The Fall
I was up early Thursday morning. I rushed to the shower and turned it on cold. I was shaking under the cold water that felt more like tiny spikes hitting my skin. I was hot, horny, and I was angry.
I think anyone would be. I woke up from a hot and steamy wet dream only to find out in horror that I had cum all over my bed. I bathed and headed out into the bedroom, pulling off my bed covers and putting them in the apartment washer.
Shit, I was furious when I got the ring on my phone. I looked over at it, annoyed, it was from Jack. I sat in my living room only to realize that I was yet again naked just wearing my cock cage and nothing else.
The clothing just made me feel more constrained, and I was over that shit. Besides, I liked my free balls to just hang now, and even my cock at 4 inches to hang, even with that cage over it.
Whatever, I thought, and I swiped to open the text message. It had been sent Tuesday at 8 PM. Strange, I thought, but then I realized I had been with Sam that night.
The first missed text read: Hey Dean, pick up. Please, I need to tell you something.
The next text was at 11 PM that same day: “Hey Dean, I tried calling you, but it kept sending me to voicemail. Is everything alright? Anyway, I’m texting you because the friend I came to visit is in poor health. I’m really sorry to do this to you, but I will not be back in town till Saturday.”
My heart froze, a knot forming in my gut as I realized I would be fucking caged till Saturday. I was tempted to just grab the phone and smash it then and there. But after talking myself out of it, I thought it was honorable what Jack was doing. There was nothing for me to complain about.
I replied: “No problem. See you Saturday.”
I stared at my phone screen until the words blurred. My thumb hovered over the group chat - one text and I'd make it real. Fuck. I hammered out the message: "Guys, it's fucking over. Jack's not getting back till Saturday. Some 'sick friend' bullshit."
The replies came fast:
Dave: Well, shit.
Sam: Fuck, that really sucks, buddy.
I could almost hear Sam's dramatic sigh through the phone. My fingers moved before I could think: Tell me about it.
Then Dave, ever the fixer: OK no - we're not wasting a good Friday. Got my pool here (🌴🎈)
Sam, right on cue: I'll handle drinks and a food tray. 🍹
Dave: Whatcha say, Dean? Friends' pool party to just relax and fuck around with your best friends? 😊
I exhaled hard through my nose. These fuckers knew me too well: Yeah, I'm in. Chips, salsa, dessert's on me.
Dave: I'm still only offering my home and pool. 😊
Sam: "You would, you cheap bitch!"
Just like that, we were off - the familiar rhythm of insults and emoji warfare washing over me. Friday was saved, just not the way I'd planned. No getting laid, but at least I'd be with the two assholes who'd (probably) keep me from drowning my sorrows in my own bad decisions.
Friday rolled around, and I hit the local supermarket to grab a few things. Nathan, one of the stockers, usually helped me speed through my shopping. Kid was 18, Latino, with caramel-colored eyes and a lean, sculpted runner’s build—track since he was 13. Friendly as hell, too.
He waved when he spotted me in the aisle, ducking around a pyramid of canned pasta. I was hunting for razors and shaving cream, and a few other things for this pool Party tonight. I was half-zoned out from this constant stress, when his voice snapped me back.
“Hey Dean, how’s it going?”
I turned—and froze. His gaze locked onto my crotch like a homing beacon.
Shit. In my rush, I’d thrown on gray sweat shorts and a tee. No underwear. And now Nathan was getting a front-row show. my cock and balls bounced as I took a few step toward him.
“Hey Nathan,” I said, forcing casual. Play dumb. Always play dumb.
He cleared his throat, adjusted himself. “What can I help you with today?”
I shoved my list at him in a desperate move to get him focused on something else other than my cock. He grabbed my list, but his eyes flicked back down—just for a heartbeat—before he nodded. We kept it brisk after that, though I caught him lingering twice more on my ass and then my crotch as if he did not know where to look. Didn’t matter. I was out in under ten minutes.
The phone buzzed as I drove home to change. Sam's name flashed on the screen.
"Hey Sam, what's up man?" I answered, trying to sound casual despite the constant ache between my legs.
"Good news," Sam's voice came through, too calm. "Found the right drill bit. I can get that cage off you, no problem."
My grip tightened on the wheel. Finally. This fucking thing would be gone."That's awesome. Can you swing by my place before the party?" I tried not to sound desperate.
Sam chuckled, the sound knowing. "listen - at Dave's place, it'll take two tops. Dave grills, I drill." Another laugh, like this was some inside joke.
