Trevor's story (written most by AI with a few prompts and edits)

[metanoia]

Hey, first time posting (I think) and I'm kinda lazy, so I used AI to write this, mostly. Nonetheless, I think it's pretty hot so I hope you'll enjoy! 

Trevor strutted through the bustling university quad, his muscular physique and confident gait drawing envious glances from the sea of students that parted before him. His baseball cap sat slightly askew on his head, casting a shadow over his piercing blue eyes that seemed to gleam with the promise of unbridled passion and dominance. His broad shoulders and powerful biceps, the result of countless hours in the gym, rippled beneath his letterman's jacket, leaving little to the imagination. The sun kissed his golden hair and tanned skin, a testament to the countless afternoons he had spent on the baseball field, mastering the art of the home run and the subtle dance of the perfect catch.

 

As he approached the library, his thoughts drifted from his upcoming game to the clandestine desires that haunted his dreams and filled his solitary moments. His heart raced at the thought of the powerful, rough hands of a gruff trucker, the gentle yet firm touch of an experienced daddy, or the surprising strength of a bear who could handle his athletic frame. The whispers of his secret cravings grew louder as he pushed open the heavy doors, the scent of aged books and dusty knowledge mingling with the faint musk of his arousal.

 

The cool, quiet embrace of the library was a stark contrast to the chaos of the outside world. Trevor sought refuge in the farthest corner of the building, where the echoes of footsteps and hushed conversations couldn't reach him. His eyes scanned the rows of books, finally landing on a tucked-away section of the adult literature shelf. His pulse quickened as he pulled out a book titled "The Muscle Bitch's Awakening." The cover depicted a muscular young man bound and gagged, surrounded by a group of diverse, older men who leered at him with unabashed lust.

 

He hurriedly found an empty study carrel, his heart pounding in his chest. As he thumbed through the pages, the vivid descriptions of the muscle-bound hero's submission to his new masters brought a flush to his cheeks and a thickness to his cock. The scenes of public humiliation, the raw, animalistic gangbangs, and the endless streams of cum filling his body were so intense that he could almost feel the ropes cutting into his own wrists and the hot breath of his tormentors on his neck.

 

The quiet was suddenly pierced by the sound of footsteps growing closer. Trevor's heart skipped a beat as he tried to compose himself, sliding the book into his backpack just in time as Professor Harris, the burly, bearded economics professor with a penchant for leather, rounded the corner. The professor's eyes scanned the area, lingering on the empty chair in front of Trevor. The young athlete felt a bead of sweat roll down his spine as he feigned interest in his economics textbook.

 

"Trevor, I've been looking for you," Professor Harris rumbled, his voice a mix of authority and something else that made Trevor's cock twitch. The professor leaned against the desk, his leather elbow patches scraping against the wood. "I noticed you've been having some trouble with your last paper. I think you might benefit from a private tutoring session."

 

Trevor's breath hitched as he met the professor's gaze. He had always felt a strange attraction to the man, his gruff exterior and knowing smirk hinting at secrets and experiences that the young jock longed to explore. "When would that be, sir?" he asked, his voice a little too eager.

 

"How about tonight, after the library closes?" Professor Harris suggested, his eyes darkening with a glint of interest. "My office is in the basement, you won't be disturbed."

 

Trevor swallowed hard, his imagination racing with images of what this private session might entail. He nodded, his voice a whisper, "Yeah, I'll be there."

 

The rest of the day passed in a blur of anticipation and trepidation. Each hour that ticked by only served to heighten his excitement and fear of the unknown. Would Professor Harris uncover his deepest desires? Would the professor be the one to finally give him the domination and degradation he craved?

 

As the sun set, the library grew quieter, the final whispers of students fading away as they vacated the hallowed halls of knowledge. The clock chimed the hour, signaling that it was time for his rendezvous. Trevor's heart hammered in his chest as he made his way to the basement, his footsteps echoing through the empty corridors. The air grew thick with the scent of leather and something else, something primal, as he approached Professor Harris' office.

 

The door was ajar, and a sliver of warm light spilled into the hallway. Trevor pushed it open, his eyes immediately drawn to the professor sitting behind his desk, his fingers toying with the edge of a leather-bound book. Professor Harris looked up, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he took in the sight of the nervous jock.

 

"Ah, just the man I was expecting," he said, gesturing to the chair in front of him. "Take a seat, Trevor."

 

Trevor's legs felt like jelly as he approached the chair, his eyes darting around the room. It was a cluttered space, filled with books and papers, but it was the collection of leather restraints and sex toys displayed openly on the shelves that truly caught his attention. His cock grew even harder in his pants as he sat down, his palms sweaty against the cool leather of the chair.

 

"Now, about that paper," Professor Harris began, his eyes never leaving Trevor's. "It's clear you have a... unique perspective on the economy. But I think we might need to explore some alternative methods to really bring out your potential."

 

The professor's tone was low and seductive, sending shivers down Trevor's spine. He nodded, his voice a strangled sound. "Whatever you think is best, sir."

 

Professor Harris stood up, his large frame seemingly swelling in the dim light. He walked around the desk, his steps deliberate and predatory. Trevor's eyes followed him, unable to look away as the man stopped right beside him. The professor's hand reached out, gripping his chin firmly and tilting his head up. "You've got such a pretty face, such a strong body," he murmured, his thumb tracing the line of Trevor's jaw. "But it's your obedience I want to see first."

 

Without another word, Professor Harris opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a shiny silver keyring adorned with leather cuffs and chains. Trevor's eyes widened as he recognized the tools of his most secret fantasies. The professor leaned in, his beard brushing against the student's cheek as he whispered, "You're going to be my muscle bitch tonight, aren't you?"

 

Trevor's cock throbbed in his pants, begging for release as he nodded, his voice a barely audible murmur. "Yes, sir."

 

Professor Harris' smile grew wider, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he stepped back. "Good boy. Now strip," he ordered, his voice firm and unyielding.

 

Trembling with anticipation, Trevor stood and began to remove his clothes, revealing his god-like physique inch by inch. The professor's gaze roamed hungrily over him, taking in every detail, every curve and ripple of muscle. As the last piece of fabric hit the floor, Trevor felt more exposed than he ever had before. His cock jerked in response to the power dynamics playing out before him. He was the alpha jock, yet here he was, about to submit to the whims of his professor, a man he had secretly lusted after for so long.

 

Professor Harris' eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of Trevor's naked body. "You're even more impressive than I imagined," he said, his voice thick with desire. He gestured to a bottle of baby oil on the desk. "Now, let's get you all oiled up. You're going to pose and flex for me, really show off those muscles. It's all part of the psychological conditioning."

 

Trevor's hands shook as he picked up the bottle, the cool liquid sloshing against the glass. He began to dribble the oil over his broad chest, his muscles jumping and tensing with every touch. The slick, viscous fluid slid down his abs, coating his body in a sheen that made him look even more like a statue come to life. His heart raced as he felt the professor's gaze on him, his own self-consciousness mixing with the thrill of submission. He spread his legs, showing off his firm, muscular thighs and the thick, heavy bulge between them.

 

As he flexed his arms, his biceps popping and his triceps bulging, Professor Harris stepped closer, his hand outstretched. "Let me," he said, taking the bottle from Trevor's trembling grip. The professor's hands were warm and rough as they began to spread the oil over his pupil's body, starting at the shoulders and working down to the small of his back. The older man's touch was firm, yet gentle, each stroke seeming to release a new wave of tension in Trevor's muscles.

 

The jock couldn't help but moan as the oil was rubbed into his chest, the professor's thumbs circling his sensitive nipples. He watched in the mirror on the wall, his own eyes wide with a mix of shock and arousal as the professor's bearded face hovered over his, the leather of his jacket creaking with each movement. The professor's hands continued their journey, sliding down to his abs, tracing the deep lines of his six-pack before moving lower to cup and squeeze his heavy, swollen balls.

 

"You're going to be my little plaything," Professor Harris murmured, his breath hot against Trevor's ear. "You're going to love every second of it."

 

The young athlete's knees almost buckled as the professor's hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it with a firm grip. He couldn't believe this was happening, that his darkest desires were playing out in the very place where he was supposed to seek academic enlightenment. Yet, here he was, naked and oiled up, being manhandled by the very man who held the key to his academic success.

