#gangbag

[puppyboiisgay]

2nd born who is conditioned to be the family's sex toy

Dad wants a Fleshlight? 2nd born takes it without complaint

Youngest brother wants to learn how to ride cock? 2nd born gets no choice and can't cum till his brother does

Big bro want to impress some friends or a girl? Face fucks his lil bro and lets his friends use the other parts

[obsession4uu]

Male-Dominated Field

CW: m!yandere, m!yandere, & m!yandere x f!reader, dead dove do not eat, noncon, unprotected sex, creampie, dp, tp, airtight, anal, group sex, oral (m! & f!receiving), hair pulling, vibrator, breathplay, psychological, physical violence, university setting, degradation, degrading praise Word Count: 5.6k

From a young age, you dreamed of working in game development. Your older brother introduced you to coding when you were little, and ever since then, you’d been obsessed with learning everything you could, hoping one day you’d create games like the ones you grew up playing.

What you didn’t realize back then was how difficult it would be to enter such a male-dominated field.

Raised by a single father alongside your brother, you compensated for the lack of feminine influence in your life by embracing all things girly. Your wardrobe overflowed with romantic colours, floral prints, fluttery blouses, dresses, and short skirts. Even so, you’d always felt comfortable in male-heavy spaces. You were a gamer, sporty growing up, used to rough humour and loud conversations.

Still, comfort wasn’t the same thing as belonging.

Eventually, you started craving the softness of female friendship. The intimacy of it. The understanding.

Then again, if that was what you wanted, maybe computer science had been the wrong choice.

“Alright everyone,” Professor Perez said, glancing up from the laptop on his lectern. “Throughout the semester, you’ll be working in groups of three-four to create an animation demonstrating your understanding of the programming concepts we cover in class.”

Groans and shifting backpacks rippled through the lecture hall.

“There will be multiple submissions,” he continued, “including early builds, testing documentation, debugging reports, and your final implementation. Choose your groups wisely and email them to me by the end of the week.”

He clapped his hands once, finished with his course debrief and effectively dismissed us.

Around you, chairs scraped against the floor as people immediately turned toward familiar faces. Conversations overlapped. Groups formed effortlessly, like everyone already knew where they belonged.

You looked around the room. You didn’t recognize anyone.

That was when the boy sitting in front of you turned in his seat. He was already looking at you.

“Do you have a group yet?” he asked casually, like the two of you had already been talking.

You blinked. “No. Not yet.”

He smiled immediately, almost like he’d expected that answer. “Join ours.”

It wasn’t really a question.

That was how you met Ayaan, Ezana, and Jaime.

At first, they seemed like any other group of guy friends. Loud. Competitive. Borderline insufferable.

Some work sessions felt less like collaborating with classmates and more like babysitting overgrown children. Still, you stayed.

Groups like this were temporary by design. Four months, maybe less if everyone did their part. And despite the friction, you worked well together, like the group somehow functioned better under the tension.

As deadlines approached, they’d finally settle down enough to focus. When your first submission’s grade came back as a ninety-five, all the irritation suddenly felt worth it.

Slowly, you got used to them. And if you were being honest, it felt nice not to be alone in such an isolating program. So when they started inviting you to hang out outside of class, you said yes.

Most nights were spent crowded around someone’s console setup— grinding ranked games, arguing over roguelike builds, or letting them lose to you repeatedly in battle royales.

Somewhere along the way, you stopped feeling like the girl in the group. You became one of them.

Maybe too much so.

“Ugh! Put on a shirt!” you shouted, throwing a pillow at Ezana’s bare torso. 

He caught it lazily. “Why? It’s just us.”

You shifted on the couch, fixing your hair before glaring at him pointedly while trying very hard not to look below his face. Beside you, Jaime took a sip of beer before belching loudly enough to shake the coffee table.

“Gross, Jaime. Do you have to do that?”

He grinned shamelessly. “What? It’s a natural bodily function.”

On the TV, a boxer’s jab-cross combo replayed dramatically in slow motion.

Ezana dropped onto the couch beside you, his dreads flopping with the movement. His wide frame forces you further into Jaime’s side. The rough hair on his arm scratched against your soft skin and irritation immediately prickled through you.

None of them understood personal space. Or maybe they just didn’t care.

Your skirt had started riding dangerously high from being squished between them, and you awkwardly tugged the hem back down. Ezana noticed instantly.

