Misadventures as a Catholic Schoolgirl

The only reasonably-sized bit of free time Casey gets during the school day—at least, the only bit of time that he doesn’t spend being fucked—is around the lunch period. Getting in and out of the bathroom to jerk himself off and getting back in time to eat lunch isn’t easy though; he has to be fast.

It’s because he’s in a rush that he’s not paying as much attention as he should be when he ducks into the girls‘ bathroom for his daily wank. He’s already in a stall, sitting down on the toilet and letting his backpack drop to the floor with a clatter, when he hears voices coming from the next stall over and realizes he’s not alone. He freezes.

“Oh, no, I...” it’s a girl’s voice, soft and embarrassed. “I’m saving it for marriage. I’m sorry, you’re really great and all, but I’m just not...”

“That’s alright.” Casey is startled to hear a boy’s voice. And not just any boy: he recognizes the voice of Marcus, the first boy to fuck him. The one who set everything in motion. Up to his old tricks again, apparently.

“I know something else we can do,” purrs Marcus from the next stall. “Something that would feel good, but still let you keep your virginity...”

There’s a pause, and then a sharp slapping noise. “How dare you!” comes the girl’s high-pitched squeal. The stall door slams open. ‘Good for her,’ Casey thinks. He waits until he hears their footsteps retreating, and the opening and closing of the bathroom door signaling that they’re gone. Then he lets out the breath he was holding.

Apparently Marcus hasn’t learned his lesson. Casey huffs a laugh. And why should he have? He clearly got everything he wanted out of his encounter with Casey. If only more girls slapped him in the face after his proposals, maybe he’d calm down. Or at least be a little more circumspect.

Casey digs around in the side pocket of his backpack and draws out the small key that he keeps there, really more like a tiny, intricately-shaped cylinder of metal than an actual key. He flips his skirt up and takes his caged member in one hand. It strains mightily against its bondage; he’s still crazy turned on from Mr. Ramiel plowing him this morning.

They’ve been going a few weeks now, a steady routine of Mr. Ramiel picking up Casey in the morning on his motorcycle and taking Casey back to his office to screw him heartily across the teacher’s desk. Lately he’s been getting a little bolder; rubbing Casey’s padded bra and running his fingers up the insides of Casey’s thighs when they do it. Casey is starting to worry that the teacher is going to discover his secret. But so far he doesn’t seem to have caught on.

Casey unlocks his cage and allows his member to spring out with a happy sigh. He takes it in hand and pumps it a few times, biting his lip at the feeling of relief.

“Well, this is certainly an interesting development.”

Casey startles so badly that he drops the key and cage onto the floor. His head whips up to where the voice came from only to see the grinning face of Marcus leering down at him over the bathroom stall partition. He must be standing on the toilet in the neighboring stall.

Casey hurries to cover his crotch with his hands, but it’s already too late.

“What have we here?” Marcus’s voice is syrupy sweet, and gleeful. “You know, I’ve been hearing some real juicy gossip about you. Nothing quite this juicy, of course, but they say you’ve become a real cock-hound. The rumors have it that you have a new set of boys doing you every afternoon, and even that you’re seeing a teacher in the off hours. Guess my cock must’ve really made you desperate for it, huh? You doing all of this because you miss being rammed by my big boy? Although in retrospect, it’s kind of gross considering you’re a dude.”

“What do you want, Marcus?” Casey bites out through gritted teeth.

“Now that,” says Marcus, “is the right question. I own you now. This is the beginning of a long and prosperous relationship, I can tell.”

Casey’s heart drops into his feet. “What are you talking about?”

“Well,” says Marcus, “now I know your secret, you have to stop me from telling, yeah?”

“Don’t be stupid!” Casey’s whole body feels shaky, shivery. His heart is beating a mile a minute. “You were having sex in school too. You’d be in just as much trouble.”

