My Bullies - Chapter Thirty-Six

TW for the next few chapters. Things get a little intense, and the consent definitely becomes a little grey to say the least. Read at your own discretion!

The game clock ticked down in the final quarter. The room was loud—cheers for big plays, groans for missed calls, beer cans clinking, occasional trash talk. Ethan stayed between Caleb’s thighs the whole time, naked, knees aching against the carpet, cock still hard and leaking in slow, frustrated drips. Caleb’s hand never left his hair—petting, tugging gently, a constant reminder of ownership.

With under two minutes left and the score still close, Ethan couldn’t take it anymore.

He tilted his head back, looking up at Caleb with wide, glassy puppy-dog eyes—pleading, desperate, terrified. Silent tears tracked down his cheeks. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. The look said everything:

Please don’t let them all use me. It’s too much. Keep me for yourself.

Caleb met his gaze.

For a long moment, the noise of the room faded. Caleb’s expression softened—just a flicker, but Ethan saw it. Something real. Something almost tender beneath the control.

Caleb’s fingers tightened in Ethan’s hair, then released.

He stood abruptly, pulling Ethan up by the hand.

The room noticed immediately. Heads turned. Mason frowned. Tyler raised an eyebrow.

Caleb didn’t explain. He simply led Ethan out of the living room by the hand, down the hallway toward the stairs. The others stared after them, confused murmurs starting.

Once they were out of sight, Caleb stopped in the dim hallway.

Ethan broke.

He dropped to his knees, clutching Caleb’s thigh, voice cracking.

“Please,” he whispered. “Don’t let them all… I can’t. Not all ten. It’s too much. I’m yours—only yours. Please keep me for yourself. I’ll do anything. I’ll be good. Just… don’t share me tonight.”

Caleb looked down at him—really looked.

His jaw worked. For the first time all day, the mask slipped. There was conflict in his eyes, something deeper than control. He crouched, cupping Ethan’s face with both hands, thumbs wiping away the tears.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know it’s too much.”

He exhaled slowly.

“You’re mine first. Always.”

Ethan sobbed in relief, pressing his face into Caleb’s palm.

Caleb helped him stand, kissed his forehead—soft, lingering—then took his hand again.

They walked back toward the living room.

The second they stepped through the doorway, chaos erupted.

Mason and Tyler were on their feet in an instant. Two of the new guys—the football players—moved fast. Before Caleb could react, they ambushed him from both sides, pinning his arms behind his back. A third guy grabbed his legs. They wrestled him to the floor in seconds, forcing him face-down on the carpet.

Caleb struggled, cursing, but they were too many.

Ropes appeared—gym-bag spares—and they bound his wrists and ankles together behind him, hog-tying him in the middle of the room.

The other boys stood back, watching with wide eyes, some smirking, some uncertain.

Caleb twisted his head, glaring up at them.

“What the fuck—”

Mason crouched beside him, grinning.

“You’ve been hogging him all week, Cap. We’re all part of the group now. Time to share properly.”

They turned as one to look at Ethan.

Nine pairs of eyes—hungry, dark, unyielding.

Ethan stood frozen in the doorway, naked, trembling, heart slamming.

The room went silent except for the TV blaring the final seconds of the game.