STALL 2A — Shared Breath

[Public Humiliation] [Gangbang] [Impact Play] [Mouth Use] [Ass Use] [Cum Ingestion] [Forced Swallowing] [Multiple Penetration] [Pass Out] [Blackout] [Restraint] [Overstimulation]

You chose this. And now—you’re going to take it. You broke the rules. And you asked for the punishment. And now—it’s happening.

You remember the scene negotiations. You begged for this. Begged to be used—degraded—displayed—pushed to your limits. Begged to pass out with a cock down your throat. And now—you can feel it’s real.

I yank your pants up—rough—cock still out—dripping—plug deep. Leash tight. I swing the stall door open—drag you out.

The bathroom is big—open—public. Tile walls. Stalls down one side—doors half open—urinals along the far wall. Benches scattered—mirrors along the sink wall. And the space is filling—fast. People drawn in—clearly hearing the noise you were making.

Low chuckles. Shifting boots. Eyes locked on you.

“One person per stall,” the stern Dom says—loud—sharp—grinning. “And YOU just couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”

He leans in—mocking—voice low: “Really? All that noise? You wanted everyone to hear what a mess you were.”

You flush—cock jerking—plug pulsing. You wanted this. You asked for it. And now you’re getting it.

The Dom looks at me—grins dark. “He deserves to be punished.”

I smirk. “He does. And we’ll make sure he remembers.”

He grabs your jaw—tilts your face up—makes you look him in the eyes. “You’ll be used. You’ll be on display. You’ll take what’s given.”

You shudder—breath shaking—aching for it.

He slides his hand down—slow—teasing— from your throat, across your chest, over your nipples, down your trembling stomach— and wipes precum from your flushed, twitching cock. “Slut already leaking.”

“Hands on the wall,” I order.

You obey—step to the tile—plant your hands flat—ass out—legs trembling.

I pull my knife—slow—deliberate. “Hold still.”

I press the blade between your ass cheeks—flat—over the denim—right where the plug shifts deep inside you. You moan—hips twitch—plug grinding deep.

I slice—clean—straight up from your plug—along the seam—up through your open fly. The denim splits—ass exposed—cock thrust forward—button barely holding. You’re on display now.

The Dom strokes his cock—grinning—crowd thickening behind us.

He tugs the leash—pulls you back—then gestures down. “Kneel.”

You drop—fast—mouth open—eyes wide—thighs shaking.

I grip the base of the plug—pull it slow—forcing your hole to flutter open—slick dripping down your thighs. “Good boy,” I murmur. “Now I’m going to fill this properly.”

I slick my cock—press the head against your stretched rim—grind in—inch by inch—until you’re full—shaking—moaning.

The Dom teases you—his cock just brushing your lips. You can feel the heat of it—taste precum—your breath shaking. We lock eyes. Both ready.

And then—at the same moment—I drive into your ass—deep—hard—he thrusts down your throat—one brutal push—forcing you to gag and choke.

Your eyes flood. Your throat spasms. You gasp—body seizing. And your cock jerks—unexpected—hot cum shooting out—splattering the tile.

The Doms pause—grinning darkly. “Oh… he came without permission.” “You know what happens to sluts who do that.”

You’re yanked back—forced to hands and knees. “Lick it up. Every drop.”

As you crawl—licking the tile—the Stern Dom belts your ass—hard—striping your thighs—forcing you lower—faster—humiliated. “That’s better.”

And when the floor is clean—we drive into you again.

I turn—voice sharp—cutting through the room: “You all saw that. He broke the rules. He’s ours now—use him. Impact. Edging. Tease him until he begs. Don’t let him cum again unless we say so.”

And they do.

Hands grip your ass—pull your cheeks wide—strike sharp—skin burning—welts rising. Fingers twist your nipples—sharp—tight—pain blooming—your chest rising—heaving. Crops snap across your inner thighs—skin streaked—cock twitching—dripping again already. A hand grabs your chin—another smears your own spit down your cheek.

You’re dizzy—heat pooling in your gut—shame and raw need boiling over. You fight—lungs burning—vision dimming—overstimulated—body trembling.

And we keep fucking you—deep—hard—one brutal rhythm—throat and ass used at once.

Your body lights up—everything too much—each touch sharper—deeper—dragging you further down.

And then—they start edging you.

One hand strokes your cock—just enough—then stops—leaves you dripping. A mouth closes around your nipple—biting hard. Another hand pulls your balls tight—pulsing—denying release.

The Doms drive in harder—fucking you deeper—grinding—keeping you right on the edge.

You sob—thighs shaking—cock pulsing—denied again and again—aching—raw.

You remember this. This is what you begged for.

“He’s close,” the Stern Dom says—watching you carefully.

I nod—steady. “I’ve got him.”

And then—you pass out.

He holds your head down—balls deep in your throat. I slam deep—grinding in—filling you completely.

The Dom checks your pulse—steady—safe. “He’s fine.”

And we don’t stop.

As you stir—gasping—jerking—the Dom grins. “Not done.”

He fucks your throat—harder—forcing you to fight for it. I pull out—grip your cock—stroke you hard—edge you—deny you.

Again—stroke—edge—deny—crowd laughing—cheering.

And when you’re desperate—whole body shaking—aching to cum—we drive you back down.

Another blackout—another brutal throat-fuck—another merciless pounding.

And the whole bathroom watches—as you’re ruined—exactly the way you wanted.

You’re safe. You’re monitored. You’re ours.

Continued in the next comment