I swallowed hard. The cage bit into my skin as I shifted in the seat. Not ideal. Not fucking ideal at all. But what choice did I have?
"Alright, no problem," I forced a laugh. "See you at Dave's."
Dave’s house sat at the dead end of a failed cul-de-sac, the last holdout in a neighborhood that never happened. Six overgrown lots stretched between him and the nearest neighbors—ghosts of a developer’s bankruptcy.
Turning onto his street felt like crossing a border. The town’s chatter and streetlights cut off abruptly, leaving only a winding road flanked by skeletal lampposts that hadn’t worked in years.
Dave adored the isolation. His backyard bled into acres of untouched land—just swaying grass and the occasional twisted tree, rolling all the way to the horizon. No fences. No footprints. Nothing but the sigh of wind through dry brush.
I followed the cracked pavement uphill until his porch lights winked in the distance, twin beacons in the dark. For the first time in days, my shoulders loosened, at least here, no one would hear a damn thing, unless Sam cuts my dick off and the ambulances show up. I couldn't help but chuckle at my predicament.
I pulled in and knocked on the front door. The camera buzzed before Dave's voice crackled through the speaker:
"Backyard door and fuckin' tell me you brought food."
"Yeah, yeah, you cheap bastard," I shot back, adjusting my heavy bags in my sweaty grip.
Rounding the corner, there he was—leaning against the doorframe in nothing but a Speedo, twilight glinting off the sweat on his chest. My throat went dry. Those photos he'd sent...the way he'd pinned me down in my apartment...
Shit. A hot jolt shot straight to my cock. I clenched my jaw. Get it together. He's just Dave. But my body wasn't listening.
Come here," Dave boomed, yanking me into one of his bear hugs. Our bodies collided - chest to chest, cock to caged cock. Even through the plastic, I felt myself twitch in response. Fuck.
I covered it with our usual routine - swatting his hands away when they slid too low, the playful shove that said 'not a chance.' But this time, my laugh came half a beat too late, and my skin burned where he'd touched me.
We broke apart, falling into step down the narrow path to his backyard. The night air cooled my flushed neck. Same old Dave. Same old me. Mostly.
“I love the string lights,” I said. “Really highlights the backyard and the pool too.” Little things make the most difference, I thought. His backyard was illuminated in a soft yellow tone that made the night feel soft and inviting.
“Yeah, it really highlights the built-in grill,” Dave said with pride as he walked me over to see it. It was huge. He had gotten it done at some point since our last visit six months ago.
I handed over my supplies, but Dave already had several thick bone-in steaks. “Last thing I need is you fuckers talking shit” he laughed.
“What do you think of the large pool chairs?” he said excitedly. “They recline, and you can easily just lay and sleep on those.”
“You have the whole setup. Backyard is ready for a party,” I said.
“Go change,” Dave said, jerking his chin toward the door across the pool. “Get those sweats off,” he said playfully. The place was supposed to be his painting studio, but that plan died fast.
Not that Dave quit painting—hell no. His easel still gathered dust in the spare bedroom. Problem was, he’d already fucked every male “model” from the local colleges he’d hired as muses. The studio became a glorified changing room.
Inside, I dug out my white Speedos. My other pair was MIA, but fuck it—I wasn’t wearing shorts around my boys.
I caught my reflection in the mirror. Well, hello! All those hours grinding at the gym had paid off. Every cut and curve stood sharp under the lights. My ass, round and tight like sculpted melons, couldn’t blame my friends for salivating over them. I turned sideways, flexed. Yeah, I looked good.
Only thing killing the vibe? This goddamn cage. I palmed my junk through the fabric, the plastic biting into my head. “Hang tight,” I muttered. “Sam’ll get you out soon.” And then? I was gonna wreck somebody, I smiled to myself. Stud like me never had any trouble getting a good bottom to moan and beg for more of me.
I stepped outside just as Dave was ending his call. "Yeah, it's gonna be awesome. We can share," he said, laughing into the phone. A beat. "Yeah, we can try that " Another dark chuckle. "Well we won't be too nice"
He pocketed his phone without noticing me at first. When he turned and saw me standing there, his grin didn't fade - it just changed. Like he'd been caught, but didn't mind being caught at all.
I walked into the pool area, I was still sulking I guess. I put my hand in the water, expecting the water to be cold and freezing, but to my surprise, it was warm.
