2. The Bench #3
Big Bobby lowered the bench for the next patron.
Another dick. Fatter but shorter.
One more. Next. And next.
Tino grunted and moaned. His hole squelched with the abundance of cum.
This patron was even rougher, digging his fingers into Tino’s thighs.
He fucked like a machine, wet skin slapping, his firm cockhead sawing in and out.
The alphas hollered and applauded when Tino came, his cum splattering on the concrete floor under the bench.
It wasn’t enough.
Tino let go of his restraint. He didn’t play coy or pretend to be sore or tired. He mewled and whined and writhed in the restraints, eagerly taking dick after dick, load after load.
When the fifth alpha pulled out, Tino’s asshole remained loose and open, and creamy liquid oozed out of it.
Splat.
He needed more, dammit. He needed the cum to stay in.
“Look at that.”
Fingers dove into his fucked-out hole, burrowing inside. Three? Four?
“Fist him!”
“Fist! Fist! Fist!” the crowd chanted.
“I got something even better,” Big Bobby yelled over the noise.
With how loose he was, Tino barely felt the bud of the womb wand gliding into his hole. The change of atmosphere in the room was palpable, though.
Suddenly, even the rowdiest patrons seemed to be holding their breath.
Big Bobby did as Tino had told him. The bud pushed into the closed gate of Tino’s womb, and the pressure increased. The tip felt like a knife in the sensitive bundle of nerves.
Tino keened, his voice echoing in the quiet room.
The pressure kept increasing. The pain made Tino’s frail human body shake.
Deeper. Deeper. The bud was squashing his womb and not getting in. The closed mouth was stuck on the tip, resisting.
Tino couldn’t change forms and accept the toy into his body that way. His demonic womb was always eager to be bred, but to appear human, he needed to do this the hard way.
As Tino’s screams got louder, some alphas in the crowd grew worried. Their arousal abated, and they inched away.
But some came closer, entranced by the spectacle of this omega having his womb pried open outside of heat.
Tino found their minds in the crowd, and he slurped up their desire like a sweet cocktail from between tasteless ice cubes.
The wand kept inching deeper.
His body stiffened, his hole clenched, and one last flare of anguish forced a cry from his sore throat.
The gate gave way, and his womb tightened around the bud.
“Fuuuck!” he shouted. “It’s in me! It’s in!”
Big Bobby turned on the vibration.
A forced orgasm wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed, but with the promise of what was to come, he savored it.
Besides, with him coming violently as if he were having a seizure and the scent of his cum and slick intensifying, the alphas in the room were getting ramped up again, all of them. Big Bobby kept taunting them.
“Yeah. Look at him coming his brains out. It must hurt so good. In a couple of minutes, this hole will be ready for a real breeding. How much for coming into his womb?”
Slowly, Tino’s muscles stopped twitching. The bud slid through the channel to his womb, in and out a few times, and he whimpered but remained still.
The emptiness that came afterward was worse than the pain. He felt cold air all the way to his core.
But not for long.
A firm, long dick glided into him, the cockhead popping through the channel to his womb with only a little push.
Tino groaned, forced into yet another seizure-like orgasm.
“Fucking hell, he’s like a vacuum! Fuck! Yeah, I’ll breed you good. Fuck! Fuuck!”
The alpha rutted against his ass while Tino’s inner muscles milked his cock. His womb sucked the cum up greedily.
Eighteen alphas. Many had come already, but a few had been pacing themselves, and a few would demand another round.
They were closing in on Tino, elbowing each other out of the way in their frenzy to get a piece of him.
Someone milked his cock under the bench, but Tino had been coming dry for the past hour.
Two men lifted his head and pushed their erections into his face.
He licked the cockheads when he could, sloppy and breathless.
Someone spanked his ass while another alpha flooded his womb with cum.
He was ripped away as soon as he finished, and from the following scuffle, a victor emerged, who climbed onto the bench and sank into Tino’s womb with a beastly snarl.
Tino’s eyes rolled into his head, and he smiled.
By the end, Tino had been tied to the bench for more than three hours. Big Bobby took his turn, as promised, and the barbell deep inside Tino’s womb, together with the amount of lust in the air, could have made Tino shift into his true self.
But he didn’t.
He left the club sated, only a slight wobble in his brisk step. By the time he rounded the corner, his hole had shrunk back to normal. His womb closed around the remaining cum. It would dissolve when he changed forms, but he wanted to feel it a little while longer.
One question ruined his afterglow.
What now?
He couldn’t do this every week.
How would he feed when his need seemed to have grown ten times?