“Oh my God,” he laughed. “My date last night wore that exact skirt.” You froze.

“She was probably the hottest girl I’ve ever hooked up with,” he continued casually. “Every guy in the club was staring at her tits. Honestly? I couldn’t even blame them.”

Disgust twisted across your face. Why was he telling you this? Did he forget you were a girl too?

“Pics or it didn’t happen,” Ayaan said as he walked out from his room. Ezana immediately pulled out his phone while Jaime practically launched himself forward in excitement.

“YES! Fuck yes, I’m gonna be a millionaire. Pizza’s on me tonight!”

Jaime’s elbow knocked your arm hard enough to send your phone skidding beneath the couch, stopping near Ayaan’s feet.

You sighed sharply. “Could you grab that for me?”

Ayaan glanced down at the phone. Then back at you.

“Don’t you have hands too?”

You looked down at your skirt. Cute for campus. Not practical for crawling around on the floor in front of three men.

Whatever.

You crouched carefully, one hand holding your skirt in place while the other searched blindly beneath the couch cushions. Dust clung to your fingertips before you finally grabbed your phone.

When you stood again, adjusting your clothes, you noticed the room had gone strangely quiet.

Ezana’s phone still hung loosely in his hand. Jaime wasn’t talking. Ayaan was staring.

Heat flashed across your face. Did your skirt ride up? Embarrassment quickly curdled into annoyance.

Why hadn’t Ayaan just picked up the phone for you? You’d seen him do bigger favours for random girls all the time. What was his problem?

“You guys are seriously rude to me,” you snapped. “I know we’re friends and all, but I’m still a girl, you know.” 

You hoped your irritation masked the flush creeping up your neck.

Ayaan tilted his head slightly, studying you.

“Is that so?”

Something about the way he said it made your stomach tighten.

“Yeah,” you shot back. “It is. Put on a shirt. Stop acting gross. Treat me like a girl for once.”

You pointed accusingly at Ezana and Jaime. Jaime immediately raised his hands. “Sorry, mom,” he joked, but his eyes lingered on you a second too long.

Ezana, however, only smiled.

Slowly.

“Treat you like a girl?” he repeated.

Then he looked toward Ayaan.

The two exchanged a glance you couldn’t quite decipher, but something about it made your skin prickle.

Ayaan’s mouth curved into the faintest smirk.

A chill crawled down your spine.

Suddenly, the room didn’t feel nearly as harmless as it had before.

You gathered your things soon after that, eager to leave before the strange tension thickening the room could settle any deeper.

By then, the semester was nearing its end, and your group had begun cramming in extra work sessions several times a week to finish the project.

The library study room smelled faintly of dry-erase markers and burnt coffee. Rain tapped softly against the windows while three of you sat crowded around a table littered with laptops, charger cables, and empty snack wrappers. Ezana was gone for a basketball destressor event. Final exam season had reduced everyone to varying levels of stress and sleep deprivation.

You stared at your screen hard enough for the text to blur.

while(choice != "quit")

The loop should have been working. Instead, the program ran forever no matter what input you gave it. You rubbed your eyes and tried again.

Still nothing.

Beside you, Ayaan glanced over from his laptop.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s stuck in the loop,” you muttered. He rolled his chair closer without asking. “Let me see.”

“I’ve got it.”

“Mhm.”

The sound alone irritated you. You quickly edited the line yourself:

while(choice == "quit")

You ran the program again. Immediate termination. Wrong again.

Ayaan leaned back in his chair with a sigh dramatic enough to deserve an audience. “You can’t compare strings like that.”

Your fingers paused over the keyboard. 

“I know that.”

“Clearly not.”

Heat crept into your face instantly. Across the table, Jaime looked up from his phone, sensing tension the way sharks sensed blood in water. He’d become a big watcher these days, urging on conflict with no actual skin in the game, like it was another boxing match he was viewing from the TV.

Ayaan pointed toward your screen. “== compares object references, not string values.” His voice had shifted into something painfully patient. Like a teaching assistant explaining basic arithmetic to a struggling child.

“You need .equals().”

You inhaled slowly through your nose. “I was about to do that.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I literally just said I knew.”

Ayaan tilted his head slightly, loose curls falling over his eyes. “Then why’d you write it wrong twice?”