 

"On your knees," Professor Harris ordered, his voice deep and commanding. Trevor complied, his muscles quivering as he knelt before the professor. The man's leather boots filled his vision, and he felt a strange sense of peace wash over him. This was where he belonged, at the mercy of his superior.

 

Professor Harris leaned down, his leather jacket brushing against Trevor's oiled skin as he attached the leather cuffs to the young man's wrists. The cold metal of the handcuffs clicked into place, sending a jolt of electricity through his body. The professor then fastened the ankle cuffs, securing them to the legs of the chair. Trevor was now bound, completely at the mercy of the man he had fantasized about for so long.

 

The professor stepped back, admiring his handiwork. "Very good," he murmured, his hand trailing down the line of Trevor's spine, sending shivers down the jock's body. "Now, let's see what kind of muscle bitch you truly are." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small black remote. With a flick of his thumb, the room was suddenly bathed in a soft red light, and the sound of leather slapping against skin filled the air.

 

Trevor's eyes went wide with excitement as the professor approached him, a leather paddle in hand. The first strike came down hard on his left shoulder, and he couldn't help but let out a gasp of pleasure. The sting was delicious, a stark contrast to the softness of the oil on his skin. The second blow landed on his right cheek, leaving a warm, tingling sensation that spread across his backside. The rhythm grew steadier, each smack of the paddle sending a jolt of painful pleasure through his body.

 

With every strike, Trevor felt his muscles tighten, his body responding to the dominance of his professor. The pain was a sweet release, pushing aside the stress of his life, the expectations of his peers, and the burden of his secret desires. The room was filled with the scent of leather and oil, the sounds of skin on skin echoing through the otherwise silent library basement. His cock was rock hard, straining against his stomach, begging for attention.

 

Professor Harris noticed the effect he was having and chuckled darkly. "It seems you enjoy this more than you're willing to admit," he said, placing the paddle aside. His hand caressed Trevor's reddened skin, his touch almost tender as he trailed his fingers down the jock's spine. "But we're just getting started."

 

The professor opened his desk drawer again, revealing an array of toys and devices that made Trevor's eyes widen. He pulled out a thick, black dildo with a leather harness attached. "This," he said, holding it up for Trevor to see, "will be your new best friend tonight."

 

Trevor's heart raced as Professor Harris approached him, the harness jingling softly with each step. The man's scent was intoxicating, a mix of leather and something darker, something that made the young athlete's knees wobble. The professor's hands were deft as he adjusted the straps, positioning the dildo at the entrance to Trevor's tight, untouched hole. Trevor felt a thrill of fear mixed with anticipation as the cold, slick head of the toy nudged against him.

 

"This is going to be a real education for you," Professor Harris murmured, his voice thick with lust. "You're going to learn what it's like to be used and owned." He pushed the dildo in slowly, watching with a cruel smile as Trevor's eyes widened and his body tensed. The young man bit his lip to stifle a cry as the toy filled him, stretching him wider than he ever thought possible. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that he had only dreamed of experiencing.

 

As the professor worked the dildo in and out, he reached into another drawer, pulling out a shiny, chrome butt plug. Trevor's eyes grew even larger as the man lubricated it with oil, his mind racing with the knowledge of what was to come. The plug was thick and tapered, and as Professor Harris pushed it into his stretched hole, the jock could feel the muscles clench around it, trying to resist the intrusion. The burn was intense, but the feeling of being filled, claimed, was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

 

Professor Harris must have noticed Trevor's struggle because he paused and leaned in close, whispering, "Take a hit of these, it'll make it easier." He held out the bottle of poppers, the amyl nitrate fumes wafting up to tickle Trevor's nose. The young man took a tentative sniff, feeling his head spin and his body light up with a sudden rush of euphoria. The world around him grew hazier, his senses more acute.

 

As the poppers took hold, the pain from the plug melded into pleasure, a deep, primal ache that made him want more. He nodded eagerly, and the professor pushed the plug deeper, the metal warming to his body temperature, filling him up completely. Trevor could feel his hole clench around the toy, his body betraying his desire for this kind of treatment.

 

The room swam around him as Professor Harris began to pump the dildo in and out with a rhythm that matched the thundering of his own heartbeat. Each thrust sent waves of sensation through his body, making him moan and squirm against his restraints. His cock was a steel rod, desperate for any kind of contact, but the professor was cruel in his attentions, ignoring it completely as he focused on the jock's ass.

 

Trevor felt the beginnings of a climax building, his body tightening and his breath coming in ragged gasps. The professor's hand found its way to his neglected cock, stroking it with a firm yet gentle touch that had him teetering on the edge. "Not yet," the older man murmured, his voice a low growl of command. "You're going to come when I say you can."

 

The jock's eyes rolled back in his head as the professor's fingers tightened around his shaft, the leather of his gloves adding a delicious friction. He could feel his body straining, begging for release, but he held back, his muscles quivering with the effort. The room was a cacophony of sounds, the slap of leather, the slick slide of the dildo, and the grunts and moans of his own desperation.

 

Professor Harris leaned in closer, his hot breath a stark contrast to the cold metal of the handcuffs biting into Trevor's wrists. "You're doing so well," he crooned, his voice a dark promise of things to come. "But now it's time to show you who's really in charge."

 

With a flick of his wrist, the professor produced a studded leather strap, the metal rings glinting in the dim light. He wrapped it around Trevor's thick neck, securing it with a deft click. The young man could feel the studs pressing into his skin, a constant reminder of his subjugation. The professor tightened the strap, making sure it was snug but not too tight. "Breathe," he instructed, and Trevor took a deep breath, feeling the leather constrict slightly with each inhale.

 

Professor Harris stepped back to admire his handiwork, his own arousal clear in the bulge pressing against the front of his pants. He circled Trevor like a predator, his eyes never leaving the bound student. "You look so beautiful, my little muscle bitch," he murmured, his voice a gruff caress. "Now, let's really get to work."

 

The professor's hand reached out, tracing a line from the collar around Trevor's neck down to his chiseled chest. He pinched a nipple, watching with satisfaction as it hardened into a tight peak. Trevor moaned, his body arching into the touch despite the pain. The professor chuckled, a deep rumble that seemed to resonate in the very marrow of his bones. "I can see you're enjoying this," he said, his voice a dark purr. "But we're just getting started."

 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, shiny object. Trevor's eyes focused on it, trying to make out what it was. It was a tiny silver key, and the professor held it up to the light, watching it twinkle as he approached. The young athlete's breath hitched as the professor leaned down and unlocked the leather collar around his neck, replacing it with a new one that was equipped with a thick, shiny O-ring. "This will be your new collar," he said, his tone possessive. "A symbol of your submission to me."

 

The professor stepped back and unbuckled his own belt, the sound echoing through the small room like a gunshot. He pulled out his cock, thick and hard, and began stroking it with a practiced hand. "Now," he said, his eyes never leaving Trevor's, "you're going to show me how much you really want this." He moved closer, positioning himself in front of the bound student. "Open your mouth," he ordered, and Trevor obeyed, his jaw dropping as the professor slid his cock between the jock's lips.

 

The taste of leather and sweat filled Trevor's mouth as he began to suck, his tongue swirling around the velvety head. Professor Harris's hands found their way into his hair, guiding the rhythm, pushing him deeper with each thrust. The jock felt his throat stretch and burn as he took the older man's length, his own desires growing stronger with each gag. He had never felt so alive, so in tune with his body's need for submission.

 

The professor's grip tightened, his hips moving in a steady rhythm as he face-fucked his pupil. Trevor could feel the man's balls slapping against his chin, the heat of his lust radiating through the leather. He moaned around the cock in his mouth, his own body responding in ways he had never allowed before. The pain and pleasure melded together, creating a symphony of sensation that made him want to scream.

 

Professor Harris leaned in closer, his beard brushing against Trevor's cheek as he whispered, "You're doing so well, such a good little slut." The words were like a brand, searing themselves into the young man's soul. He had never felt so degraded, so used, and yet it was everything he had ever wanted.

 

The professor's strokes grew faster, his breathing more ragged. Trevor could feel the man's orgasm building, his cock swelling in his mouth. He sucked harder, eager to taste the salty release that was just moments away. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, his own cock aching and desperate for attention.

