The remaining 6 players compete in a Edging & Milking themed round. Lots of loads are spilled and alliances and deals begin to blow up. One player makes a bold move and betrays their biggest friend in the house. Will it work out for him?
The 7 remaining contestants compete in the next round of the competition. The theme for this round is CBT. The contestant to endure the most pain will be the victor. Meanwhile, New alliances are formed, Deals are made, and one contestant playing both sides is exposed. Who will be next to go?
Spark wakes full of Joren's cock and spends the morning licking the shaft clean. Then the palace calls. The fountain's routing is dead and someone erased the reason why. The crew strips at the old altar — Garrick inside Vesper, Joren elbow-deep, Spark swallowing everything. Raw dick-and-ass magic, weekly.
Dexter Holt, a sun-bronzed giant used to felling oaks, has become the "timber" himself. Shackled in steel, the woodsman roars in shame as a vacuum sleeve tears at his raw, unhewn "trunk." Under stimulation, his iron muscles shatter, turning the rugged savage into a leaking pump that yields liters of thick "sap."
Beer arrives in a surprising way. The crew experiences Joren's body from a new perspective—thumb-sized and laughing. Magic transforms a young warrior, and the night celebrates connection.
Lee, chucked out from home, lost his job due to Covid, cannot get into another apprentice programme, cannot keep up his bills, agreed to pay in meat and spunk ...
A decommissioned military AI, repurposed as a luxury sex robot. A buyer who never reads the fine print. The program runs to completion. Completion is not defined. Behind the visor, a priority stack that once decided who lived and who died now calculates something worse: how to make a man happy against his will.
Three weeks in a realm with no men, no ale, and no skin contact. The crew is running on fumes. Lirael decides the bond needs finishing his way. Joren's pride may not survive it.
A new, fun story about Robbie and Mark, frontman and guitarist of a world-famous band, as they balance a relationship that’s both private and public. There’s a bit of humor, some teasing and jokes, and of course their closeness, as they’re so comfortable with each other, even with cameras and fans catching glimpses of their moments.
A suspended girl learns what her body is for. Two trained boys, one caged and one uncaged, work her open on command while their own holes still ache from the morning's lesson. Burning balm keeps every nerve lit. She holds the edge until holding costs more than falling. The first orgasm rewrites her.
He was moaning softly — low, breathy sounds that carried on the evening breeze — head tilted back slightly, seductive smile flickering on and off his lips as if he were performing for someone.
The crew enters the sunlit courtyard, facing three chairs arrayed around a marble basin amid gathering watchers. The realm demands a three-hour public milk ritual from the Eternal Rods—what endurance will it require?
After weeks of increasingly intimate nude edging sessions, Tyler times Noah as he strokes nonstop. Noah hits exactly one minute and climaxes hard. Tyler praises him, kisses him softly on the lips, grins, then says they move to stage two before leaving, leaving Noah breathless and wondering.
What happens when a big beast loses his last spark of reason? Marcus’s tiny brain shorts out, leaving his enormous, lead-heavy dong to dictate the rhythm. No thoughts, no pride just a glistening, IQ-zero hulk of leaking muscle and primal hunger. Witness the elite athlete become pure, braindead meat.
John, the ultimate alpha, is now a trapped stallion in Alex’s high-tech stable. His 190cm frame is a map of strained muscle and glistening sweat, held immobile by industrial steel. Surrounded by screens showing him being dominated by machines, John’s ego shatters
The basement gym smelled like last night—dried cum, lingering sweat, cedar body wash, and the sharp bite of fresh lube I’d already warmed in my palm. I’d dragged the heavy oak captain’s chair out again, same one with the thick arms and iron-reinforced legs that could take 250 pounds of thrashing muscle without complaint.
Cocks as swords! Asses as portals! Sperm-piss blasts purging darkness?! Raw dick-ass fucking magic wins in this corrupted realm. In this chapter: Crew braves distorted portal, Spark sees crystalline watchers, arrives at silent Lesbian Realm seeking answers to fountain's mysterious dry spell. (No lesbian sex here)
Krishnansh and Prerna walked into the hotel lobby hand in hand. It was a mid-range place in Gurgaon — clean, quiet, with soft golden lights and a marble floor that echoed their footsteps. Prerna was smiling, her fingers laced tightly with his, squeezing every few steps like she was afraid he’d vanish.
He woke up to the familiar tug of the metal ring behind his balls. The cage had become part of his morning routine now — the first sensation before he even opened his eyes.
Toby became Alex's favorite "hose." The lanky delivery boy hangs in the frame, his freakishly long, veiny shaft deep-throated by a hungry vacuum machine. Watching raunchy studs on screen, Toby chokes on his own moans while the pump drains him dry, firing thick, endless loads
Cocks as swords! Asses as portals! Sperm-piss blasts purging darkness?! Raw dick-ass fucking magic wins in this corrupted realm. In this chapter: Spark and crew rescue corrupted priest Lirael with ritual sex, bonding him amid crystalline threats and personal hums.
Elite alphas are stripped and turned into high-yield livestock in Alex’s high-tech dungeon. Locked in leather and flooded with aphrodisiacs, massive specimens become quivering, over-stimulated machines. Escape is impossible from the pornographic storm and relentless vibration. Hour after hour of agonizing edging
Arham returned with a small dark bottle of oil — clear, scented faintly with sandalwood. He unscrewed the cap and poured a generous stream directly onto Krishnansh’s cockhead. The oil ran down the shaft in slow, warm rivulets, coating every inch, making the thick veins glisten under the dim lights.
A debt-sold lumberjack enters a young master's guest room. Calculated tenderness, whispered praise, confession extraction—dismantles every wall. The slave spills his courtroom stripping, his wife's gaze, the barracks rape. Edging and cock-slapping finish the demolition. He sleeps on the floor clutching the master's jeans, more alive than in chains.
Krishnansh stayed frozen in the lifted position, chest pressed flat to the padded table, hips up on his knees, quads tensed and trembling slightly from holding the posture.
The basement gym lights were turned low, just the warm amber glow from the wall sconces catching the sheen of sweat already rolling down Dave’s carved torso. At forty-two, my dad was still a walking wet dream.
Famous insta influencer Krishnansh arora is needed to get a physical done to get his clearance certificate from the doctor required for his upcoming football tournament. But the doctor has his own way to do the things.
An alpha that despises his ruts is left with only one option: restraint. The need for chains only crystalizes when his omega buddy has nowhere else to go.
he bruises were hidden under the tank for now dark purple halos around his nipples, skin tender and swollen from last night's clamps and sucking. Every time the fabric brushed them he winced, but the pain was duller now, more of a constant throb that made his caged cock twitch with every step.