Jaime let out a sharp laugh before disguising it as a cough. You shot him a glare.

Ayaan had fully abandoned his own work now, turning toward you completely with one arm draped over the back of his chair.

“The issue,” he continued, “is that you code based on intuition instead of understanding how Java actually handles memory allocation.”

You stared at him.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“That is the most condescending sentence I’ve ever heard.”

He frowned faintly, looking genuinely confused. “How is that condescending?”

“You always do this thing where you mansplain everything like you’re delivering a TED Talk.”

“I’m explaining why your code doesn’t work,” he replied calmly.

Then, without waiting for permission, he leaned over you and typed:

while(!choice.equals("quit"))

“Run it now.”

You hesitated before pressing enter. The program worked instantly. 

Jaime slapped the table dramatically. “Ladies and gentlemen, sexism has been resolved.”

“Shut up,” both you and Ayaan said at the same time. That only made Jaime laugh harder.

“So many buttons to push, so little time~" he sings like a horror villain.

You leaned back in your chair with a sharp exhale, crossing your arms. “I didn’t ask for a lecture,” you muttered. “I let you solve your own problems. Why can’t you let me solve mine?”

Ayaan’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“You’re the one who asked to be treated like a girl,” he said evenly. “I’m just delivering on it.”

“I said treat me like a girl, not an idiot.”

Your voice came out sharper than intended as you clicked absentmindedly through the animation running on your screen. A pixelated bunny hopped forward before getting shredded apart in a trap, blood splattering across the monitor in exaggerated little sprites.

Ayaan followed your gaze.

“That bunny’s pretty dumb,” he observed.

You frowned. “What?”

His eyes flicked back toward you. “Maybe you should’ve asked us to treat you like the bunny instead. Seems more fitting.” Something cold flashed behind his expression.

Not a joke. Not entirely. The chill that ran through you this time lingered much longer.

The campus track was nearly empty at this hour.

A pale morning haze still clung to the field, softening the floodlights that buzzed faintly overhead. The air smelled like damp pavement and cut grass, cool enough to sting your lungs each time you inhaled.

You preferred it this way. Quiet.

No crowded hallways. No noisy lecture halls. No group chats blowing up before eight in the morning. Just the rhythmic slap of your running shoes against the track and the steady pulse of music humming through your earbuds.

Sweat clung damply to the back of your neck by your sixth lap. Your white shirt had started sticking to your skin, especially around your chest and stomach, and you reached up to wipe your forehead with the back of your wrist.

You were midway through another lap when two familiar figures appeared near the entrance gate.

Even from a distance, they were unmistakable.

Ezana jogged with easy confidence, sleeveless hoodie hanging open and headphones resting around his neck instead of actually being used. Beside him, Jaime looked only half-awake.

You slowed slightly.

Unfortunately, they spotted you immediately.

“Well, well,” Jaime called out as you approached. “You’re on your training arc, huh?”

You pulled one earbud out. “It’s six in the morning. Why are you talking so loud?”

“Because Ezana ignored me for twenty straight minutes,” Jaime complained. “Apparently jogging is ‘serious business.’”

“It is serious business,” Ezana replied flatly. “You sound like you’ve smoked a pack a day for the last 16 years after just 5 minutes of cardio.”

Jaime gasped dramatically. “And you say you love me?”

You laughed despite yourself, slowing to a walk as they fell into step beside you. Ezana glanced over briefly. “How long have you been here?”

“About forty minutes.” Jaime stared at you in horror. “Forty minutes? Voluntarily?”

“I like running.”

“You frighten me.”

The three of you continued around the curve of the track together. Your pulse was still elevated from the run, warmth radiating off your skin while the cool morning air hit damp patches of sweat across your body.

Jaime noticed first. 

“Oh my God,” he said, pointing at you. “You’re so sweaty.”

You looked at him incredulously. “I was running.”

Ezana snorted quietly beside him.

Jaime shook his water bottle lazily. “Here. Cool off.”

Before you could react, he squeezed the bottle toward you teasingly, clearly intending to spray a small stream of water your way.

Instead, the cap exploded clean off.

“WAIT—”

A freezing wave of water blasted directly into your chest.

You gasped sharply as icy water drenched the front of your shirt in seconds. The thin white fabric clung instantly to your skin, turning nearly transparent.

For one stunned second, nobody moved. Jaime stared, an undiscernible glint in his eyes.