 

[metanoia]

As the professor's grip grew even tighter, Trevor's eyes watered, his throat stretching around the thick shaft. He gagged once, twice, but never ceased his efforts, determined to please his new master. And then, with a roar that seemed to shake the very foundation of the library, Professor Harris came, his hot cum filling Trevor's mouth and spilling down his throat. The young man swallowed greedily, the taste of his submission mingling with the bitter tang of the poppers still lingering in the air.

 

The professor pulled out, panting heavily, and looked down at the kneeling figure before him. "Good boy," he murmured, his hand coming down to pet Trevor's head. "Very good boy." The jock felt a warmth spread through his chest, a strange sense of pride at the praise. He had never felt more alive than in this moment of complete and utter surrender.

 

Professor Harris stepped back and buckled his pants, the leather of his belt creaking as he tightened it around his waist. "Now," he said, his voice still thick with desire, "it's time for the real lesson."

 

Trevor's eyes widened as the professor pulled out a leather sling, attaching it to the sturdy wooden chair. His heart pounded in his chest as he realized what was about to happen. He had read about this in the books he had hidden under his bed, but the reality was so much more intense than his wildest fantasies. The professor's gaze never left him as he climbed into the sling, his legs spread wide and his ass in the air.

 

The leather was cold and unforgiving against his skin as he settled into the device, the dildo still lodged firmly inside him. The professor stepped behind him, his hands caressing the cheeks of his ass before spreading them wide. Trevor gasped as the man's thick, gloved fingers probed his hole, pushing against the leather plug and sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body. He had never felt so exposed, so utterly vulnerable, and the thought sent his arousal skyrocketing.

 

Professor Harris leaned in, his beard brushing against Trevor's back as he began to kiss and lick the young man's spine, working his way down to the small of his back. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin, sending goosebumps racing across his muscles. The jock's body responded to every touch, his muscles rippling and flexing under the professor's skilled hands.

 

"You're going to be my little show pony," the professor murmured, his voice a low rumble. "You're going to take everything I give you and you're going to love it."

 

With that, Professor Harris stepped back and picked up the riding crop from his desk. Trevor felt the leather caress his skin, tracing a line from his shoulder down to his ass. The anticipation was unbearable, his cock pulsing with need. The crop swung through the air and bit into his flesh, the sharp sting sending him spiraling into a world of pain and pleasure. He cried out, his body jerking against the restraints.

 

The professor's strokes grew harder and more frequent, turning his ass a bright shade of red. Each hit was a symphony of agony and ecstasy, pushing him closer to the edge of oblivion. Trevor's eyes watered and his vision swam, the room around him a haze of leather and desire. He had never felt so alive, so consumed by his own submission.

 

The crop was suddenly replaced with something wet and warm, the professor's tongue tracing the welts and valleys of his abused flesh. Trevor moaned, his body betraying his desperate need for the man's touch. Professor Harris's beard scraped against his skin, a delicious contrast to the softness of his tongue. The jock's hole clenched around the plug, desperate for the real thing, for the professor to claim him completely.

 

The professor chuckled darkly, pulling back. "You're begging for it, aren't you?" he whispered. Trevor could only whimper in response, his body shaking with the effort to hold back his orgasm. The professor stepped aside, and for a moment, Trevor felt the loss of his touch. But then, the sound of a zipper and the rustle of clothing filled the room, and he knew what was coming next.

 

The head of Professor Harris' cock nudged against his tight hole, and Trevor gasped as the man began to push inside. He was so much bigger than the toys he had used in his secret sessions, the stretch was almost unbearable. The professor was merciless, pushing deeper and deeper until he was fully seated. Trevor's muscles quivered around him, trying to adjust to the invasion. The man leaned in, his bearded cheek against Trevor's, his breath hot against his ear. "This is where you belong," he whispered, his voice a mix of possession and affection. "Now, let's see how much of a slut you really are."

 

Trevor felt the professor's hand on his chest, pushing him down until his abs were flush with the chair's leather. The poppers had done their work, and his body was a live wire of sensation. He couldn't tell where the pain ended and the pleasure began, his mind a swirl of need and desire. Professor Harris began to fuck him with a steady rhythm, his hips slapping against the leather of the sling. Trevor's moans grew louder, filling the room as he was used in ways he had only ever dreamed of.

 

The professor's hand found his cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts. The young jock's eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth open in a silent scream as the orgasm built within him. He could feel the cum churning in his balls, desperate to be released. The room was a blur of red light and leather, the smells of sweat and oil making him dizzy with lust.

 

Professor Harris leaned down, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh of Trevor's shoulder as he fucked him harder. The pain was a delicious counterpoint to the pleasure, each bite and thrust pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Trevor's body was no longer his own, a mere vessel for the professor's desires. He was a muscle bitch, a whore for his master's pleasure.

 

The professor's strokes grew more frenzied, his grip on Trevor's cock tightening. The young man could feel himself losing control, the dam threatening to break as the orgasm crested. "Come for me," Professor Harris growled, his voice thick with lust. "Come all over this chair."

 

Trevor's body responded to the command, his cock spurting thick ropes of cum onto the leather. His body convulsed in pleasure, his muscles straining against the restraints as he screamed out his release. The professor didn't stop, his cock pumping in and out of the jock's ass with a fervor that seemed to match his own.

 

The sound of flesh on flesh filled the room, a testament to their primal dance of power and submission. Trevor could feel the professor's balls slapping against his own, the man's grunts and groans growing louder. The pressure built until it was too much, and the professor roared his own release, filling Trevor with his hot seed. The young man's body went slack, his muscles no longer able to hold the tension.

 

Professor Harris pulled out, his cock glistening with the combined juices of their lust. He leaned down and kissed Trevor's forehead, a gentle gesture that seemed out of place in the scene of depravity they had just played out. "You're a natural," he murmured, his voice filled with awe and satisfaction. "I knew you had it in you."

 

Trevor panted, his body still trembling from the intense climax. The leather sling was sticky with sweat and cum, and his muscles felt like they had been wrung out. But as the professor began to unbuckle the straps holding him in place, he felt a strange sense of disappointment. He didn't want it to end. He had never felt so alive, so in tune with his true nature.

 

As the sling was removed and his ankles freed, Trevor stood on shaky legs, his eyes never leaving the older man's face. Professor Harris offered him a handkerchief to wipe his face, a gesture that seemed almost tender in the aftermath of their encounter. "Thank you, sir," he murmured, his voice hoarse from his screams.

 

The professor stepped closer, his hand reaching out to cup Trevor's chin. "You don't need to thank me," he said, his eyes searching the jock's. "This is what you need. What you crave." He leaned in for a kiss, one that was surprisingly gentle, his beard tickling the young man's face. Trevor melted into it, his body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure.

 

As the kiss broke, Professor Harris's gaze dropped to the floor, where a river of cum had pooled, a testament to their passion. He knelt down, his fingers sliding through the sticky mess, and brought them up to Trevor's still-spasming hole. The young athlete's eyes went wide as the professor began to probe his ass, the remnants of their encounter coating his digits. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that seemed to sear into his soul.

 

The professor pushed two fingers inside, stretching him wider, and Trevor gasped, his legs threatening to buckle. "You're going to wear a plug for the rest of the night," he said, his voice a low growl. "A reminder of who you belong to now." He pulled his fingers out, the sound of them leaving Trevor's body echoing through the room. The jock felt empty without the intrusion, his body craving more.

 

Professor Harris stood and walked to his desk, rummaging through the drawer. He pulled out a large, shiny plug with a leather tail attached. Trevor watched, his cock twitching in anticipation, as the man coated it in lube. He returned to his side, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "You're going to be my little pet," he said, his voice filled with a dark, possessive need. "You'll come to my office every night, and we'll play."

 

The professor bent down and pushed the plug into Trevor's still-loose hole, the young man's body eagerly accepting the intrusion. He moaned as the leather tail brushed against his sensitive skin, a constant reminder of his new role. The professor fastened the plug in place, the leather collar around Trevor's neck serving as a leash. "Now, get dressed," he said, his voice still gentle despite the authority in his words. "We don't want anyone to suspect."