“Yup, I left that sucker uncovered all day. The radiant heat should be kicking in,” Dave yelled out to me as he went back to check on the steaks.
I took it all in. Dave had his house, and by all accounts, it was a real home, impeccably decorated, inside and out.
The plastic cage still clung to my cockhead like some kind of perverse crown as I sank into the poolside chair. I ignored it - or tried to. The chair creaked under my weight, sturdy as I leaned back and let the night air lick across my skin. Moonlight probably glinted off the fucking thing. Didn't matter. I knew how I looked stretched out here - all muscle and attitude, the cage just making the package more... interesting. The tightness around my dick throbbed with every heartbeat, a constant reminder that tonight wasn't about what I wanted or had planned. But at least I would be free of this cage holding my cock head hostage.
"I'm here, bitches!" Sam's voice cracked through the backyard like a firework as he kicked open the door. Arms stacked with grocery bags, soda cans threatening to topple, he looked like a hurricane in designer jeans. Damn he looked good in his tight teenage boy shirt and skinny jeans.
Dave swooped in to grab the food bags while Sam wrestled with an armful of blankets and clothing. "Hey buddy," Dave offered, "need some help?"
Sam flashed that razorblade smile. and Dave grabbed some of the bags from him. "Dean be a doll and grab my gym bag from the car? I was in such a rush" He said it, sweet as honey.
"Yeah, I got you," I muttered, already moving toward the driveway. My pulse hammered - this nightmare was almost over. "That blue junker of yours, right?" I couldn't resist needling him.
Sam's gasp was theater-worthy. "Oh we're throwing shade now?" He hip-checked me toward the door, all sass and swinging elbows. He really was lovely when he was being super gay "Clock's ticking, princess. Any slower and your margarita's going to be extra Virgin, he quipped before Laughing”
I made it out to the car and lifted the back seat. There was his gym bag. I opened it as curiosity got the best of me.
The bag felt military-grade sturdy, the kind that costs more than Sam's truck. Inside: Two telescoping phone stands of sorts, two industrial-sized lube bottles, an assortment of cock rings, a full leather harness with enough straps to tie down a small boat, multiple poppers, and - LORD! - a butt plug that looked quite large for a sex toy.
Buried beneath it all, the drill bit and attachments.
Finally! I thought.
I zipped the bag shut like I was hiding evidence. When I got back, Sam and Dave cut their conversation mid-sentence. Their matching grins didn't reach their eyes.
"Find everything okay?" Sam asked, too innocent. Dave busied himself with the cooler, suddenly very interested in ice distribution.
"Here you go, buddy. Strawberry Madness Margarita with my special blend of... deadly ingredients," Sam purred, sliding the glass toward me with a magician's flourish.
"Only for the brave," we chanted in ragged unison. The old call-and-response we'd done a hundred times before. Dave snorted into his drink - we all knew Sam's theatrics by heart.
The first round went down easy. We bullshitted about past hookups and potential targets, the way guys do when they're half-hard and fully drunk. Stud behavior, really. Classic us.
Sam vanished and reappeared with fresh glasses. This batch hit different - bitter with the kick of a spooked stallion. "The hell's in this?" I coughed.
Dave grimaced. "Jesus, Sam. This is biological warfare."
Sam just flashed that devilish grin. "Only for the brave." The challenge hung in the air like a dangling knife.
Dave's glass hit the table empty. I followed suit. No way in hell we'd let him win this pissing contest.
"Pool's calling, boys," Sam announced, his voice already dripping with mischief. The alcohol hummed pleasantly through me as I watched him peel off his shirt with deliberate slowness, revealing that golden swimmer's body I'd seen a hundred times - yet somehow never quite like this.
His shorts followed, catching on his hips for just a heartbeat before dropping. The trimmed trail of hair led my eyes downward before I caught myself. When had he stopped wearing underwear? Sam's cock and balls swung out as if cheering their liberation.
"Clock's ticking," Sam teased, stretching his arms overhead with feline grace. The pool lights caught the water droplets already glistening down his chest. Then he was airborne - all lean muscle, naked and careless abandon - slicing into the water his round hairless ass barely making a splash.
The ripples were still dancing across the surface when I realized I'd been holding my breath.
Before anyone notices I kept into The water, alcohol buzzing through my veins, already feeling drunk, very drunk, how strange. Through the chlorine stung, I saw Sam pause mid-laugh, his gaze snagging on movement at the pool's edge.
