Chapter 2 #6
My body spasms again.
I want it.
God, I want it so bad I can’t breathe. I never knew I wanted to be a toy before tonight, but watching them stare at me like I’m just a piece of meat has me leaking. It’s easy to picture Walker and Miles both buried in my ass while Grant shoves his cock down my throat. I’m fucking drooling for it.
Miles chuckles, his shoves turning jagged and violent. “I think that’s a yes.”
Finn makes a noise. “Wait—you’re not actually gonna—”
“Oh, we’re gonna. Just not today.” Walker shoves his finger into my stretched-out fuckhole, forcing it in alongside Miles’ cock.
The double stretch is agonizing and perfect.
“Gotta prep this little hole first. Stretch him out nice and slow. Right, doll? Gonna turn you into the house cumdump, trained up and ready for all of us.”
Grant’s hand fists in my hair, his cock sliding back into my mouth. “Fuck yeah. Break him in, bro. Turn this cunt into our personal fuck-sleeve.”
Miles gets the memo. His rhythm hitches and his dick swells stupidly fat inside me, the head grinding right against my prostate with every thrust. My brain is already fucking soup, but Grant calling me a fuck-sleeve while Miles rearranges my guts? Yeah, man, that’s the highlight of my whole week.
Pathetic, right? Don’t care.
Miles bottoms out, his nuts slapping wet against my cheeks, and I’m gone—completely spaced out, drooling onto Grant’s shaft.
“Gonna come,” he grits out, his voice strained. “Fill him up.”
“Grant didn’t have a go yet, bro.”
“It’s fine,” Grant says, pulling out of my mouth. He lets go of my hair and strokes himself slowly, looking down at me with a lazy grin. “I like it sloppy. Gonna slide right in after you’ve creamed him, bro. This little fucktoy can use the extra lube.”
“Fuck—thanks, man.” Miles slams into me one last time, burying himself to the hilt. His whole body seizes up, every muscle locked tight. “Fuck—holy—Fuuuck!”
I feel his cock jerk inside me—once, twice, three times—pulsing hard and hot, and then he’s spilling.
Dumping his load. Flooding my fucking guts until I can feel it coating my walls with each throb.
Thick. Hot. So much of it I’m getting fuller by the second, stuffed like a fucking turkey, and all I can do is clench around him and take it.
Fuck me, I never thought about being bred before.
Like, not once (why would I?) But now I want it every fucking day.
I want to be a walking cum-tank. I want to be so full of it I can’t tell whose is whose anymore.
I want to feel it leaking out of me for hours, proof that I was used and good enough to be bred.
I want to walk outside with the house load coating my insides, knowing people would look at me and have no fucking clue I’m full of it.
I want to be on my knees, on my back, bent over the couch, anywhere—just as long as someone’s emptying their balls in me.
Yeah, man, it’s that good.
Sure, there’s this ache that’s totally physical—a stretch, a fullness, a little uncomfortable pressure low in my belly.
But my head’s so wrapped up in the idea of it that the discomfort doesn’t matter.
A dude just came in my ass. A dude pumped me full of his load, and Grant’s about to use that mess to fuck me himself.
I’m a cumdump. I’m a fucking cumdump and I’ve never been harder in my life.
It’s the filthiest thing I’ve ever felt. Because my guts are complaining, but my brain’s checked out, imagining the next time, the next load, the next guy lining up behind me, calling me a needy little whore and stuffing me full.
Miles rides out his orgasm, his cock still twitching inside me, groaning. “Fuck. You take dick so good, Kit.”
The sound of my own name feels out of place.
“Kit” is the guy who studies robotics and has a merit scholarship.
“Kit” has a family and a life. “Kit” is these guys’ bro.
But the thing lying on this couch, leaking goo and gaping for the next round, isn’t that guy.
And I don’t want to be Kit right now. I want to be the doll—the nameless, mindless fuckhole they can use and turn out until there’s nothing left but the slop between my legs.
Miles pulls out slowly, and the second his cockhead slips free, a hot gush of his cum follows, sliding out of me and slicking down my taint.
My hole flutters, trying helplessly to clench around nothing, and I know I’m gaping.
I know they can see exactly what I am now.
That knowledge makes my dick drool onto my belly.
“Fuck,” Miles breathes. His fingers find the mess dripping down my crack, scoop it up, and shove it back inside me. Two fingers, then three, pumping his cum back deep into my hole. “Clamp down, Kit. Be a good doll and hold my load.”
I’m a doll, and dolls don’t obey commands. Dolls stay loose. Dolls stay useless.