 

Trevor complied, his body still humming with the aftermath of his orgasm. As he pulled on his clothes, the plug shifted inside him, sending jolts of pleasure through his body. He felt changed, like he was wearing a second skin that was both restrictive and liberating. The jock looked at himself in the mirror, his face flushed and his body marked by the professor's attentions. He couldn't believe what had just happened, but he knew that he would come back for more.

 

Leaving the library, the night air hit him like a slap in the face, cold and biting. Trevor's cock was still hard, his desire unquenched. His legs carried him on autopilot, his mind reeling from the intensity of his first real encounter. He didn't know what had come over him, but the need to be used and degraded was stronger than ever. The streets were empty, the only sounds the distant honk of a car and the rustle of the wind.

 

Before he knew it, he was in the heart of the city's seedy gay district. The neon lights of the clubs and bars cast garish shadows on the pavement, and the air was thick with the scent of lust and desperation. He felt drawn to the places where his fantasies lived, his feet leading him down an unfamiliar alleyway. At the end of the alley was a nondescript door with a flickering sign that read "Steam Works."

 

Without a second thought, Trevor pushed open the door and stepped inside. The heat and the steam enveloped him immediately, the darkness pierced only by the red glow of the neon lights. He was in a gay sauna, a place he had only ever read about in his secret fantasies. The air was thick with the scent of musk and sweat, the distant sounds of moans and slaps echoing off the tiled walls.

 

A group of bears, their furry chests and bellies on full display, beckoned him closer, their eyes gleaming with a hunger that matched his own. He was still high from the poppers, his body craving more, and the promise of meth whispered sweet nothings in his ear. They offered him a pipe, and he took it, eager to feel the rush that would surely push him even further into his newfound world of submission.

 

The smoke burned his lungs, and the room spun around him as the drug took hold. The bears led him to a back room, the walls lined with slings and benches, each occupied by men lost in their own debauchery. They didn't speak, just pointed to an empty sling hanging from the ceiling, a silent command that Trevor obeyed without question. He climbed in, his muscles stretching and flexing as the leather cuffs were secured around his wrists and ankles, leaving him completely exposed and at their mercy.

 

The bears and daddies gathered around, their eyes glinting with lust and greed. They began to touch him, their hands rough and calloused against his smooth skin. One of them pulled out a bottle of oil, the scent of it thick and cloying as they began to rub it into his muscles. His cock grew harder, the leather plug in his ass serving as a constant reminder of his professor's claim. They laughed, their teeth gleaming in the dim light as they watched him squirm and moan.

 

"Look at the little slut," one of them said, a twink with a mischievous smile and a glint of malice in his eyes. "Already begging for it."

 

Trevor felt a hand on his chest, the coldness of the metal pipe pressing against his skin as the first hit of meth was injected into him. The rush was immediate, a blast of white-hot need that shot through his body and left him trembling in the sling. The room grew louder, the sounds of men fucking and grunting around him amplified. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he was barely aware of the poppers being shoved under his nose. The musky scent filled his nostrils, and he inhaled deeply, feeling his body respond with a shiver of pleasure.

 

The bears and daddies grew more aggressive, their hands roaming over his oiled muscles with an insatiable hunger. He could feel the weight of their stares, their eyes devouring him as if he were a piece of meat to be claimed. And yet, it was the twinks, with their slender bodies and sharp features, who were the most terrifying. They were like sharks, sensing the vulnerability in his muscular frame and moving in for the kill.

 

Their fingers pinched and prodded, leaving him feeling like a slab of meat on display. He was in a daze, the meth and poppers swirling in his system, leaving him unable to resist the relentless onslaught of sensations. His moans grew louder as they played with his nipples, twisting and tugging that which now felt like live wires to his brain. He flexed his biceps, trying to assert some semblance of control, but all it did was make the men laugh and bark orders at him.

 

"Look at the pretty boy," one bear chuckled, his thick fingers digging into Trevor's armpit before bringing it to his nose and deeply inhaling the man stink, eliciting a gasp of pain from Trevor that only fueled his arousal. "Show us how strong you are, flex for us."

 

Trevor did as he was told, his muscles bulging and shivering under the weight of his own desperation. He threw his head back, his chest heaving as he sucked in the acrid meth smoke of the sauna. The twinks giggled and pointed, their delicate hands reaching out to stroke his bulging biceps and rock-hard abs. He could feel their excitement, their hunger for his submission, and it only made him want more.

 

The bears took turns pushing him to the brink, each one taking his place in the sling and pumping his massive cock into Trevor's tight, used hole. They whispered sweet nothings in his ear, calling him their little muscle slut, their property to use and abuse as they saw fit. And as each one came, filling him with their hot, sticky cum, he could feel himself slipping further into the role he had always craved.

 

The daddies were next, their experience and authority evident in every touch. They knew just how to play his body, stroking his muscles in a way that made him beg for more. Their cocks were thick and unyielding, stretching him to his limits as they claimed him as their own. Trevor's moans grew louder, his body writhing in the sling, as they pounded into him, each thrust sending a fresh wave of pleasure through his body.

 

The twinks circled around, their lithe bodies and sharp features a stark contrast to the hulking men that surrounded him. They watched with hungry eyes, waiting for their turn to taste the muscular jock that had been brought to heel. Trevor's heart raced as one of them stepped forward, his hand wrapping around the base of the daddy's cock, stroking it as it slid in and out of the jock's ass. The twink leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste the mix of sweat and cum that coated the shaft.

 

Another twink approached, his hand reaching for the leather tail attached to the plug in Trevor's ass. He gave it a gentle tug, the jock's body jerking in response. The man attached to the cock buried in Trevor's ass growled, his thrusts becoming more erratic. The twink giggled, his grip tightening, the leather tail cutting into Trevor's skin as he yanked it back and forth in time with the fucking. The room was a whirlwind of hands and mouths, each one claiming a piece of him, marking him as their property.

 

The twinks took their turns, their slender cocks sliding into his ass with an ease that belied their size. They were like serpents, twisting and turning, their movements precise and calculated. They whispered sweet nothings in his ear, their breath hot and ragged as they fucked him, their hands never still as they played with his muscles and nipples. He could feel their excitement, their need to conquer the untouchable Ivy League athlete, and it only made him wetter, his body begging for more.

 

And as they fucked him, they buried their faces in his sweaty, musky armpits, inhaling his manly scent like a fine perfume. Their tongues danced over the sensitive flesh, their teeth nipping at the soft skin. Trevor's body arched in response, his muscles quivering with the mix of pleasure and pain. He had never felt so alive, so in tune with his desires. His cries grew louder, his voice hoarse from the abuse it had taken, as they continued to drill into him without mercy.

 

But the night was far from over. As he started to look tired, the twinks noticed and whispered something to the bears and daddies. One of the men pulled out a small vial filled with a clear liquid, and before Trevor could protest, the needle pierced his skin, sending a second wave of meth coursing through his veins. The world grew brighter, the sounds more intense, and his body felt as though it was on fire. The ringing in his ears grew louder, and he could feel his heart racing in his chest, his pulse pounding in time with the relentless rhythm of the fucking.

 

He was lost in a sea of sensation, his body sweating like a pig on top of the oil, making his already slick muscles even more enticing to the men surrounding him. His moans grew louder, his cries for mercy now a symphony of pleasure as the fourth wave of fuckers approached. They were different from the others, their skin dark as midnight, their eyes gleaming with a hunger that seemed almost feral. Trans black hookers and druggies with tattoos snaking up their arms and thick, muscular thighs, they approached him like predators stalking their prey.

 

The ringing in his ears grew louder, the sounds of the sauna fading away into a cacophony of white noise. His body was on fire, every inch of him hyper-sensitive and begging for more. As they reached him, their hands were like brands, searing his flesh with their touch. He could feel their hardness pressing against him, their big dicks thick and insistent, demanding entry into his now well-used body.

[metanoia]

The trans black hookers and ghetto druggies looked him over with a predatory gaze, their teeth gleaming in the dim light. They were the embodiment of everything Trevor had ever fantasized about, and now they were here to claim him. He was lost, utterly consumed by the desire to be used and debased by those he had once deemed inferior. They didn't speak, just grunted and growled, their eyes never leaving his muscular frame.