“Oh please.” Marcus waves a hand dismissively. “That’s not even in the same league. You say that about me, and who do you think they’ll believe? Star student, or the boy who’s been cross-dressing for months already? Besides, I don’t even have to tell the school. I could just tell the boys that’ve been fucking you. You really think they’ll just take it all in stride? You’d be dead by the end of the day.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Marcus smiles. “Not if you do everything I say, starting now. And first things first, come over here and blow me. That bitch from before was such a tease, and got me all riled up. But lock your dick back up first. I don’t want a pervy fag like you getting turned on from giving me head.”

Casey picks up the cage from the bathroom floor with shaking fingers. “I thought you said having sex with a boy was gross?” he says.

Marcus’s head disappears back down into the stall, but his voice is still clear. “It is, which is why I’m not going to fuck you. But a blow job’s a blow job. Looking down at you in that skirt, it’s easy enough to keep pretending. Not like you got any stubble or anything.”

That logic doesn’t make any fucking sense, but Casey’s not exactly in a position to argue about it. He’s shaking so badly he has a hard time getting the cage back on. After a minute or two of fumbling, Marcus bangs on the partition wall between them. “Hurry it up, slut. I don’t got all day.”

Casey finally manages to get the cage back on and drops the key back in his backpack. He slings the strap of the pack over one shoulder and sits a moment longer. His mind is a silent, blank scream. He doesn’t want to go to the next stall, but what choice does he have? Marcus is right; he basically owns Casey now.

Casey slumps his way into the adjoining stall and sets down his pack. Marcus is sitting on the toilet, his dick already out and hard. He gestures for Casey to drop to his knees between Marcus’s legs. Casey does.

He puts his hands hesitantly on Marcus’s knees. Marcus rolls his eyes, apparently impatient, and grabs Casey’s head, yanking it forward until he mashes Casey’s lips against his dick. “Open up!” he commands.

Casey does as he’s told and Marcus quickly shoves his cock in the warm cavern of Casey’s mouth. He sighs happily. “That’s it,” he mutters. As Casey reluctantly begins to bob his head up and down, Marcus leans forward slightly and reaches down, rummaging through Casey’s backpack.

“Hey, what are you doing!” Casey draws his head back long enough to protest.

“Shut up and focus on what you’re doing, bitch,” says Marcus. He leans back again and Casey sees that Marcus has Casey’s phone. He types something on the keypad briefly, then tosses the phone back onto Casey’s backpack. Finished, his hands go to Casey’s hair, clutching it and using it to control the speed of Casey’s bobs.

Marcus lets him continue like that for a minute or two before abruptly tightening his grip and then firmly face-fucking Casey, bucking up into his hole in deep, brutal thrusts that hit the back of Casey’s throat and almost make him gag. Then he comes.

Casey winces as Marcus pulls his hair, staying buried deep in Casey’s throat until the last pulses of his orgasm subside. He laughs as Casey draws back off him and coughs.

“Nice seeing you again, bitch,” he says as he puts his dick away. “Looking forward to the next time.”

Casey slumps weakly to the floor as Marcus steps over him and heads out of the girls’ bathroom. And now he doesn’t even have time to get himself off.

Against Casey’s expectations, he doesn’t actually hear from Marcus for the rest of the week. It isn’t until Friday night that he suddenly gets a text on his phone.

After Marcus had left the bathroom, Casey checked his phone to see what Marcus had done to it. The only anomaly he’d found was that Marcus had apparently texted “Hey” to an unknown number. It’s not until that same unknown number appears on Casey’s display Friday evening that he finally puts two and two together and realizes that Marcus must have texted himself so he’d have Casey’s number.

Casey holds the phone in his hands, staring at the display, not sure how to respond.

Casey bites his lip. He taps back a reply.

A moment later, the reply comes.

Casey swallows and puts the phone away.

On Saturday afternoon, Marcus rolls up into the driveway in a slick blue car with a spoiler on the back. He scowls as Casey heads down the driveway and opens the passenger door, sliding in next to him. “Where the fuck is your uniform?”

“I have it here,” Casey says lifting his backpack. He certainly wasn’t leaving the house in his girl’s uniform while his mother was home. He’d told her he was going to spend the afternoon at a friend’s house.

