he had time to burn.
I moved to his toes, sucking one in, tasting the sour funk that had gathered between them. Stronger there, almost pungent. I tongued the gap, gagged faintly at the bitterness, and kept going.
“Tell me what it tastes like,” he said. Calm as ever.
“Like sweat, Sir. Strong. Musky.”
“And you like it?”
My throat tightened, but I answered. “Yes, Sir.”
His hand rested on my head, steady and heavy. “Then keep going upwards.”
I licked up his ankle, grit clinging to my tongue, then along the calf. Muscle thick under the skin, hair damp against my lips. The taste deepened as I climbed, muskier, heavier, like it had soaked into him.
He pointed between his balls and his legs so I dove in deeper. I pressed my face into the crease where thigh met body and inhaled the humid funk hiding there.
“That’s it,” Connor said. “Don’t miss anything.”
I licked the seam, sour and ripe, then buried into his balls. They hung heavy, damp with sweat. My tongue dragged over the wrinkled skin, bitter and sharp, spit coating them until they gleamed. A moan slipped out of me before I could stop it.
“You like that too, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good boy.”
I went in for another swipe, savouring the taste of Connor’s sack. I was beginning to notice that each of the guy’s had their own unique flavour when they were sweaty. I wasn’t sure whose was the worst, or was it the best?
I looked up into Connor’s eyes, somehow knowing I needed permission before descending on the main prize and he gave me a small nod that let me know I could go for it.
I worked my way up his length, slow licks from base to head. He was thick and hard, flushed dark, pre-cum smearing at the tip. I wrapped my lips around him, the metallic tang hitting instantly, and swallowed him down inch by inch.
Connor didn’t thrust. He leaned back, eyes half-shut, letting me do it. “Slow. All your work.”
I obeyed, throat stretching, cheeks hollowing on the way down. Saliva slid down his shaft and dripped to my chest. My cage bit into me every time I shifted.
“That’s it,” he murmured. His hand guided me lightly. “Keep it steady.”
Het let me work his shaft for a few minutes, only offering the occasional direction with his hand then he raised one arm, and with the other directed my face to his exposed armpit then pressed my face into it. His pit hovered over me, hair darkened with sweat, the smell blasting hot and sour. “Lick.”
I buried in, tongue sliding through the damp curls. The taste was salty, sharp, sweat clinging thick. I licked up and down, swallowing the sting until my head spun.
“Other side.” He raised the other arm, and I did the same, dragging long swipes through the wet hair, swallowing his musk. Overwhelming, and hot, and yet my cock throbbed painfully in the cage.
He finally lowered his arms. “Back to work.”
I swallowed him down again, slow, lips stretched wide, tongue working the underside. His thighs flexed under my hands, chest rising harder now. He shifted on the bench, spreading his legs wider, ass tilted forward.
“Lick me.” His voice had sharpened.
I pressed my mouth between his cheeks, tongue circling his rim. The taste was strong, sour with sweat, the smell thicker. I worked him deep, nose jammed against him, saliva dripping freely as I rimmed.
Connor groaned, hand stroking himself steady. “Good. Keep at it.”
I dug in deep, knowing from our previous experience he liked it when I worked my tongue in as far as I could get it. I felt his hand on the back of my head encouraging me to go even deeper.
I could almost feel Connor’s heart beat I was so far up inside him and it would almost have been intimate if the act we were performing wasn’t so lewd.
I pushed harder, tongue darting inside, until his hips twitched. Then he tapped my head.
“Back on it.”
I pulled away, face wet, and swallowed him again. This time he guided me faster, hand firm in my hair. His hips rolled shallow, feeding himself down my throat.
“More tongue,” he ordered.
I flattened it beneath him, swirling around the head before sinking deep again. His cock twitched, pre-cum spilling bitter and thick across my tongue. He groaned louder, teeth gritted.
“Stay there.”
His hips snapped forward and froze. The first pulse hit hot and heavy at the back of my throat. I swallowed quick, chest tightening. Another surge flooded my mouth, metallic and bitter. I gulped it down, wanting all of it.
I felt a small surge of gratitude that Connor had allowed me to actually taste his cum rather than just blasting it down my throat the way Aiden had. I wondered what the hell was becoming of me but there was still cum to swallow.
Connor exhaled hard, pulling out just enough to let the last spurts coat my tongue. “Show me.”
I opened my mouth, tongue out, slick with him.
“Swallow.”
I did, throat working. Showed him clean after.
Connor leaned back, sweat gleaming across his chest, faint smile tugging at his lips. “Good work.”
I licked the last trace from my lips, smile on my face.
When it was done I stayed on my knees, spit and sweat clinging to my face, throat raw, chest rising heavy. Connor leaned back on the bench with his eyes closed, like he’d just finished training, and Aiden was still chuckling, cock softening but hanging thick from what he’d done to me.
I lowered my head. “Thank you for your loads, Sirs.”
That set them both off. Aiden bent double laughing, clutching his stomach. Connor shook his head, smirking down at me. “You’re unreal,” he said, still grinning.
“Good boy,” Aiden added, mocking but not unkind. “Who the fuck thanks someone for that?”
My face burned, but something inside me swelled with it anyway. Mocking or not, it was praise.
They pulled themselves together, trading a look that said they’d wrung me dry exactly how they wanted. Connor stood, stretching, clapping Aiden’s shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s meet the others.”
They left me kneeling, their sweat and cum still thick in my mouth, body trembling in the cage. I sat back on my heels and breathed.
I wasn’t just the gay boy anymore. Not to them. I was the toy. The outlet. The one they could use however they wanted. And the fucked-up thing was, I wanted it too. Every order, every filthy thing they’d made me swallow only wound me tighter.
The thought should have scared me. Instead, it lit me up.
I couldn’t imagine going back to normal after this. A week here had already stripped me down to something I barely recognized, and yet I felt more honest than I ever had. If this was who I really was — desperate, caged, begging to serve — then I wasn’t ready for it to end.
I’d have to find a way to keep it going past the vacation. One way or another
This story is in its 28th chapter
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