 

One by one, they stepped forward, each one larger and more intimidating than the last. Their cocks were like monsters, thick and veiny, demanding to be served. Trevor felt his heart racing, his body sweating even more as they touched him. The oil made their skin slick against his, their hands leaving trails of heat as they gripped his biceps and chest. They took turns, each one more brutal than the last, their rough hands leaving bruises on his perfect skin.

 

And as the drugs took hold, Trevor found himself loving every moment of it. The pain was a sweet release, a balm to the ache in his soul that had been there for so long. He had always been the one in control, the one who called the shots, but now, as he was passed around like a toy, used and abused by these men, he felt truly alive. The ringing in his ears grew louder, and his vision swam as the meth took him to new heights. He could feel himself slipping away, his body a vessel for their pleasure, his mind lost in a haze of desire.

 

One of the trans black hookers stepped forward, her massive cock bobbing with each step. She was tall and lean, with muscles that looked like they were carved from the darkest night. Her skin was slick with sweat, and she smelled like sex and the street. She looked him in the eyes, and he could see the fire burning within her, the hunger to claim him, to make him hers.

 

The needle plunged into his arm again, the meth flooding his system with a rush that was almost painful. The ringing grew louder, and the room spun faster, but he could feel his body responding, his muscles tightening and his cock growing harder. He was a ragdoll in their hands now, a toy for them to play with and use. The twinks stepped back, their eyes gleaming with excitement as the new players took the field.

 

The trans hooker's cock was like nothing he had ever felt before, a thick, pulsing monster that filled him completely. She didn't bother with the gentle touches of the others, just slammed into him, her hips pistoning as she claimed him. Trevor's cries grew louder, his body writhing in the sling, as she fucked him with a brutality that was almost terrifying. He could feel his ass stretching, the leather tail of the plug cutting into his skin with every thrust. It hurt, but the pain was a sweet release, a reminder that he was truly theirs to do with as they wished.

 

The daddies saw the agony on his face and laughed, their eyes gleaming with sadistic glee. One of the daddies, a silver-haired man with a handlebar mustache and a thick leather chest harness, took the bottle of poppers from the twink. He held it to Trevor's nose, his own eyes glazed with lust. "Breathe, baby," he said, his voice a low growl. "Breathe deep."

 

Trevor took a huff, his eyes widening as the room swam before him. The pain receded, replaced by a buzzing sensation that made his skin feel like it was on fire. His nipples, already sore from the twinks' abuse, felt like they were being licked by a thousand tiny tongues. The sweat that continued to bead and roll down his chest and abs was now a symphony of pleasure, each droplet hitting his sensitive flesh like a miniature explosion of bliss. The daddies and bears chuckled, their eyes shining with a newfound excitement as they watched the young athlete succumb to the poppers' power.

 

The silver-haired daddy took over, his mustache brushing against Trevor's cheek as he whispered, "You're going to love this," before placing the bottle under his nose once more. Trevor's eyes rolled back, and his body quivered as he inhaled deeply, his moans turning into a high-pitched whine of pleasure. The poppers had turned his pain into ecstasy, and now every sensation was heightened to an unbearable degree. The twinks took advantage of his vulnerability, their nimble fingers playing his body like a fiddle, drawing out sounds from him that he didn't even know he was capable of making.

 

The trans black hooker didn't let up, her grip on his hips tightening as she pounded into him, her moans of pleasure echoing through the steamy sauna. Trevor's muscles tightened around her, his body begging for more as she hit just the right spot with every thrust. He could feel himself getting closer to the edge, his cock leaking pre-cum onto the leather sling beneath him. The other men watched, their eyes ravenous as they awaited their turn to claim him.

 

As if on cue, the hooker pulled out with a wet pop, leaving him feeling empty and desperate but not for long, as she brutally pushed her cock back into him, breaking past his first and second ring in an instant and earning an “omph” from him as air was pushed out from his lungs from the onslaught. The daddies and bears stepped back, their own cocks straining against their leather pants. The silver-haired daddy leaned down, his mustache tickling Trevor's ear. "You're going to cum for us, aren't you?" he whispered, his hand wrapping around the jock's cock. "You're going to show us what a good little muscle slut you are."

 

Trevor nodded, his body trembling with need. The daddy began to stroke him, his movements firm and sure, his thumb pressing against the sensitive spot just beneath the head. The twinks watched, their eyes wide with excitement, as they took out their phones to capture the moment. They knew the value of a video like this, the power it held over someone as seemingly untouchable as Trevor.

 

The room grew hotter, the air thick with the scent of sex and desire. The beads of sweat on Trevor's body grew larger, rolling down his chest and pooling in his navel before sliding down to his cock and hole. The silver-haired daddy's hand was a blur, moving faster and faster as the young jock's cries grew more desperate. The trans black hooker leaned in, her breath hot against his neck as she whispered, "You're going to cum for us. You're going to be our bitch."

 

The twink with the leather tail didn't relent, pumping it in and out of Trevor's ass with a fervor that matched the stroking of his cock. The sensation was overwhelming, the pressure building with each thrust. He could feel the cum of the men who had come before, mixing with the fresh oil, creating a slick, sticky mess that coated his insides. His muscles clenched and unclenched, his body fighting and giving in to the pleasure at the same time.

 

As the trans hooker's cock slammed into him again, Trevor felt the tail slide back in, the leather now wet and slippery with his own juices. The twink's hand was a blur, moving faster and faster as he worked the tail in and out, pushing the cum out of his abused hole. Trevor's moans grew higher pitched, his body shaking with each movement. The silver-haired daddy's grip tightened, his thumb pressing harder into that sweet spot.

 

The room was a blur of leather and muscles, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the air. The trans hooker's grunts grew louder, her breath coming in ragged pants as she neared her own climax. Trevor could feel the heat building in his balls, his muscles tightening, ready to release the load he had been holding back for what felt like an eternity. The twinks watched with bated breath, their own cocks hard and leaking, eager to see the jock's submission.

 

The silver-haired daddy's hand moved faster, his grip tightening as he brought Trevor closer to the edge. The twink with the leather tail didn't miss a beat, pushing it in and out of his ass with a ferocity that made the young man's toes curl. Trevor's moans grew more desperate, his muscular chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

 

"That's it, baby," the daddy murmured, his voice a soothing balm to the jock's frayed nerves. "Cum for us. Show us what a good little slut you are."

 

The words were like a trigger, sending Trevor hurtling over the precipice. His cock exploded in the daddy's fist, hot jets of cum arcing through the air to land on the leather-covered floor. His body convulsed, every muscle tightening as he rode out the most intense orgasm of his life. The twinks cheered, their own cocks bobbing in time with the jock's spasms. The trans black hooker took that moment to slam into him one last time, her own release following closely behind. Trevor felt her thick cock pulse inside him, filling him with hot, sticky cum.

 

As the waves of pleasure subsided, the room grew quiet, the only sounds the heavy breathing of the men around him. Trevor hung in the sling, his body limp and thoroughly used, his mind a haze of endorphins and meth-induced euphoria. The silver-haired daddy stepped forward, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "You did so well," he said, his voice a gentle caress. "Now, it's time for your final lesson."

 

The twinks and bears stepped aside, revealing the last of the night's participants: a group of sissies in frilly lingerie and thick makeup. They tittered and preened, their delicate hands playing with their own small cocks as they approached the spent jock. Trevor felt a flicker of fear mingle with his arousal. The sissies had always been the most untouchable in his fantasies, the ones he had never dared to act on. Yet here they were, ready to claim him as their own.

 

The twink with the leather tail stepped forward, his own cock still hard despite the show he had just put on. He reached up and unbuckled the sling, his movements deliberate and practiced. Trevor's muscular body slid out, his legs wobbly from the intense fucking and drugs he had just endured. The twink grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet, his leather tail wagging with excitement. "You're going to show us all how much of a man you really are," the twink cooed, his voice a mocking lilt. "Ride the sissies, one by one, and flex those muscles like the manly jock you pretend to be."

 

The silver-haired daddy stepped in, placing a firm hand on Trevor's shoulder. "You're doing so well," he praised, his grip tightening slightly. "Now, let's see those muscles work."