“That’s my lube you’re wasting, doll,” Grant says, stroking his meat and watching the mess with a vicious look. “You want this fat cock splitting you open? You need every drop of that to take me without tearing your tight little hole apart. Now clamp the fuck down.”
I don’t. Dolls don’t.
Grant grins. “Guess you want it rough, then.”
Walker finally lowers my legs to the couch. The second my thighs drop, gravity wins, and Miles’ cum oozes out of me again, thick and warm, sliding past my rim and pooling under my ass.
Finn groans from the floor, sounding totally blown out. “Holy shit, bro. That’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Bro’s losing his mind,” Walker says, amused. “You just emptied out two minutes ago and you’re already bricked up again.”
“Can you blame me? Look at him—taking dick after dick. Bro, I wanna go again so bad. Wanna feel that creamy hole—I don’t care.”
“Patience, virgin.” Grant says, moving around the couch. “Your dick needs to recover.”
“I’m not a—”
“He’s right,” Miles cuts in, and I feel the couch dip as he settles near my feet. “Gotta let the blood flow before you even think about round two.”
“Bro, Finn doesn’t need that much blood down there to begin with,” Walker says.
I see Finn flip him off. “Fuck you, man. My dick’s a perfectly average size.”
Grant snorts. “Is that another name for disappointing?”
Finn mutters something that sounds like “bullshit, bro” and “horse cock”, but I’m not listening anymore.
Grant is touching my face again, spreading all the spit and pre across my chin, my cheeks, my forehead.
I can see him again, and that would be a creep-ass look on his face if I wasn’t so down for it.
He thumbs my bottom lip, pulling it down, smearing wetness across my teeth.
“Our pretty little doll’s ready to come again from getting dicked down?” He doesn’t wait for an answer—not that I could give him one. He gets his hands under my arms and hauls me off the couch like I’m a bag of meat.
I’m not small. I’m five-eleven and I’ve got enough muscle to rival Walker. Grant picks me up anyway, easy, like the weight is a non-issue.
Something catastrophic happens inside my brain when he does that.
I don’t know what to call it. A short circuit. A system reboot. Whatever it is, my cock throbs, and I accept deep in my core that my new favorite thing in the world is being manhandled by men.
Grant drops onto the couch right where I was splayed, hauling me against his chest, my back to his front. I feel Miles’ load slicking the space between my cheeks and Grant’s thighs, and neither of us gives a shit.
He’s massive like this. I can feel how wide he is behind me, chest like a wall against my back. One arm bands around my waist, holding me in place, and I’m trying really hard to stay dead weight, a brainless fuck-sleeve.
“Look at you,” Grant murmurs against my ear, the heat of it sending a violent shiver down my spine.
His free hand slides down my stomach, through the mess of my own pre drying tacky on my skin.
His fingers crush my cock once, a hard squeeze that has me seeing spots before he lets go.
His fingertips find the sloppy wreck of my hole, and he presses there, pushing Miles’ cum back inside me where it belongs.
“Gaping and stuffed full of jizz. Nasty little doll.”
I flinch when he pushes two fingers in and spreads them, opening me up so more cum slides out in a filthy gush. It feels gross and degrading.
I guess I like gross and degrading a lot.
“Sensitive?” he asks. “Or do you need more?”
I don’t reply. My cock kicks anyway.
“Yeah,” he says. “Thought so.”
He lifts me.
With both hands on my thighs, he hauls me up, centering me over his lap until I feel the blunt cockhead notch against my ruined rim. The second it touches me, my body knows this is going to be different from Miles, and different from anything else tonight.
Grant is big—I know that already. But there’s knowing he’s huge, and then there’s feeling that monster nudge at my entrance.
My internal alarm screams that I’m about to be split open, gutted, and destroyed.
But my body’s begging for it. Drooling for it.
My hole is twitching so hard I can feel these desperate little spasms that want to suck him in whether my brain’s ready or not.
“So fucking eager, aren’t you? I can feel you twitching, doll. That little cunt of yours is so fucking hungry.”
He’s not wrong. My hole is fluttering against his cockhead like it’s starving, like it hasn’t been stuffed full three times already tonight. Every pulse of my rim against his thick tip just makes me want him deeper. Just makes me need him to split me open already.
“You want this fat cock?”
“Dude,” Finn says, sounding alarmed. “You’re not seriously gonna—”
Grant drops me down.
My hole fights it—flutters, spasms, clenches, gives out—and then his cockhead breaches me. I swallow a sound so big it feels like my throat tears. My vision goes white. Pain rips through my whole body.