17 Loads
The bench is freezing against my bare ass, and I can’t feel my dick.
Well—I can feel it. It’s been rock-hard since somewhere around the third slice of pizza, and the silk cord Grant wrapped tight around the base is keeping me from spilling. I’m leaking, too. Pre-cum has been oozing out of me since the car ride. There’s probably a fat puddle on the wood right under me, and I genuinely cannot bring myself to care.
The park is pitch-black. Trees, a deserted path, the distant hum of the city bleeding through the treeline. Walker found it on some shady forum and apparently has been sitting on that information waiting for an occasion.
Yeah, well, Saturday night was the occasion.
I was chilling in my room when Walker walked in, Finn trailing right behind him. He said, “Okay, so hear us out,”and Iheard them out and was immediately, completely, one hundred percent in.
The part where we got the other guys on board took longer. Miles looked up from his laptop and threw out an “Absolutely not.”Reid just gave us a lethal bitch face, which from him means the exact same thing. But Grant showed up at seven-thirty with a six-pack, immediately demanded to know whose twisted idea this was, and the second Walker raised his hand, Grant just said, “Obviously,”and cracked open a beer.
The writing thing was entirely Finn’s brainchild.
He pulled up references on his phone—hishentaireferences—and then someone found a sharpie. Walker did most of it, laughing the whole time, while Grant tossed out suggestions and Finn directed the layout like a porn producer. I stood naked in the middle of the living room while they wrote on my skin, fighting for my fucking life to not pop a full boner before we even stepped out the front door.
Finn snapped a photo of the finished work and turned the screen around to show me.
I went rock-hard immediately. Like,instantly.Because I looked exactly like what I was: a piece of meat meant to be used. Something that existed solely for the room to drain.
FREE USEwas written across my collarbones.HUMAN FUCKTOYran straight down my sternum in Walker’s heavy block caps.NOT A PERSONsat dead-center on my pecs, and underneath it,PROPERTY OF THE HOUSE 003. HANDLE WITH CAREcrossed out on my ribs,ACTUALLY DON’Twritten below it. And over my left pec, a tinyREID’S.
I swiped to the next photo.
COMMUNAL HOLE andCUMDUMPacross my abs.USE ALL HOLESran hip to hip, flanked byANY HOLEandNO LIMITS.
“Bro,” Finn said, his eyes dropping to my crotch. “He’s already checked out.”
“Holy fuck,” Walker breathed, crowding over Finn’s shoulder. “Dude’s dick is weeping.”
I made a sound that wasn’t words and swiped to the next photo. It’s my back now.HIGH QUALITY FUCKHOLEpoints an arrow down my spine, right intoSPANK MEsplit across both cheeks.DRILL HEREwas inked right above my hole with another one of Finn’s sloppy arrows.
The last photo is a close-up of my face. DUMB DOLL was written on my forehead with a little dick doodle next to it. On my cheeks—PISSwas crossed out hard, replaced withSPIT HEREand a little arrow, and on the other sideCUM HEREpointed straight at my mouth.FACE FUCK MEwas lettered dark and thick right down my throat.
Finn took the phone back. My cock was so swollen it fucking ached.
“Okay,” Grant said, standing up from the couch and crushing his empty beer can. “Let’s roll.”
The second we hit the highway, they started hammering out the rules. My brain went completely offline somewhere around mile two because the sheer filth of the conversation was enough to short-circuit my system. They talked about me like I was a piece of plastic riding in the back seat—which only made my dick throb harder—while I just sat between Reid and Miles with my hands in my lap, taking in every word and trying not to blow my load.
Condoms. Every single time. Non-negotiable.That was Miles.
Nobody gets more than one turn.Walker’s rule.
Someone stays with him the entire night.Reid.
He asked me to film it. Man, it’s gonna be a masterpiece.Finn.
I’ll go with him first.Grant, when Miles and Reid started an argument about it.
Then, total silence in the car.
And now here I am, sitting exactly how Grant posed me—legs spread wide, hands resting loose on my thighs, slumped helplessly over the park bench. The biting night air is doing ungodly things to my nipples. My cock is so engorged and locked down by the cord that it’s practically a medical emergency at this point.
Grant is sitting right next to me, totally unfazed. His phone is out, his thumb scrolling through some feed, looking completely bored.
Finn is circling us like a vulture, capturing every angle. He’s crouching low, tilting his camera up, the flash cutting through the dark every few seconds.Click. Click. Click.