 

The twink with the tail gestured to the eager sissies, his eyes sparkling with malicious glee. Trevor looked at them, their delicate bodies and feminine features a stark contrast to the rough men who had just used him so thoroughly. Yet, he found himself drawn to them, his secret desires bubbling to the surface like a pot of water coming to a boil. The twink pushed him towards the first sissy, a petite blonde with a cock that was surprisingly thick and long. She lay back on a bench, her legs spread and her panties pushed aside, revealing a surprisingly long anaconda that was already glistening with pre-cum.

 

The twink whispered in Trevor's ear, "Show us how much of a man you are, jock boy. Ride her like you're fucking a real woman." With a shove, Trevor was on top of the sissy, her cock sliding into his ass with an ease that belied the size. He groaned, feeling both the pain and pleasure of being filled again so soon. The sissy's hands reached up, gripping his pecs tightly as he began to move, her hips rising to meet his with surprising strength.

 

The twink with the leather tail circled around them, filming everything with a wicked grin. "Look at him," he purred to the others, "the mighty jock, brought down to our level." The sissies and bears watched with rapt attention, their cocks hard and leaking as they saw the once-dominant athlete now like riding the cock like a proud cowboy. The twinks giggled and whispered to each other, their eyes never leaving Trevor's flexing muscles as he tried to maintain some semblance of his macho persona amidst the depraved scene.

 

The blonde sissy beneath him was surprisingly powerful, her hips bucking up to meet his with every downward thrust. Trevor's sweat-soaked body glistened in the low light, the oil highlighting every ripple of his abs as he moved. His biceps bulged as he held himself up, his triceps flexing and exposing the sweat-soaked armpit hair matted to his sides, as he tried to push away the sissy's hands that roamed over his chest and back. Yet, with each groan that escaped his lips, it was clear that he was loving every second of it, his body responding in ways he never knew were possible.

 

The sissy's cock was like a piston, driving deep into him with a rhythm that seemed to resonate through his very soul. Trevor's own cock was hard again, slapping against his stomach with each movement. He couldn't help but flex, his chest and arms bulging as he tried to assert some semblance of control over the situation. Yet, every time he felt the sissy's tongue dart out to lick a bead of sweat from his neck or armpits, he would moan louder, his body betraying his true desires.

 

The twink with the leather tail moved closer, his camera capturing every second of Trevor's degradation. The jock's chest heaved with each breath, his pecs flexing and glistening in the soft glow of the sauna lights. His abs tightened and released with the rhythm of the fucking, each muscle standing out in stark relief against the oil-slicked skin. His biceps bulged as he held onto the an overhead fixture for dear life, trying to keep from collapsing under the onslaught. The blonde sissy's hands roamed over his body, caressing and pinching, exploring every inch of his sculpted form.

 

Trevor's armpits grew wet with a mix of sweat and oil, the scent of his musk growing stronger with each passing moment. The sissy took full advantage, her tongue darting out to lick and tease the sensitive skin. Each flick of her tongue sent a jolt of electricity through him, making his cock throb and his toes curl. The camera caught every detail, the slick sounds of their bodies colliding, the wet smack of flesh on flesh, and the jock's deep, guttural moans.

 

The blonde sissy's cock was a marvel of endurance, never seeming to lose its rock-hard erection even as she pumped into him relentlessly. Trevor's abs tightened and relaxed with the rhythm, each contraction sending a wave of pleasure through his body. His biceps flexed as he gripped the edges of the bench, his knuckles white with effort. The camera zoomed in on the muscular dance of his body, capturing the way his pecs bounced with each thrust, the oil glistening in the soft light.

 

The twink with the leather tail stepped closer, his own cock hard and begging for attention. He reached out to pull Trevor’s mouth towards his leaking cock, and Trevor obediently sucked it like a baby nursing his mother’s tit, noisily slurping and teasing out every burp of precum as if to nourish his muscular body. To reward his obedience, the twink’s hand slid over Trevor's sweaty shoulder and down to his chest. His fingernails scraped lightly over the jock's sensitive nipples, sending a jolt of electricity through his body. Trevor arched his back, his eyes rolling back in his head as the sissy's mouth latched onto one of his nipples, sucking and biting with a skill that had him squirming. The pain was exquisite, the kind that made him feel alive in a way he never had before.

 

The camera zoomed in on the intimate scene, capturing the way Trevor's abs rippled with each breath, the oil glistening on his skin like a second layer of sweat. The blonde sissy beneath him moaned in pleasure, her hands digging into his back as she felt his body respond to the twink's expert ministrations. The sound of skin on skin filled the room, a symphony of passion and debauchery that seemed to echo off the tiles of the sauna.

 

The twink with the leather tail stepped even closer, his own cock now popped out of the jock’s slutty mouth and throbbing with need. He squatted, his hand wrapping around the base of the blonde sissy's cock, driving it deeper into Trevor's ass while with his other hand he pushed Trevor forcefully down onto that cock until every last inch of it disappeared up his sweaty rectum. The jock's eyes went wide with shock and pleasure as he felt the twin sensations of being filled and being controlled. His muscles flexed and bulged as he tried to push back, to take more, to give in to the pleasure that was threatening to consume him.

 

The silver-haired daddy stepped back, watching the scene unfold with a knowing smile. He had seen this countless times before, the moment when the strongest of men were brought to their knees by the power of desire and submission. Trevor was no different, his body now a canvas for the twisted art that these men had painted.

 

The blonde sissy's grip tightened on his waist, her thrusts growing more frenzied as she felt the jock's muscles clench around her cock. Trevor's moans grew louder, alternating between deep, manly growls and high-pitched whines that would have been comical if they weren't so desperate and needy. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" he begged, his voice cracking with every word. "Bitch me and play with my muscles and nipples!"

 

The twink with the leather tail grinned, his eyes never leaving the camera as he leaned in to whisper in Trevor's ear, "You like that, don't you? You love being used by all these inferior men, don't you?" The jock's only response was a moan of assent, his body shaking as he felt the twink's hot breath against his neck. The twink's hand moved from his chest to his cock, stroking him in time with the sissy's thrusts. "Look at you," the twink taunted, "the big man on campus, begging for more like a bitch in heat."

 

Trevor's eyes snapped open, meeting the twink's gaze in the mirror. He saw the lust and power in the twink's eyes, and it only made him want it more. He pushed down the last shreds of his pride and let out a guttural moan, his body moving in sync with the sissy's rhythm. His muscles flexed and bulged, his cock jerking in the twink's firm grip. The sissy beneath him leaned up, her breasts bouncing as she whispered, "You're so fucking hot, baby," her voice thick with her own arousal. The jock's face flushed with both embarrassment and pleasure as he felt the twink's hand squeeze harder, his thumb brushing against his slit.

 

The sissy's strokes grew faster, and Trevor's body responded in kind. His hips began to rock, his abs tightening as he fucked her back. The blonde's eyes rolled back in her head, her moans growing louder. He could feel her getting closer, her cock swelling inside him. The room spun around him, the heat from the sauna mixing with the intensity of his arousal. The silver-haired daddy leaned in, his beard brushing against Trevor's collarbone as he licked Trevor's nipples and armpits, sending him into overdrive even more.

 

The twink with the leather tail stepped back, his hand still wrapped around the base of the sissy's cock. "Look at you, fucking her like a champ," he said, his voice filled with mocking admiration. "You really are the perfect muscle bitch." Trevor's face contorted in a mix of rage and pleasure, his body on the brink of climax. The twink's hand moved faster, working his cock in time with the sissy's thrusts. "You're going to cum for us," the twink ordered, "and you're going to love it."

 

The blonde sissy's breath grew ragged, her movements becoming erratic. Trevor could feel her cock swell even further, the head pushing against his prostate in a way that made his eyes water. He threw his head back and let out an animalistic roar as the sissy's cock erupted inside him, filling him with hot, thick cum. The pressure was almost too much to bear, but it was the twink's hand that pushed him over the edge. He came with a force that surprised even himself, his muscles tightening and releasing in waves as ropes of cum shot from his cock, painting the twink's hand and wrist and the camera phone he's holding.