Then his jaw dropped dramatically.

“Oh my God.”

You crossed your arms over yourself immediately. “JAIME!”

“I DIDN’T MEAN— THE CAP CAME OFF!”

“You idiot!”

He doubled over laughing anyway with something almost maniacal in it. “I swear, I didn’t mean to.” he said with a sharp grin and sparkling eyes.

Jaime’s watchful gaze shifted to Ezana, who had gone unusually quiet.

You looked up just in time to catch his eyes flick downward before snapping back to your face. The movement was quick, almost restrained, but heat still rushed into your cheeks instantly.

Your soaked shirt clung humiliatingly to every curve of your body.

Jaime was still wheezing. “I’m so sorry—” “You’re buying me coffee.” you declared.

“Oh c’mon! It was an honest mistake.”

You glared at him.

“Right. Yes. Obviously.”

Ezana finally pulled off his hoodie and handed it toward you without a word. The gesture caught you off guard. For once, there wasn’t a joke attached.

You hesitated before taking it carefully and pulling it over yourself, grateful for the thick dark fabric hiding the damp shirt underneath.

“Thanks.” you mumbled.

Ezana shrugged, but his expression remained unreadable. You noticed the growing bulge in his thin athletic shorts but shoved the thought out of your mind.

Jaime, unfortunately, recovered enough to grin again.

“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “if this were an anime, this would definitely awaken something in the male leads.” 

You threw the empty water bottle cap at his head.

The day you submitted your final animation arrived faster than expected. One moment you were drowning in deadlines, and the next, it was over. For the first time in weeks, your mind felt quiet. No assignments lurking in the back of your thoughts. No guilt about unfinished work. Just relief.

“We should celebrate tonight,” Ayaan had said earlier that day while the four of you walked across campus. “Come over. We’ll play games and order pizza.”

You snorted. “You mean the exact same thing we always do at your place?”

“Yeah,” Jaime replied immediately, throwing an arm around Ezana’s shoulders, “but tonight it’s celebratory pizza and games.”

By the time your last class ended, you found yourself heading toward their rental house almost automatically.

Ezana opened the door before you could even knock. “You’re finally here,” he said with a grin, stepping aside to let you in. “Come on, come on.”

He ushered you into the living room you’d spent countless nights in before, but something immediately felt different.

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

No video game sound effects buzzing from the television. No sports match blaring in the background. No overlapping arguments about takeout orders or whose turn it was to pick the next game.

Just silence hanging thick in the air. Your steps slowed instinctively.

Ayaan stood near the hallway leading to the bedrooms, one shoulder resting against the wall, his expression unreadable as always. Jaime sat on the armchair, fidgeting with restless energy.

The moment you entered, all of their attention shifted toward you at once.

Jaime’s grin stretched impossibly wide, brighter and more excited than you’d ever seen before.

Cold unease washed over you. Ayaan said nothing. He only watched you.

“Finally!” Jaime shot up from the armchair so quickly it nearly tipped backward.

Before you could react, Ezana’s hands closed around your arms, steering—almost shoving—you toward the seat Jaime had just vacated.

You stumbled into it with a nervous laugh. “Okay… what’s going on?” Your eyes flicked between them. “Where’s the pizza and games?” The question sounded painfully naive against the tension filling the room.

Ezana’s grip shifted from your arms to your shoulders, heavy and firm enough to keep you seated. Something about the pressure made your stomach tighten. Across the room, Jaime disappeared briefly down the hallway toward his bedroom.

Ayaan, meanwhile, began walking toward you slowly. Deliberately. Something about the way he moved made your pulse spike.

“You wanted to be treated like a girl, right?” he asked.

Your brows pulled together immediately. The question felt wrong somehow, like there was an answer he wanted from you specifically. Still, you nodded cautiously. “Yeah. I do.”

Your gaze dropped instinctively to your outfit: a plaid pleated skirt, lace-trimmed camisole, soft makeup carefully done before class.

What was so wrong with wanting to feel feminine?

Ayaan laughed quietly. The sound was low and sharp enough to make heat crawl up the back of your neck.

“Poor dumb bunny,” he murmured.

You stared at him. “What are you calling m—”

The words died in your throat.

A sudden metallic clank echoed from behind you.