“Where are we going?” Casey asks.

“My place,” says Marcus.

There is a short silence. Finally Casey can’t take it anymore. “And? What’s going to happen when we get there?”

“You’ll see,” says Marcus with a grin. “Be patient.”

When they arrive, Marcus shuffles Casey downstairs as soon as they get in the door. Casey hears Marcus’s mother call something to them as they begin to descend the carpeted steps, but Marcus calls back, “No thanks, Mom! We’ll be down in the den! Just tell my other friends to come downstairs when they get here, okay?” That doesn’t bode well.

The stairs, it turns out, lead down into a subterranean living room area with a carpeted floor and one slim window high up along the far wall. The room is actually pretty nice; a sunken area off to the side has couches and a TV, and there are shelves with board games, books, and video games. It would be a comfortably cozy living space if it weren’t for what Casey suspects is about to happen here.

“You can leave your backpack here,” Marcus gestures to a shelf by the basement door, “and you can go change in there. Might want to clean yourself out too, if you can; your ass is gonna be getting quite the workout today.” He gestures to another door off to one side of the room. It’s slightly ajar, and Casey sees the tiles of a bathroom on the other side.

Casey clenches his teeth, debating whether it’s worth asking again what’s about to happen to him. Instead he drops his bag where Marcus told him to and digs out his school uniform. He gives Marcus one last glare before going into the bathroom to change.

One wall of the bathroom is entirely mirrored, and Casey stops to look at himself in the girl’s uniform. This whole thing was probably a mistake. He should never have worn this outfit on the first day to begin with. If he’d gone to school in a t-shirt and jeans, he might have gotten in trouble with the administration, but at least he wouldn’t be in this mess now. Heck, he probably wouldn’t even have gotten in trouble, since it was his first day. Hindsight: ever 20-20.

Casey emerges from the bathroom and throws his regular clothes onto his backpack. Marcus is digging through some kind of closet in the corner, looking through a box of some kind. Unsure what to do, Casey goes and sits on one of the sleek leather couches.

Marcus pauses in his rummaging and leans back out of the closet to get a look at Casey. He grins. “There’s the pretty girl we all know and love,” he sneers. “Drag out that ottoman onto the raised area here, under the lights. Then lie down on it on your stomach. We gotta get you prepared.”

Casey flinches. But of course he’d known this was going to be sexual, and probably humiliating. There was no way Marcus would let him get away with anything else.

The ottoman in question is a large leather square, as big as one of the couch segments; maybe three or four feet across. It’s as tall as the couch too; less a footstool and more an additional, optional segment of the couch itself. Casey hadn’t even realized it could separate until Marcus had said so.

Casey drags the ottoman onto the raised area of the den floor where Marcus indicated, right underneath one of the light fixtures that are flush with the low ceiling. Swallowing, he tries to decide which way to lie down; ass facing the stairs? Facing Marcus? In the end he decides he’d rather keep an eye on Marcus, and faces his ass towards the bathroom door and the descending stairs leading down into the den.

“I thought you said it was gross to fuck me, now that you know I’m a guy?” Casey says.

“Yeah, what’s your point?” says Marcus, still rummaging through the closet.

“Well, if you need to ‘prepare’ me, isn’t that... I dunno. Too gay for you?”

“Hah!” says Marcus, but apparently not in response to Casey. He draws back out from the closet, clutching an object. When he turns around, Casey sees that it is in fact a large vibrator. His eyes widen. Marcus grins at him.

Casey’s heart races as Marcus approaches him, drawing a tube of lubricant out of his pocket and opening it nonchalantly. He loses sight of Marcus as the boy passes behind him, not wanting to crane around to watch what’s about to happen.

Instead of pulling down Casey’s skirt like all the other boys do, Marcus flips it upward onto Casey’s back, and Casey feels Marcus’s fingers slip beneath the hem of his underwear before yanking them down to his thighs.

“Nice touch, the girly panties,” Marcus snickers.

