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Ethan's legs felt like jelly as they left the department store, the new jeans in a bag slung over Caleb's shoulder. The spot on his shorts had dried somewhat, but the pre-cum stain was still visible if anyone looked close. The mall was busier now—families, teens, shoppers milling around. Every glance felt like judgment; every laugh from a passing group made his stomach twist. Caleb steered them toward a new store—a trendy underwear shop, bright lights and mannequins in skimpy

Saturday morning Ethan woke to the faint burn of humiliation still lingering in his chest. The marker on his thigh had faded to a ghostly outline, but his skin felt hypersensitive everywhere the razor had touched—pubes, ass cheeks, hole completely smooth. He showered, the water sliding over bare skin like a reminder, his cock twitching at the memory of Caleb's voice, the dare, the taste. His phone buzzed mid-shower: Caleb's DM. Mall at 1. Food court. Loose shorts. No underwea

Ethan woke up to sunlight filtering through his blinds, body heavy and aching. His cock was still half-hard from the night before, the marker "Caleb’s Property" smudged but legible on his inner thigh. He showered quickly, the hot water doing nothing to ease the persistent throb. No underwear today—not after Caleb kept his briefs. He pulled on jeans and a hoodie, the denim chafing against his bare skin with every step. The marker felt like a secret brand, burning under his clo

Ethan barely made it through the drive home. Every shift in the seat rubbed the rough denim against his aching cock, the lack of underwear making it worse—constant friction, constant reminder of what he'd left behind in Caleb's pocket. His throat was raw, lips swollen, the taste of cum lingering like a brand. By the time he parked in the driveway—parents thankfully out for the night—his jeans had a dark wet spot at the front, pre-cum soaking through. He stumbled inside, locke

Ethan sucked freely now, head bobbing with eager, sloppy rhythm—deep every time, throat opening smoothly to take Caleb all the way to the root. Wet, obscene sounds filled the room: the slick glide of lips along veined shaft, the soft gluck when he bottomed out, saliva dripping in thick strings from the corners of his mouth down his chin and onto Caleb’s balls. Ethan’s hands braced on Caleb’s thighs, fingers digging in for leverage as he worked faster, hungrier. Caleb’s breath

Caleb’s hand tightened in Ethan’s hair—not rough, but firm enough to guide. He looked down, eyes dark and heavy-lidded, and pushed forward in one slow, deliberate motion. The thick head breached Ethan’s lips again, then slid deeper—past the back of his tongue, into the tight heat of his throat. Ethan’s eyes widened for a split second, expecting the familiar choke, the burn, the reflex he’d braced for from every porn clip he’d ever watched in secret. It never came. No gag. No

Caleb’s hand moved first—fingers wrapping loosely around the thick base of his cock, lifting it slowly from where it rested against his thigh. The shaft had thickened further in the last minutes, veins more pronounced now, the head flushed a deep, glossy pink. A fresh bead of pre-cum welled at the slit and began to slide downward. He brought the tip forward until it hovered just in front of Ethan’s parted lips—close enough that Ethan could feel the radiant heat, smell the cle

Caleb stepped back slowly, breaking the intimate press of skin against skin. He sat on the edge of the bed, legs spreading wide, thighs thick and relaxed. His chubbed cock rested heavy along one thigh, the shaft thickening further under Ethan’s gaze, veins beginning to stand out more prominently, the head glistening with that single bead of pre-cum that hadn’t yet fallen. He leaned back on his palms, looking down at Ethan with calm, unhurried expectation. “You want this?” Cal

The view count on the burner post kept climbing on Diego’s phone screen—now past three hundred, likes ticking upward like a heartbeat—but Caleb suddenly raised a hand. “Enough,” he said, voice low but final. “You three. Out.” Mason blinked, mid-laugh. Tyler started to protest, but Caleb’s stare shut him down instantly. “Now,” Caleb added, softer, more dangerous. “We’ll catch up tomorrow.” There was a beat of surprised silence. Then shrugs, smirks, the scrape of chairs. Mason

Ethan remained slumped against the bedframe, wrists still loosely cinched behind his back by the belt, legs forced wide apart, every inch of him exposed and trembling. His face burned from the slaps, streaked with drying spit and tears, lips swollen and tasting of their collective saliva. His cock stood painfully rigid between his thighs—head flushed dark purple, veins bulging, a constant glistening thread of pre-cum stretching downward before breaking and dripping onto the c