Dave stood haloed in golden light, his Speedo now a dark puddle at his feet. Moonlight gilded the dense thatch of auburn hair across his chest, trailing down to where his thick cock hung heavy between powerful thighs. Wrestler's shoulders, fighter's hands - all of him built for leverage and force.
"Damn." Sam's exhale hit my ear like a shotgun blast, hot and sudden.
Dave flashed us that wolfish grin - the one that always meant trouble. He palmed himself, giving us a slow front row seat as he deliberately stroked before releasing with a smirk. Just long enough to make sure we saw everything. Then he was airborne, knees tucked to his chest, hitting the water with a slap that sent a wall of warm water crashing over us.
The shock should've sobered me. Instead, it just sent Sams poisoned margarita surging blood into my cock, it thickening between my legs as I watched Dave surface. Sam's elbow dug into my ribs - some comment about me staring - but the words dissolved in the humid air. Couldn't have mattered less. The water was warm. Dave was fucken hot! And my dick didn't give a single fuck how drunk I was compared to them.
“OK, it’s your turn,” Sam said, and before I knew it, he was hugging me from behind, his hard cock pressing against my back. The rational part of me knew this was messed up. Knew I'd never have let this slide sober. But between the poison from the drinks swimming in my veins and the constant ache between my legs, all I could muster was a slurred, "The hell you doing?"
Sam didn't answer. Just palmed me through my Speedo, his thumb finding the lock on my cage. I hissed. Three weeks of denied sexual orgasms had rewired me - his touch burned like a brand.
Dave's grin flashed in my periphery. "Looks like someone's finally playing nice. Let me help you with this,” he said, pulling off my Speedo and then coming in for a bear hug.
I should've kneed them both in the balls. Should've walked out. Instead, my head tipped back as Sam's fingers dug in harder. The cage hurt like hell, I never wanted him to stop.
I moaned as I felt Sam’s hard cock wedged itself between my ass cheeks and Dave’s body pressed against mine, his hard cock pressing into my own caged cock.
Sam's mouth hit my neck first—hot, wet open-mouthed kisses trailing up to my ear. Then Dave's teeth grazed the other side, and suddenly I was bookended between them. "Ooohhh shit, guys," I gasped, fingers digging into someone's shoulders (whose, I couldn't tell).
Dave dragged me into a kiss—all scratchy beard and whiskey-sour tongue. Sam ground against me from behind, his cock a relentless pressure sliding against my hole and ass cheeks.
Shit. Shit. Shit. The protest rattled in my skull but never made it to my mouth. My hips jerked back instead, answering what my brain wouldn't admit.
Dave guided me to the pool steps, positioning me perfectly - legs spread on the bottom step, ass hovering just above the waterline. My face leveled with his thick cock swaying before me, beads of water tracing its length. The contrast burned through my haze: cool night air on my back, the heat of his body radiating against my cheeks.
Dave’s fingers dug into my jaw as he tilted my head back. At six-foot-fucking-five, he loomed over me, his thick cock bobbing at eye level—already leaking. "You know what to do, Dean."
No hesitation. My lips parted and he fed himself in slow, that first inch stretching my mouth wide. I sucked instinctively, hand working his shaft in rhythm, the salt-bitter taste flooding my tongue.
"That’s it," Dave growled, hips nudging forward. "That’s how you suck dick, slut."
The word burned through me. “Slut”
Fuck.
I remembered saying the same shit to every twink I’d ever bent over—how their whimpers got louder when I snarled it in their ear. How I loved watching their faces as they bitched out or even better when I would pop their cherry…Calling them “Slut’s” Now here I was, cheeks hollowed around Dave’s cock, that word branding me. The irony tasted sharper than pre-cum.
The gym bag hit the concrete with a thud near Dave. Through watery eyes, I saw Sam looming over us, that shit-eating grin plastered across his face as Dave's thick cock stretched my lips.
"He's really good at this," Sam bragged, like he'd discovered some hidden talent.
"Natural-born cocksucker," Dave grunted, fingers tangling in my hair to shove himself deeper. I gagged, shoulders jerking, but Dave held firm. My choked gargles only made him thrust harder.
"Good bottoms take it and don't complain," Dave barked, nailing me to the spot with each punishing push. No mercy. No adjustments. Just his fat dick claiming my throat like he owned it.