“Most boy underwear doesn’t fit right under the skirt,” Casey protests. “Besides, the boys usually see the edge of it when they pull the skirt down, and I didn’t want-”

He’s cut off by the squelching sound of the lube. “Whoops,” says Marcus. Then, “Oh well. Guess we want this good and covered anyway. Certainly not sticking my fingers up there. A fag like you would like that too much.”

Casey is about to respond, but he’s suddenly distracted by an insistent nudging pressure against his anus. He grits his teeth. He hasn’t had anything this big slide into him without preparation since the early days of fucking in the empty classroom. He hadn’t thought to prepare himself at home before coming here, although he probably should have.

Marcus is relentless, showing no mercy as he slowly slides the sex-toy up Casey’s ass. He thankfully doesn’t try to ram it in too fast, but the size and pressure of it are intense, and Casey groans as it splits him wide. It goes on longer than it seems like it should, the inch by inch slide of the phallus. Casey clenches his hands on the edges of the ottoman until finally the intrusion comes to a halt, leaving him fully stuffed.

Then he yelps as Marcus switches the vibrator on. The toy not only vibrates but writhes inside of him. Casey is reminded of Mr. Ramiel fisting him; the prehensile movements of the toy are unreal, and rub at him in unexpected and delicious ways. Casey moans and squirms under its ministrations.

A sudden flash of light makes Casey look back over his shoulder, startled. Marcus has his cell phone out and is snapping photos of Casey’s behind, stuffed full with the vibrator, his penis clearly caged beneath.

“What are you doing?” Casey yells. He tries to sound stern, but his voice breaks in the middle of the sentence as the vibrator nudges against his prostate. He can feel his dick trying to harden in its cage.

“Just getting some insurance,” Marcus assures him. “And some marketing materials.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Casey demands. But Marcus says nothing, just snaps a few more pictures before putting his phone away. Then he reaches forward and, to Casey’s surprise, pulls Casey’s panties back up, hiding his penetration away. He even lowers Casey’s skirt.

“There,” he says, giving Casey’s butt a friendly pat through the cloth. “Now you’re all nice and wrapped up neat, like a present.”

“A present for who?” Casey asks, but again Marcus doesn’t answer. Instead he goes over to a bookshelf in the corner and retrieves a novel and then, to Casey’s surprise, goes to sit nonchalantly on the couch and starts reading.

“What the hell?” Casey protests. He starts to rise up onto his knees and elbows, but it proves to be surprisingly difficult to support his own weight with his ass crammed so full.

“Ah-ah,” Marcus cautions, looking up at him. “You stay like that. The real party starts soon enough. Just give that wand a little time to work its magic. It’s more for your own benefit anyway.”

Casey bites his lip, but settles back down onto his stomach. The vibrator whirrs away inside of him, squirming along his sensitive insides and driving him crazy. He wants to rut against the side of the ottoman, but with his cock caged it wouldn’t make any difference anyway. He hates to admit how incredibly turned-on the toy is making him.

Over time the vibration begins to overstimulate, and Casey feels his flesh start to go pleasantly numb. He’s not sure how long he’s been lying like this—maybe 10 minutes? Marcus shows absolutely zero interest in him. Then, finally, the door knob at the top of the stairs rattles. It doesn’t open: locked. There’s a brief knock.

“Who is it?” Marcus calls.

“It’s us,” comes a male voice that Casey doesn’t recognize.

“Finally,” Marcus mutters, and puts down his book, going up the stairs to unlock the door. Casey can’t see who’s there from this angle; Marcus’s body is blocking his view. But he hears the sound of palms slapping in some sort of hand-shake, and then Marcus turns around to come back down the stairs, telling the mysterious visitor, “Lock the door behind you.”

Not one mysterious visitor, Casey sees as they descend the staircase: three. Three young men that Casey doesn’t recognize, two white guys and a black guy. Older than the two of them, although maybe not quite what Casey would call adult yet. 19, maybe? 20? One of them whistles when he sees Casey all laid out.

“Man, you weren’t joking,” he says.

“I was not,” Marcus confirms. He stops at the bottom of the stairs and holds his hand out. “Pay first, then he’s all yours.”