[metanoia]

The room grew quiet for a moment, the only sounds being the heavy breathing of the men and the distant throb of the music. Then, the twink with the leather tail leaned in, his breath hot against Trevor's ear. "Good boy," he whispered, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Now, let's get you cleaned up and ready for the next round. I'll have you shoot your precious neg cum into the sissy while you're caught in the middle of a chain fuck, since you'll most likely be positive in a few days with all the creampie loads you've been taking."

The silver-haired daddy stepped back, admiring the scene before him. Trevor's muscular body was a mess of cum and oil, his muscles still quivering from the intense fucking he had endured. The jock's eyes searched the room, a mix of fear and anticipation in his gaze. The daddy knew that look, had seen it countless times before in the eyes of men just like him. It was the look of someone who had found their true place in the world, who had realized that their power lay not in their strength or status, but in their ability to give themselves over completely to the desires of others.

The twink with the leather tail took over, his delicate yet surprisingly strong hands guiding Trevor off the bench. The blonde sissy's cum leaked from his ass, leaving a slick trail on the tiles as he stumbled towards the shower. The daddy followed, his own cock still hard and demanding attention. He knew that the young jock would need a break, that his body would need time to recover, but the thrill of watching him come apart was too much to resist.

The shower was a small, tiled space, the water beating down like a relentless force against their bodies. Trevor leaned against the wall, his legs trembling, as the silver-haired daddy stepped in behind him. The scent of leather and sex filled the air, mingling with the steam that clouded the room. The poppers were unscrewed again, the sound echoing off the walls like a gunshot in the stillness. Trevor felt the sex fumes rush into his nostrils, the world spinning around him as the drug took hold.

The daddy's hands were rough yet tender as they cupped his pecs, his thumbs tracing circles around his sensitive nipples. The pain was diminishing as the fumes took hold, heightening his senses and grounding him in the present. The massive cock that had just claimed him snaked its way into his ass again, and before long the warmth of the daddy's piss spread through his insides like a warm embrace. Trevor's moan was muffled by the daddy's mouth as he was forced into a deep, passionate kiss. The daddy's tongue invaded his mouth, dominating him in a way that seemed to resonate through every cell of his body.

The sissy stepped into the shower cubicle too, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she knelt down before him. The warm water cascaded over her, mixing with the oil and cum that clung to her body. Trevor's eyes widened in shock as he felt her mouth engulf his cock, her lips wrapping around him like a glove. The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of the daddy's piss inside him and the sissy's hot mouth on him pushing him to new heights of pleasure.

The silver-haired daddy stepped back, watching the scene with a knowing smirk. "Look how eager she is to taste you," he murmured, his hand stroking the back of the sissy's head. Trevor's moans grew louder, his body writhing in the tight space as the sissy's tongue danced over his shaft. The daddy reached around, his own cock still rock hard and slick with oil, pressing it against Trevor's puckered hole. "Kiss her," he ordered, his voice a low growl.

Trevor obeyed, his mouth finding the sissy's as he tasted himself on her lips. Her mouth was soft, her kisses eager and hungry, a stark contrast to the firm grip on his cock. He could feel the daddy's cock nudging at his ass, the pressure building as the sissy's moans grew around his cock. The daddy's hands were on his hips now, guiding him as he spun the sissy around and plunged into her soft ass. Trevor's hands roamed over her body, cupping her breasts and pinching her nipples, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts.

The water streamed down their bodies, washing away the grime of the day and the last traces of his inhibitions. The sissy's eyes closed in bliss as she felt herself being used by the two men, her own cock trapped between her and the wall. Trevor's muscles flexed and bulged with every stroke, his biceps straining as he held onto her hips. The silver-haired daddy stepped closer, his cock pressing against Trevor's hole, demanding entry.

With a grunt, the daddy pushed past the muscular ring of his ass, filling him up to the brim. Trevor's moan of pleasure was muffled by the sissy's mouth, her tongue ravenously exploring every nook and cranny of his hot mouth. The sensation was exquisite for Trevor, as the feeling of being in the middle of a chain fuck was something he had never experienced, and it was all he could do to remain standing even as his muscular ass cheeks clenched and pistoned of their own accord.

The silver-haired daddy's grip was relentless as he pounded into Trevor, each thrust sending waves of painful pleasure through his body. The young jock's eyes rolled back in his head, his mind lost to the sensation of being used as nothing more than a receptacle for the daddy's thick, drug-laced piss. The sissy's breasts were like two soft pillows in his hands, the sensation of her hard nipples poking into his palms only adding to the overwhelming cascade of sensations. He squeezed them as tightly as he could, feeling them give way slightly under his grip.

The daddy's cock was like a piston, driving into him without mercy. Trevor's muscles clenched around him, trying to hold on to the massive invader, but it was futile. The poppers had done their work, leaving him a quivering mess of nerves and need, his body craving more and more.

As the silver-haired daddy fucked him, Trevor's ass loosened up from the pounding and the drugs, and the pee that had been stored inside him began to squirt out in little spurts, mixing with the water and oil on the floor. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt before, a heady mix of pressure and pleasure that had him grunting like an animal in heat. The daddy's rough hands gripped his hips, pulling him back onto his cock with each thrust, making him feel every inch of his superiority.

The twink with the leather tail watched with hungry eyes, his own cock leaking pre-cum as he jerked off, watching the powerful jock being reduced to a quivering, begging mess. The sissy beneath Trevor was in a similar state, her body trembling as the young man's cock filled her up, her moans muffled by the muscular chest above her.

The silver-haired daddy's growls grew deeper, his breath hot on Trevor's neck as he felt the younger man's body tense around his cock. "You're going to cum for me," he rumbled, his voice low and demanding. "You're going to fill her up like the good little muscle bitch you are."

Trevor's eyes snapped open, the reality of the situation hitting him like a freight train. He was being fucked by a daddy while fucking a sissy, his body a conduit for their shared lust and power. The sissy's whines grew higher pitched, her own climax building as she felt the pressure of his cock deep inside her. Trevor's muscles bulged as he pushed into her, his own orgasm approaching like a tidal wave.

The silver-haired daddy's grunts grew louder, his breath hot and ragged against Trevor's neck. "You're going to cum for me, boy," he snarled, his teeth grazing the jock's earlobe. "You're going to fill this bitch up and show her who's in charge."

Trevor's eyes squeezed shut, his body taut as a bowstring. He could feel the sissy's muscles contracting around his cock, her moans growing more desperate as she approached her own climax. The twink with the leather tail leaned against the wall, stroking himself lazily as he watched the scene unfold. He knew that the sight of the powerful jock losing control would be something to remember, something to replay in his mind for days to come.

The silver-haired daddy's grunts grew deeper, his cock swelling even further inside Trevor. "I'm going to fill you up," he growled, his grip on the young man's hips tightening. Trevor could feel the head of the daddy's cock swelling, the pressure inside him building to unbearable levels. The sissy's cries grew more frantic, her hips bucking wildly as she felt the jock's cock swell.

"I'm going to cum, daddy!" Trevor yelled, his voice a mix of fear and ecstasy. "I'm going to fuck this bitch's brains out!"

The silver-haired daddy's growls grew louder, his cock pulsing as he felt his own orgasm approaching. The room was a cacophony of grunts, slaps, and wet sounds, the symphony of three bodies in the throes of passion. Trevor's muscles tensed as the daddy's cock grew even thicker inside him, the pressure unbearable as the older man cock poked his prostate, pushing him over the edge.

"Oh, fuck, yes, daddy, I'm gonna cum!" Trevor's voice was a mix of pain and pleasure as he shouted his confession to the heavens. His cock jerked wildly, shooting ropes of thick, white cum deep into the sissy's hole, breeding her with his neg cum. The blonde whore beneath him writhed in pleasure, her own orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave as she felt the heat of his seed fill her up.

The silver-haired daddy's grunts grew louder, his cock pulsating inside Trevor's stretched ass. "Take it, boy," he rumbled, his breath hot against the jock's neck. "Take every drop of my cum. You're my good little muscle bitch now."

The words sent a shiver down Trevor's spine, and he could feel himself losing control, his body responding to the command. He threw his head back, his muscles flexing as he took the daddy's cock in one final, deep thrust, burying it to the hilt. The daddy's grip on his hips tightened, his fingers digging into the muscled flesh as he pulled back and slammed home, filling the young man's ass with a roar. Trevor's own orgasm continued all this while, as his cock continued to twitch and spew out streams of hot virile jock seed, as if revitalized by the daddy's cum shooting straight into his bowels.