"MMMMMMHHH—" The moan tore from my throat before I could choke it back. Sam's tongue pressed against my hole, relentless and knowing, while my cock twitched like a live wire between my legs. Every nerve screamed betrayal, but it felt too good. My drunk buzz blurred the edges, made resistance feel stupid when pleasure pulsed this hot through my veins.
"Gasp—!" I choked as Dave's cock slipped from my throat. He stepped back, water sluicing off that fire-hydrant body of his—thick thighs, that trail of red hair leading to his dick, just like in those fucking pictures he'd taunted me with. "Come get it," he rumbled, slapping his cock against my cheek.
I lunged forward, pool water sloshing as I took him deep again. No finesse, just hunger.
"That's a good slut," Dave praised, fingers tangling in my hair. The words should've burned. Instead, my hips jerked.
Sam chose that moment to spear his tongue inside me—one slow, wet thrust—and my legs shook like a rookie's first time. The realization hit between pulses of pleasure: They're treating me exactly how I treat my conquests. And the worst part? I was fucking into it.
"Hand me the Butt plug," Sam commanded. Dave dangled the buzzing thing before my bleary eyes. "Recognize this, princess?" The click of the switch sent vibrations nudging my sessions with Jack
Protest died in my throat as Sam snatched the plug and slicked it with lube. "Did I fucking say you could stop?" Dave growled, sheathing himself to the hilt down my gagging throat. The sudden burn of poppers flooded my nostrils - three ragged breaths forced into my lungs as my vision swam.
I arched my back, a muffled scream vibrating around Dave's cock as Sam pressed the cold plastic Plugg against my hole. One relentless push and - "Christ, he took it full depth on the first try!" Sam crowed.
"Told you," Dave rumbled, fingers twisting in my hair as I convulsed around him. "Just needed proper motivation." The words barely registered through the haze of poppers, spit, and the cruel fullness splitting me in two.
"Look at that!" Sam's voice cut through the popper haze almost mocking in its tone. as his finger traced the outline of my hard cock, jutting obscenely against my stomach. "Such a good fucking slut." The words slithered into my ear as I took another three quick hits, the world tilting sideways as chemicals burned through my veins.
Strong hands maneuvered me onto the pool chair like meat on a slab. Dave wedged himself between my thighs, one hand circling my throat while the other gripped the plug's base. "Eyes on me, slut," he growled. With one smooth pull, he yanked it free - the sudden emptiness making me arch off the chair.
"Fuck yeah," Sam crowed from behind Dave, phone in hand recording my downfall, voice thick with alchohol and lust. "Look at his face. He's giving in to this" he said with joy.
Dave's grip tightened on my windpipe. "I said LOOK AT ME." The plug slammed back in, stretching me wider this time. My shout died in my throat as Sam leaned down to flick my leaking cock. "Still hard," he marveled, like I was some fascinating experiment. "This bitch was born for it."
Dave crossed the space between us in one predatory move, pressing me back against the pool chair. His mouth crashed into mine - not a kiss but a brand, all alcohol and teeth and ownership. "We know you're a stone hard top, Dean," he growled against my lips, his cock pressed against mine. "Months of planning. Pushing Jack at you. All those 'try something new' pep talks." His tongue traced my bottom lip. "This was always the endgame."
Sam's fingers twisted in my hair, yanking my head back as that familiar bottle clicked open beneath my nose. Three sharp breaths. The room dissolved into liquid heat.
Dave's mouth moved to my throat. "We trained you proper," he murmured, voice thick with pride. "Gonna make you the most desperate, cock-hungry bottom this town's ever seen."
I should've been furious. Should've fought. But the chemicals and craving turned my spine to honey, leaving me just lucid enough to realize how perfectly I'd been played - and how badly I wanted it anyway.
"Tonight's the night, princess," Dave purred, stepping back to let Sam slot between my thighs.
Sam's palm weighed heavy on my cage, his smile razor-sharp. "Showtime." The pressure sent a jolt through me, my body arching off the chair as pleasure and poisons collided. Somewhere in the haze, I realized they'd won - and the moan tearing from my throat sounded suspiciously like gratitude.
Behind me, the pool chair clicked as Dave adjusted it with surgeon's precision. The backrest tilted just shy of torture. No leverage. No escape. His hands locked under my knees, folding me in half like cheap lawn furniture. My arms slid off the sides - boneless, already obedient.
"Time to collect our prize," Dave rumbled.