So that’s it then. Casey watches as all three of the men stick wads of bills into Marcus’s open hand. Marcus is pimping him out. The practicality of it is almost disappointing. Marcus flips through the bills as the three men move past him, coming to stand around Casey.

“He’s cuter than I thought,” says one of them. Casey’s eyes follow Marcus as the boy saunters back to the couch and picks up his book again. Then his vision is blocked as one of the men kneels in front of him. “I call dibs on first blowjob,” he says.

“Fine by me,” one of the other men says with a shrug. Casey feels a hand starting to feel its way up his thigh, tentatively at first, as the man in front takes out an obscenely large cock and waves it in Casey’s face. Casey gulps.

“There some magic word or something to get him started?” the man asks. He’s looking down at Casey, but Marcus is the one who responds.

“Just give him commands,” he says, sounding bored. “Do it, slut, is probably good enough.”

The man standing in front of Casey grins down at him. “Well?” he says. “Get to sucking my cock, slut.”

Casey winces, but opens his mouth. The man seems content to wait, letting Casey do all the work. Humiliated, Casey creeps forward slightly, shifting his weight on the ottoman so he can lean forward and take the head of the man’s cock between his lips. The man groans. “All of it, bitch,” he says. Casey shifts his weight again, leaning forward as much as he can. He’s never had a cock this big in his mouth before. He gags as it hits his throat. The man laughs.

“Come on slut, you can do better than that,” he says. He leans his own weight forward, shoving the full length of his cock inexorably down Casey’s throat.

As Casey chokes and tries to breathe through his nose, he feels hands massaging his buttocks through his skirt. One of the men behind him chuckles. “No point in a big lead-up. Let’s see the goods.” He feels his skirt being raised up, and then a surprised huff from the watching men. The vibrator must be obvious, even through his underwear.

“Ain’t that a delicious sight,” says one of them. “Guess the little slut got lonely waiting for us, huh?” He gives one of Casey’s butt-cheeks a firm slap. “Poor little slut can’t stand not having something up his boy-pussy. Well don’t worry, we’ll fill you nice and good.”

He feels them press down on the base of the vibrator through the panties and can’t stifle a moan, causing the assembled men to laugh. “He sure is eager to get fucked.” Casey can’t tell if that’s the other man behind him or the first one.

He feels their fingers sliding under his panties and then peeling them down off of him. There’s another short pause of surprise as their busy hands encounter the cold stainless steel of his cage. He can feel them grab it and pull it back into the light, examining it. “What’s this?” says one of them.

“Oh, he likes it that way,” says Marcus from the couch. “Doesn’t want to get all worn out just from being fucked the first couple times. Gotta save it up, you know? Makes him way hornier.”

“Nice,” says one of the men. He drops the cage.

“Focus!” says the guy in front of him, commanding. He buries his hands in Casey’s hair and yanks him forward, even though he can’t possibly be speared any deeper on the man’s cock. Casey flinches and concentrates on sucking, moving his tongue as much as he can under the cock and trying to swallow around it. The man relents, releasing Casey’s hair with one hand and petting his head instead. “That’s right,” he says soothingly.

Behind Casey, one of the men grabs the now-exposed base of the vibrator and yanks it out of a few inches before slamming it back into Casey’s hole. He doesn’t turn it off, so it slips and slides around his anus when the man tries to push it back in, squirming its way uncomfortably into him like some kind of animal. With a firm grip on the base, the man begins to fuck Casey with the vibrator.

It’s all Casey can do not to bite down on the cock in his mouth as the squirming sensations rock in and out of him. He has the disconcerting sensation that the dildo is alive, that it’s burrowing its way inside him. He has the sudden mental image of a small terrier squirming its way into a hole in the dirt after a rabbit.

“Fuck man, let’s just fuck him already,” says the other man, clearly impatient. The vibrator is abruptly turned off. Casey feels the sudden lack of vibration more than he had been feeling its presence. He feels his passage clench against the toy as it’s drawn slowly, painstakingly out of him. As the head finally pops back out, he feels his hole spasm. The men laugh again.