The sissy beneath him was in the throes of her own climax, her body convulsing as she felt Trevor's hot cum fill her up. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth open in a silent scream as the jock's seed painted the inside of her ass. Her hands clawed at the tiles in front of her, her nails leaving little half-moons in the grout as she pushed back against him, eager to take every drop.

The silver-haired daddy pulled out, his cock glistening with a mix of cum and piss. He stepped back, his chest heaving as he admired the scene before him. "Good boy," he said, his voice filled with pride. "You've learned your lesson well."

Trevor slumped against the wall of the shower, his legs barely holding him up. His ass felt like it was on fire, stretched and abused beyond belief. He could feel the cum and piss leaking out of him, the warmth spreading down his thighs and mixing with the cool water. The sissy looked up at him with a look of pure adoration, her makeup smeared and her hair plastered to her face. The twink with the leather tail had long ago finished cumming, his own juices mixing with the mess on the floor.

The silver-haired daddy leaned against the sink, his cock still semi-hard and glistening. He took a drag from his cigarette, watching Trevor with a smug expression. "You're going to love being our little slut," he said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "We're going to turn you into the ultimate cum dump."

The words echoed in Trevor's head as the daddy stepped out of the shower, leaving the sissy to clean up the mess. The twink with the leather tail was already dressed, his smirk never leaving his face as he watched the jock struggle to stand on legs that felt like jelly. The reality of what had just happened washed over him like a cold shower, sobering him up even as the last of the drugs left his system. He had submitted, given in to his deepest, darkest desires, and there was no going back now.

The walk of shame back to his hostel was a blur, his mind racing with the images of the silver-haired daddy and the sissy using his body for their pleasure. The sticky wetness of the cum and piss in his gym shorts was a constant reminder of his new role as their muscle bitch. The whispers and glances of his peers only added to his humiliation, his once-worshiped physique now a canvas for their lust and amusement. He stumbled into his dorm room, collapsing onto his bed, his body feeling both heavy and empty at the same time.

Sleep claimed him quickly, his dreams a whirlwind of depraved scenarios. In them, he was passed around like a prize at a frat house party, his ass never empty, his body a playground for every kink and fetish. His teammates, professors, even the librarian with the stern gaze, all took turns fucking him, using his jock body for their own twisted satisfaction. The dreams were so vivid, so real, that he could almost feel the painful stretch of his gaping hole and the warm flood of cum that never ceased to fill him.

The harsh light of day pierced through his closed eyes, and Trevor awoke with a start. The stickiness of his cum-soaked gym shorts was a stark reminder of the night before. He rolled over, his head pounding from the hangover, the smell of sex and sweat lingering in the air. He reached down to find his ass sore and loose, a stark contrast to the tight, puckered hole he had once been so proud of. With a sigh, he realized that he had finally embraced his true identity as a jock cum dump.

As he stumbled to the shower, his thoughts swirled with a mix of dread and arousal. He knew that he could never go back to being the person he once was, the person he had pretended to be. The video was out there, a damning piece of evidence that could ruin his reputation in an instant. But as the warm water cascaded over his muscular body, the pain in his ass only served to heighten his excitement. He found himself craving the feeling of being used, the feeling of being filled and emptied by those who knew his secret.

The week passed in a blur of classes and practice, his mind never far from the sauna and the men who had claimed him. He went through the motions of his life, his once-confident stride now marred by the occasional wince as his tender ass reminded him of his new status. Yet, every time he felt the ache between his legs, his cock grew hard, betraying his body's newfound craving for the degradation he had once shunned.

Soon enough, an email with his damning sex film invaded his inbox, a constant reminder of his fate. He knew he couldn't resist the call, not when the thought of being exposed brought him more arousal than fear. His thoughts of the sauna grew more intense, his imagination conjuring up new scenes of depravity that made his heart race and his cock throb.

Each day, Trevor found himself eagerly awaiting the nightfall, counting down the hours until he could return to the place where he had found his true purpose. The anticipation grew to be almost unbearable, a sweet agony that fueled his every movement. He went through his daily routines with a newfound enthusiasm, knowing that every step brought him closer to his ultimate destiny as the jock cum dump.

As the sun set and the shadows grew long, Trevor would sneak out of his dorm, his heart racing with excitement. He had discovered that the thrill of public sex, the danger of being caught, only served to enhance his pleasure. He sought out the seediest parts of town, the alleys where the desperate and the depraved congregated, eager to offer up his muscular body to those who craved his superior seed.

The beggars and gangsters took him without hesitation, their rough hands exploring his sculpted physique as they fucked him against the cold, unforgiving bricks. Trevor reveled in their grunts and curses, his own moans echoing off the alley walls as they used him. He grew to love the feeling of being claimed by men who were deemed inferior, their cum mixing with the grime and sweat that coated his body.

Word spread quickly about the jock boy who would let anyone have their way with him, and soon, his late-night escapades drew a devoted following. Under the flickering street lamps, he became a spectacle, a muscular canvas for their desires. They watched, they pointed, they laughed, but Trevor didn't care. He was living his truth, the power dynamics of his fantasies coming to life in the most deliciously perverse way.

The whispers grew into a murmur, then a roar that echoed through the ivy-covered walls of the university. His teammates whispered in locker rooms, their eyes lingering on his now-infamous ass. Professors looked at him with newfound hunger, knowing that the all-American boy was really a desperate whore craving their attention. And Trevor, ever the eager pupil, learned to navigate this new world with a grace that belied his newfound sluttiness.

The darkened alleys of the city became his playground, a place where he could shed his jock persona and embrace the muscle bitch within. He grew to love the feel of rough hands on his body, the sound of zippers being undone, and the grunts of men who claimed him. He sought out the most dangerous and depraved, offering himself to them freely, eager to feel their lust and disregard for his once-sacrosanct status.

Trevor's escapades grew bolder with each passing night. The thrill of being used by strangers in public was intoxicating, and he craved the attention, the fear, and the degradation. He found himself in situations that would have once appalled him, but now brought him to the brink of ecstasy. He would lie back on the grimy toilet floor with pee puddles soaking his muscled back, his legs spread wide as a transvestite prostitute took him, his hefty pecs bouncing with each hard thrust. He didn't care who saw, didn't care about the danger. All that mattered was the feeling of being owned, of being used up and cast aside like the trash that littered the alleyways.

His reputation grew as whispers turned into hushed conversations, and those conversations grew into open discussions. The once-worshiped jock was now the plaything of the underbelly of the university. His name was spoken in the same breath as "slut" and "cumdump," and yet he reveled in the notoriety. It was a strange kind of power, knowing that everyone knew what he was, and that no matter how much they talked, he was still the one getting off.

Trevor's forays into the night grew more and more daring. He would leave his dorm room in the early hours, his body glistening with baby oil, his cock already half-hard with anticipation. The thrill of the unknown was a potent aphrodisiac, and he found himself craving the danger of being caught. It didn't take long for the less savory characters of the city to catch wind of his escapades. They sought him out, eager to add their own twisted flavor to his degradation.

One night, as a naked and oiled-up Trevor was bent over the hood of a car, getting pounded by a burly truck driver, he heard the sound of laughter. His heart sank as he recognized the voices of his teammates, stumbling out of a nearby frat party. They had finally found him out, but instead of the disgust he had feared, he saw lust and excitement in their eyes. They approached, their drunken stumbles turning into predatory strides.

"Look what we have here," one of them slurred, a sneer on his face. "Our captain, the big man on campus, letting some old fag fill him up."

Trevor's heart raced as he tried to pull away, his muscles straining against the truck driver's iron grip. But the driver just chuckled, his rhythm not faltering as he pumped into the jock's ass. "Don't worry, boy," he murmured in his ear. "I'll make sure you're good and full before they get their turn."

The teammates circled around, their eyes glinting with a mix of lust and spite. One of them, a burly catcher named Marcus, stepped forward. "Looks like we've got ourselves a little secret here," he said, his grin wicked. "You're ours now, Trevor. Our little cumdump. And we're gonna make sure you don't forget it."

The end.