Sam's voice dripped down my spine: "Look at me, Dave." A pause. "Always knew you got hard watching cherry boys pop their first cock..." the chair creaked as he leaned in. "Turns out I've got the same fucking kink."
I barely got my head up before fire tore through me. Sam buried himself to the root in one vicious thrust.
"GOD! FUCK!" My spine bowed off the chair, every muscle locked in shock. He didn't fuck me - he excavated me, hammering into virgin territory. Toes curled against empty air, legs flailing like a gutted fish. Only Dave's vise grip kept me from flying apart
"Yeah, your perfect slut," Sam growled, hands vise-locked on my chest. "Christ, Dean... this ass..." His words dissolved into grunts, each snap of his hips punctuated by the wet slap of skin
Dave's laugh was dark as the space between stars. "Told you breaking him in was worth the wait and the Pay"
Sam's only response was to fuck me harder, his face a mask of pure hunger.
“Look at your hole, Dean,” Dave ordered, and I looked down to see Sam’s dick plunging in deep, his balls slapping my body. As he pulled out, my asshole was pulled out too, as if not wanting to let go of Sam’s cock.
Moans tore from my throat—high, broken sounds I didn’t recognize as mine. Sam’s hips pistoned into me, each slam knocking the breath from my lungs. Dave’s arms locked around my chest, his lips pressed to my ear as he pinned me for Sam’s use.
"We’ve fantasized about wrecking this tight ass for years," Dave murmured. His fingers dug into my hips. "Look at you now—taking it like you were made for this."
I glanced down between thrusts. My caged cock jerked pathetically, dripping strings of pre-come onto my stomach. A fucking mess. Sam’s rhythm turned brutal, making my trapped dick bounce—each impact sending jolts of pleasure-pain through my trapped length.
"he’s leaking like a faucet," Dave growled, licking a stripe up my neck. "All that top energy… just needed the right motivation."
Sam’s nails bit into my thighs as he bottomed out with a snarl. I arched, strung tight between them—ruined, owned, converted.
The poppers hit my bloodstream like a lightning strike. My head swam, pleasure crackling through every nerve. "Fuck," I gasped, lips curling into a dumb, blissed-out grin.
Sam's teeth grazed my earlobe. "Jack didn't come cheap, buddy," he murmured. "Worth every penny to break you in."
"I'm gonna—" Sam's voice tightened. He wrenched free of my grip and swung a leg over my face in one fluid motion. "Swallow it, slut." The first hot spurt hit my tongue. "That's it—just like I taught you that other night"
I moaned around him, chasing each salty pulse. My throat worked on instinct, lips sealed tight like a good toy. Sam ground his hips down, smearing the last drops across my chin as he whispered filth that made my cock twitch: "Perfect... born to take it..."
“Now it's Daddy's turn," Dave growled, flipping me onto all fours. My face landed inches from Sam's phone lens, the red recording light burning into my dignity. "Eyes on camera, slut."
I barely had time to focus before Dave's thick crown breached me. Bigger than Sam. Thicker. A relentless stretch that stole my breath as he sank deeper. The phone captured every twitch of my face - the flinch, the surrender, the moment my body accepted him.
"Fuck, yeah virgin tight back here," Dave groaned. His hands dug into my hips. "Gonna fix that."
No warning. Just pure, brutal piston strokes that knocked sounds from my throat I didn't recognize - half-sob, half-wail. Sam's laughter curled around me as they took turns taunting me:
"What a fucken Slutttttt."
"Look at his face - hes loves getting fucked"
Their high-five cracked above me. Victory.
The anger should've been there. The shame should've burned. But all I tasted was copper and want as my body betrayed me, chanting "Yesss—fuck me, fuck me—" in a voice that didn't sound like mine anymore. Every thrust blurred the line between violation and revelation.
"Touch yourself," Sam commanded, phone light glinting off my sweat-slicked chest. My hand moved without permission, stroking in time with Dave's punishing rhythm.
"First load incoming, princess," Dave rasped, fingers bruising my hips.
Sam's laugh was all teeth. "I pop the cherry, but Dave gets to give you your first cream filling!"
The filth pouring from my mouth shocked even me—"Harder, Dave, make me your bitch"—each syllable driving him wilder. He pistoned into me like a man possessed, Sam's camera drinking in every twitch of my ruined face.
"I'm gonna paint your guts, slut!" Dave roared. Bottoming out, he locked me in place reaching out with both hands to grip my hair and pull me up as heat flooded my insides. Cum spilled down my thighs in thick ropes while lightning arced up my spine,and for one fractured second, I understood why bottoms always came back for more.