“Look at that eager little hole, waiting to be pounded,” says one.

“You got lube?” asks the other, in Marcus’s direction.

“He barely needs it,” says the first one before Marcus can respond. “Look how fucked-open he is.”

“On the floor next to you,” Marcus replies.

Casey hears the cap of the lube snap open again, and the squelching sounds of the tube being squeezed. “You wanna go first, or should I?” comes one of the disembodied voices.

“We could do him at the same time,” the other voice offers. “Give him the stuffing he really wants. We’d probably have to move over to the couch for that though.”

“Let me finish first,” this last is from the man in front of him. He grabs the back of Casey’s head and starts to swivel his hips in sharp thrusts down Casey’s throat. “I’m almost done here, I think.”

“Fine, I’ll go first then,” says one of the voices from behind, and with no more warning than that Casey feels a cock slide into his ass. It’s a feeling he’s well used to by now.

The men fuck him in unison. They’re better at coordinating it than the boys at school, and their cocks are bigger. Casey feels skewered through, like a pig on a spit, as the men ram into him at both ends. The man behind him isn’t quite hitting his prostate, but it still turns Casey on more than he cares to admit to feel the sweet, thick slide of the man’s cock as he plows Casey’s ass.

For a while the only sounds are the soft grunts of the men and the wet slapping noises of Casey’s holes being fucked. Then finally the man in front of him slams forward and twitches his load down Casey’s throat. Casey swallows and gags and swallows some more.

The man slides his softening cock out of Casey’s mouth with a sigh. Casey pants for breath as it leaves. “Alright,” says the man. “Now you want to move him to the couch?”

“Fuck, let me just-” says the man behind Casey, and Casey feels a few more harsh, ramming thrusts before the man abruptly pulls out. Casey is still trying to catch his breath after the absurd amount of semen poured down his throat when the three men grab him—fistfulls of skirt, shirt, arm, thigh—and lift him up into a roughly standing position.

Casey’s legs are too wobbly to support him, but it hardly matters as the men half-carry, half-drag him down into the main area of the living-room, towards the couch. Marcus has to get up and move over as the man who was fucking Casey before, cock still glistening, lies down on his back on armless side of the couch, his legs spread and dangling over the edge, bent at the knee.

The men maneuver Casey into position sitting on top of the man, facing him. They spread his legs wide, knees on either side of the man’s hips, and slowly guide the man’s cock back up into Casey’s ass. Casey groans as his own weight impales him, speared, onto the phallus. Then he feels himself being pushed forward and down, his chest pushed flush against the man beneath him.

“That’ll do,” comes a voice from behind him, and he feels fingers slip around the edges of his stretched-wide asshole, teasing at the taught flesh.

Casey has never had two men fuck him at once. It hardly seems possible; he’s already so full. But it’s not like he hasn’t been fisted before—it can’t be much bigger than that, right?

The teasing fingers slide their way into him, rubbing the length of the cock already inside as they seek enough purchase to pull him impossibly further open. Then comes the familiar thick pressure of a cock-head nudging at his entrance, and the fingers start to work Casey’s sore and protesting hole further open, stretching him wide as the second cock slowly begins its awkward, ill-fitting intrusion.

Casey groans, low and long, as the second cock slides its way up into him. Once they get the head in, the fingers disappear, allowing for a long slow push that continues and continues until Casey once again has that choking feeling, like he can taste the men’s cocks in his throat.

They fuck him slowly, barely pulling out at all; seems like it’s difficult to coordinate the two cocks thrusting at the same time. It all feels like a single giant mass steadily rocking within him. From the way the men’s fingers are grabbing his hips and thighs, bruisingly tight, Casey figures this must feel pretty intense for them as well. The man whose face is in front of Casey is gritting his teeth, his eyes tightly shut.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” The third man, the one who Casey had blown earlier, is standing beside them and watching with a sick grin. “He’s a real cock-slut, huh?”

