Ftm, Gang R@pe, Sports Camp
The team has accepted you for who you are, especially after finding out you're trans. Many said they couldn’t tell until you brought it up. Behind closed doors, you've been the guys' favourite topic. Of course, the only thing we discuss is whether your cunt could handle all of us taking a turn. See, even the straight guys on the team want to take you for a spin. The intrigue isn't about you being born female. We just realized how fun it would be to get a little boisterous with you. Bully your boycunt with each of our cocks. At the end of the day, you're one of the boys. We know you can handle a bit of harmless fun.
We decided that sports camp is the perfect opportunity. It’s great having you bunk with the boys, and you can barely hide your excitement about it. It’s been a couple of days, and you already feel so comfortable, walking around in boxers, chest exposed, just like the rest of us during the little downtime we get.
It's the final day, and despite our regular showers, the room smells like stale boy. Clothes are everywhere, and the banter is getting out of hand. But you're comfortable dishing out as much as you take. With tensions high, I decide it's the perfect moment to let the guys use you to wind down after a long week. “You're actually pretty tough for a guy with a pussy,” I joke to the room. You jump off the bunk, chest exposed to the room, and half-heartedly push me away. "Careful, don’t wanna get knocked out by a guy with a pussy," you respond confidently. I egg you on, and you step forward, unaware of what’s about to happen. You move in to shove me again, but I’m ready. I slip behind you, arm wrapped around your throat, bicep pressing just gently enough for you to get your words out. You can feel my cock pressing against your ass, positioned perfectly in the crease formed by your tight boxers. I feel you squirming and breathing heavily in my arms. The boys circle around like vultures eyeing their first meal in weeks. You go to murmur something, but I squeeze tighter, not letting the words escape. "It's just a bit of fun. Relax," you hear from across the room.
You feel even more hands begin to grab at you and whispers downplaying the situation. Unaware while in the growing state of panic you are startled by the feeling of 3 fingers violently exploring your cunts entrance, looking for a way to enter you. “Yooo, our guy here is so fucking wet.” You let out a moan, bracing yourself against me, digging your fingers into my thighs to manage the pain. Many fingers suddenly thrust in and out of you. You hear clothing being removed from the bodies around the room.
I throw you to the floor and sit over your chest, letting my dick and balls smother you. Pinned to the mattress there is nothing you can do. You feel your leaking opening being explored by more fingers than you can count. Then suddenly, the full thrusting force of a cock. One after another. The guys let their bodies take over. Fucking you raw. Using each load as further lubrication for another turn. You lose count of the loads dumped inside you after number 13. That’s fairly good counting for a dumb cock drunk sleeve. And, you never thought this would happen. How stupid are you?
Your eyes begin to roll and your body violently shakes from uncontrollable orgasms. I slide down and slip my cock straight into your abused dripping cunt. Holding you firmly by the neck, I enter you with a consistent hypnotic rhythm. “You're a man. You can take it!” I repeatedly remark. I grope at your chest and shove fingers down your throat. You tremble each time, cumming so often the contractions begin to hurt.
I remove my cock. Right before blowing my load. Practically passed out, you lay on the bed drenched in all the team's fluids. You mumble, “I need it. Please,” begging for my load. The final one. Of course, I’ll have you beg for it until the next time the boys need to destress.