"That's the fucking shot!" Sam's voice boomed as the camera captured every twitch of my tongue across slick lips, every flutter of my drunk and high -out eyelids, the way my throat vibrated with a moan too deep to fake.
The world tilted as Dave hauled me over his shoulder like a sack of grain. Sam's hands were everywhere at once - wiping sweat from my chest, pinching my nipples just shy of pain, smearing the spit from my mouth across my cheek as he "cleaned" me. My bare ass hit cold air as they carried me upstairs, Sam's laughter bouncing off the walls.
The bedroom light stabbed my eyes. Sam reappeared with a bottle of cloudy gray liquid that swirled like a storm. "Liquid courage," he crooned, thumb prying my jaw open. The first sip tasted like battery acid and bad decisions. I choked but he tipped it higher, water spilling down my chin as my throat worked helplessly.
The mattress swallowed me whole. Colors bled at the edges - ceiling fan blades melting into strobe lights, Sam's face distorting above me. A metallic “snap” cut through the fog. He dangled the last jagged piece of my cage between thumb and forefinger, grinning like he'd won the lottery.
"He's ready." Sam's declaration slithered down my spine.
Dave's voice came from somewhere near the tripod: "Camera's rolling." he said with joy and excitement.
Dave flopped onto his back and barked the order like he was changing a TV channel: "Sit on it." My body moved before my brain could protest - hips sinking, thighs clamping tight around his waist as I started riding him like my life depended on it. Some broken part of me was grinning, whimpering, chanting "I'm a bottom slut" every time Dave growled "What are you?"
Then the world tilted. Dave yanked me flush against his chest, legs splaying wide to open me up further. His hand fisted in my hair, forcing me to meet his eyes. "This ass?" He thrust up hard. "Belongs to us now."
I barely had time to scream before Sam's cockhead breached me, stretching my already stuffed hole. "C'mon, slut,open up" Sam cooed, all fake sympathy." My back arched as he bottomed out, the burn blurring into something terrifyingly close to pleasure.
The glass vial pressed against my flaring nostrils - that familiar chemical sting. Three sharp inhales burned down my throat as the world dissolved into liquid heat. My body betrayed me instantly, muscles unclenching around their invading cocks like a flower blooming for sunlight.
That's when they found it - that secret place deep inside where pain twisted into pleasure. A strangled sob tore from my throat even as my back arched. Tears streaked sideways down my face, but my hips became their perfect puppet, rocking frantically between their thrusts.
"F-fuck!-" The protest died as my traitorous body convulsed around them. Every nerve sang with wrong-right pleasure, my cock leaking helplessly between us. They'd turned me inside out - crying and begging even as I fucked myself back on their cocks like my life depended on it. A double-stuffed plaything strung between shame and mindless ecstasy.
"Yessss, fuck! HARDER!" The words tore from my throat as Sam and Dave's laughter curled around me like smoke. Their grips bit into my hips, fingers bruising, holding me open and begging.
"What do you want, Dean?" Dave growled, driving deeper.
"FUCK ME!" I screamed, voice cracking. No pride left. No thought. Just need.
Sam's palm cracked against my ass. "You love taking cock like a cheap slut, don't you?" His thrusts punctuated each word.
"YES! God, YES!" I sobbed, back arching to give my friends an easier opening into my hole.
Dave's teeth scraped my shoulder. "Still a top, buddy?" He punctuated the lie with a brutal snap of his hips.
"I'M A BOTTOM!" The confession ripped out of me as pleasure coiled white-hot in my gut. "Fuck, I'm your fucking bottom!"
The room dissolved into sweat and snarls and the wet slap of skin. No going back now.
"I'm getting close!" Sam barked, his thrusts turning jagged and desperate. Dave answered with a guttural roar, his grip bruising my hips as he pistoned into me. Then - miracle of fucking miracles - my body betrayed me completely. I came untouched, screaming into dave's chest as my cock spasmed, painting us both in helpless ropes.
Sam came first with a curse, slamming home so deep I felt his pulse inside me. Dave followed seconds later, grinding his entire length in my ass as he emptied himself. The overstimulation wrenched another broken moan from my throat.
Sam pulled out with a filthy, wet sound that made me whimper. "Atta boy," Dave murmured, swatting my reddened ass cheek as he withdrew.