“Oh, he loves this shit,” Marcus says nonchalantly. Casey glances over; he hasn’t even looked up from his book. “Can’t get enough of it. Always begging the boys at school to split his asshole open, every day.”

It’s barely a lie, which is somehow more galling. Casey swallows desperately as the men behind him use their leverage on his hips to thrust Casey’s weight down onto their cocks as hard as they can.

Eventually, the man watching them gets turned on enough by the sight that he returns for another blowjob. He turns Casey’s head to the side and gives his mouth another chokingly-deep dicking, coming again before the two men in his ass are even finished.

The encounter lasts for hours. After their gasping climax up his anus, the two men behind retreat for a moment to catch their breath, letting the third get a turn in Casey’s ass. They go through quite a few permutations; Casey’s pretty sure they all come at least twice in both his mouth and his ass, not to mention the number of times they shove the vibrator back into his ass, sometimes accompanied by one of their own cocks, sometimes not.

Throughout the entire afternoon, Marcus shows very little interest in the proceedings. Eventually he puts down his book, but it’s only to go retrieve his laptop and start typing something. Maybe he’s doing homework.

By the time the three men have had their fill of fucking Casey’s various orifices, the sun has lowered nearly to the horizon and it’s almost dinner time. The three men thank Marcus heartily and make their way back up the stairs, laughing and joking amongst themselves.

Casey stays lying on the ottoman on his stomach a while longer, just recovering. He’d ended up back there as the most convenient and best-lit spot for fucking him from either end. His face, hair, and uniform are splattered with cum, and he can feel more of it leaking messily out of his obscenely-stretched asshole, dripping down his thighs. He tries to breathe evenly through his nose with deep breaths, ignoring his caged cock screaming at him for release, desperate to come.

“Go on, get cleaned up,” Marcus instructs. “Once you’re changed I’ll drive you home.”

Casey lies still a minute longer, just to spite Marcus, before limping his way over to the bathroom to wash off the cum.

Marcus does indeed drive Casey home. Casey wonders what Marcus told his mother about what they were all doing down in the den all afternoon. The room must have been pretty noise-proof for Casey’s groans and squeals to have not attracted suspicion. The boys say nothing to each other in the car, Casey shifting around uncomfortably the whole way, trying to find a position that doesn’t inflame his ridiculously sore ass.

When they finally park the car, Casey swings out with his backpack containing his soiled uniform, not even looking at Marcus as he jogs as fast as his wobbly legs will take him towards his front door.

“See you again soon!” the other boy calls as Casey disappears into the house.

Casey makes his way up to his bedroom with barely a grunt of acknowledgement for his mother, locking himself in as soon as he gets there. He drops his backpack on the floor and rummages around in it for the key to his cock-cage, his hard-on screaming at him in desperation.

He can’t find it.

Casey’s search becomes more and more frantic. He always puts the key in the same pocket every time, but it’s not there. He searches every square inch of the backpack, dumping everything out and shaking it upside-down with all the pockets open. Nothing. As Casey’s panic mounts, his phone suddenly buzzes with a text message. His grabs it and picks it up. His eyes widen in horror as a series of texts buzz in.

Casey sits back in shock. His asshole is on fire, crying from hours of steady penetration and abuse. His jaw is sore from working around a succession of cocks. And now he can’t even relieve the fierce desperation of his hard-on, horny as hell from the afternoon’s treatment.

Another message buzzes in.

There’s a picture attached. Casey feels sick, waiting for it to load. When it arrives, it’s worse than he’d feared. It’s the picture Marcus took of him on the ottoman, skirt lifted, his ass stuffed full with the vibrator. A trickle of lube can be seen leaking its way down in a shining trail from his asshole to the clearly caged cock nestled between his legs. You can only see a sliver of Casey’s profile in the picture, but it’s still clearly identifiable as him.

What’s even worse, however, are the words photoshopped onto the picture at the bottom. “All-you-can-fuck buffet, weekend special!” it proclaims in bright, cheery yellow letters. “Contact for info:” followed by Marcus’s phone number.

Casey shuts his phone off and drops his head into his hands. His sore ass and desperate cock throb in unison.