Ethan’s arms burned from holding the all-fours position for so long, but when Caleb finally gave the order—“Sit up against the bed, legs wide”—he moved without hesitation. His body felt heavy, overstimulated, every muscle trembling. He shuffled backward on his knees until his back met the edge of the mattress, then slid down to sit on the floor with his spine pressed to the bedframe. Mason produced a leather belt from the closet—simple, black, worn—and looped it loosely aroun

Ethan remained collapsed forward on the carpet, forehead pressed to the rough fibers, ass still raised high, hole gaping and fluttering from the final brutal fingering. His cock hung heavy and angry between his legs, untouched for what felt like hours, leaking a steady thin string of pre-cum that dangled toward the floor before snapping and joining the small wet spot beneath him. Every breath came as a shaky whimper; his entire body trembled with denied need and lingering ove

Ethan’s back arched off the carpet, hips rocking desperately onto Caleb’s thick fingers as they curled and thrust inside him, hitting that spot over and over with merciless precision. His hole was loose now, slick and greedy, clenching around every withdrawal like it didn’t want to let go. Pre-cum dribbled steadily from his untouched cock, pooling in the hollow of his navel, his whole body flushed and trembling on the edge—but Caleb knew exactly when to slow down, when to pul

Ethan barely had time to catch his breath from the largest dildo—his hole stretched wide, clenching around the thick base as he hovered on his knees, body slick with sweat and lube—when Caleb's hands gripped his shoulders. With a firm shove, Caleb pushed him backward, sending Ethan tumbling onto his back on the carpet. The impact jarred the toy deeper inside him, a sharp burst of fullness that made him gasp, legs splaying open instinctively. The big dildo stayed lodged in his

Ethan lay there on the carpet, fingers still buried deep inside himself, pumping slowly as waves of unfamiliar pleasure rippled through his core. His hole clenched around the intrusion, slick and yielding, every crook of his digits brushing that spot that made his cock leak harder, pre-cum pooling on his stomach in sticky trails. The boys' eyes bored into him—hungry, amused, their own bulges more pronounced now in their pants. He couldn't stop the small, breathy moans escapin

Ethan’s hips still swayed in clumsy, desperate circles, his hand gliding slow and slick along his cock as the boys lounged on the bed and chair like they were watching a private strip show. Sweat beaded on his temples; his thighs trembled from holding the position so long. Every roll of his ass made his hole clench emptily, the memory of their spit and piss from the locker room flashing behind his eyes and sending fresh pre-cum dripping over his knuckles. Caleb watched with h

Ethan followed Caleb down the dimly lit hallway, the house quiet except for the low thump of bass coming from somewhere deeper inside. His heart hammered against his ribs so hard he was sure Caleb could hear it. Every step felt heavier, like walking through water, but his cock—still traitorously hard from the car ride—strained against the front of his jeans, the denim doing nothing to hide the outline. Caleb pushed open the door to his bedroom without knocking. The other thre

The weekend arrived like a slow-rolling storm Ethan couldn’t outrun. Friday had been torture—every hallway glance from Caleb or Mason or Tyler made his stomach lurch, his skin prickle with the memory of tile against his back, their hands pinning him, the wet heat of their piss, the way his own cum had painted his chest while Diego’s phone captured every humiliating second. He’d showered three times that night, scrubbing until his skin was raw, but the shame clung like damp cl

Ethan lay there on the slick tile, drenched and dazed, his body a mess of cooling piss and his own relentless leaks. The sharp scent clung to his skin, mixing with the heat still coiling in his gut, his cock twitching untouched now, begging for friction he didn't dare give without permission. He couldn't meet their eyes, but he felt them—four shadows looming, soft cocks still hanging out, glistening from the streams they'd unleashed, looking a little thicker now, slightly chu

Ethan's body was a live wire, arched on the bench with his ass high and cheeks spread, hand flying over his slick cock as pre-cum pooled beneath him. The humiliation fueled something deep and forbidden inside, his breaths ragged, moans slipping out despite his clenched teeth. He couldn't admit it—wouldn't—but the degradation, the exposure, it all twisted into a dark pleasure that had him leaking like a faucet, edging closer to a release he both craved and feared. The bullies