I lay wrecked, trembling through the aftershocks. Sam returned with a warm towel, wiping me down with unsettling tenderness. The facts settled over me like a shroud:
Sam's cock had popped my cherry.
Dave's cum had been my first load
And they both had double stuffed me
And I'd begged for every second of it like a $20 whore.
"Come on, big boy." Sam hauled me up, his grip firm under my arm as he steered me toward the shower. Behind us, Dave yelled something about salvaging the steaks, his perfect ass flexing as he bolted outside - a last glimpse of normalcy before everything tilted again.
The water hit scalding. Sam's hands moved with purpose, scrubbing away sweat and cum and shame. When my cock stiffened under his touch, he didn't hesitate. A sharp push between my shoulder blades sent me to my knees, then all fours on the slick tile.
"I'll take care of this," he promised darkly.
The stretch burned for just a heartbeat before melting into something terrifyingly good. My back arched instinctively, a broken "AAAAA!" ripped from my throat as he bottomed out.
"You feel that?" Sam's teeth grazed my earlobe, his thrusts already settling into a brutal rhythm. "All those years playing tough-guy top..." A particularly deep snap of his hips punched a whimper from me. "...when you were born to take cock like this."
The worst part? Some traitorous part of me believed him. As his pace turned punishing, all I could think was: “yes, give me more”
"On your back, Dean." The command came rough against my ear as he sheathed himself inside me again. My legs hooked over his shoulders like a surrender flag, his hips flush against my ass.
He paused there, buried to the hilt, just to watch me - my whimpers, the flutter of my eyelids, the way my mouth went slack when he flexed inside me. "Just as tight as the first time," he marveled, grinning at the way my body gripped him.
Sam pistoned into me with mechanical precision, each thrust yanking my balls up tight against my body. "Gonna cum while getting fucked again, aren't you?" he taunted, fingers digging into my knees as he spread me wider.
"Yessss," I hissed through clenched teeth, my body arching off the shower floor as my legs were stretched flat. The bastard was right - I could feel it building, that coil of pleasure-pain winding tighter with every slam of his hips.
"Look at you," Sam growled, my muscles burning. "My big fucking top, taking it like a natural." His eyes drank me in - the sweat, the strain, the way my cock leaked against my stomach.
"Hands behind your head, slut. Show me what's mine."
I obeyed, biceps flexing as the orgasm detonated. "I'm cumming!" The warning tore from my throat as three thick ropes shot across my chest, my chin, the shower wall above me, marking myself with my own surrender. Sam never slowed, fucking me through the convulsions until my vision whited out.
Sam snarled through gritted teeth, hips slamming flush against me as he emptied himself deep inside my well-used hole. The tiles bit into my back, the hot water long gone cold.
Then impossibly his lips brushed my neck, tender as a lover's. "Such a good slut," he murmured, all honey and venom. The contrast made my spent cock twitch much to my surprise.
He pulled out with a wet sound, leaving me splayed across the shower floor—”just another used slut” I used to tell them and not … this was happening to me. My chest heaved. The ache between my legs throbbed in time with my heartbeat.
Christ help me, I licked my lips as I lay sprawled on the shower floor. My limbs felt like wet sandbags as I struggled to roll onto my knees. The tiles pressed cold against my bare skin while the water pounded my back - the perfect metaphor for this whole fucked-up situation.
I finally staggered into the bedroom, my mind racing. There was no pretending anymore. I'd crossed that line - pushed, yes, manipulated, absolutely - but I'd fucking leapt when they said jump. And the worst part? My body still hummed with the aftershocks of how much I'd enjoyed it.
Through the window, their laughter carried like carnival music. "Did you see that shit?" Sam crowed, doing some ridiculous victory shimmy, his naked body glistening, his cock swayed seductively. "Motherfucker loved it! Was begging for more by the end!"
Dave's grin matched Sam's as they smacked palms over the grill, their naked bodies gleaming in the porch light. "Should we go get him?" Dave asked, expertly flipping a steak one-handed while his erection stood at attention - already hard again, like this was just another round to him.
Sam smiled, his teeth catching the light. "Let the slut come down when he's ready." He dragged a finger through the condensation on his beer bottle. "I mean... we've got all night."
Through the window, I watched them, my cock betraying me as it swelled against my thigh. Shit. What the hell had I gotten myself into? The more my brain screamed danger, the harder I got, blood rushing south like my body had its own fucking agenda.