You turned sharply toward the sound just as Jaime stepped back into the room, holding his laptop and an adjustable pole that’s connected to a…

You blink, that can’t be right.

At the end of it is unmistakably a wand vibrator. Your heart jumps to your throat, shaking your head to try and fight off your racing thoughts. Behind you, Ezana is chuckling before he leans down to whisper in your ear. 

“Wish you wore the other skirt today, you know, the ruffly one? Been thinking about fucking you in it for weeks now.”

Your chest is thumping painfully, what the fuck does he mean by that?

Your body reacts before your mind can catch up, and you lurch to your feet but Ezana’s hands are quicker to push you back down. “Ah-ah-ah,” he said, wagging a finger. “Not so fast.”

“Can you guys hurry up? My dick feels like it’s going to explode if I don’t fuck her now,” Jaime whines. Sweet Jaime, jokester of the group Jaime, the one who always made you laugh, the one who introduced you to the wolves circling you right now.

Opening up his laptop to a coding program. Ayaan joins him, scanning over his laptop screen before turning back to you.

“Maybe you’ll recognize this line,” he gestures to you on the screen. 

while(!choice.equals("volume ≥ 20%"))

Volume?

Ayaan notices your unspoken question and smoothly complies.

“As long as your volume doesn’t exceed 20%, the vibrator stays off. But the louder you get, the worse it’ll be for you.” He watches you with sick satisfaction as you face morphs into horror.

Using the bricks of your childhood dreams against you. These depraved fuckers really coded this just to torture you? If you weren’t currently in your position, you’d laugh at the audacity.

You're heaving with deep breaths, trying anything to calm yourself but no amount of air is enough.

“Why are you guys doing this? I thought we were friends.” Your eyes are begging, hoping that there's some shred of humanity in any of these three that will save you from your cruel fate.

“Yeah, that’s right, isn’t it? It’s funny because when I first saw you, I thought you were too pretty to be in our lecture. All smooth skin and soft curves; and so innocent— you didn’t even know the view we were getting of your panties up your skirt.” Ayaan laughs softly to himself at the memory. 

“It was so perfect, you, the lost puppy, begging for a group to take you in. Us, your knights in shining armour. We figured you’d make a good fucktoy to relieve stress while we did all the work, of course. But you surprised us, y’know? You were relentless with your work ethic. I actually began to respect you.”

“But you didn’t actually want that, did you?” Ezana continues, voice rumbling behind you. “Pretty things like you don’t want to be respected, you want to be a sweet pussy for us to put our dicks in. A tight throat to swallow all our cum.” 

“I hate to say I told you so, but I did tell you so.” Jaime interjects. “I mean, I do us all a favour and invite the pretty girl to our group, but then suddenly, everyone wants to be a gentleman? Unbelievable. Who knew all it would take was a shove and short skirt to change their minds, amirite?”

“‘Treat me like a girl’’ He mocked with a manic laugh, emulating your voice from that night. Your hands were shaking by your sides— from anger, from fear, from humiliation. 

“You know what I meant!” you shout, unrestrained frustration flowing through you. “Oh, but do we?” Ayaan quickly replies, tilting his head, daring you to challenge him.

Ezana’s hand slides to your throat, putting light pressure on it. You can’t bring yourself to fight Ayaan’s words, not when you’re at their mercy like this.

Ayaan smiles devilishly, “that’s what I thought.” Leaning back against the table holding Jaime’s laptop.

In front of you, Jaime bends down to meet your thighs. You push them together as hard as you can, but he pries them open easily, muscle rippling through his toned arms. He beams a toothy grin at you before bowing his head down. 

Soft lips touch the skin of your inner thigh. They leave wet sloppy kisses as they travel upward, you hear him breathing in deeply, savouring the moment. “You’re a fucking pervert.” you grind out, jaw clenched in restraint, hoping to strike a nerve. Jaime just smiles again at you, resting his head on your thigh while one hand massages and caresses the other. 

“Guilty~” he sings. The whole situation made you dizzy, but you especially didn’t expect this. Jaime lusting after you so shamelessly? You always felt like he was your rambunctious little brother, seeing the way he’s now squeezing the plush of your thighs makes your stomach churn.

Ezana’s hands snake around your waist, moving up to cup your breasts and massage in tandem with Jaime. Your breath hitches as he dives under your camisole, shuffling your top down so that it only covers your midriff and leaves your chest bare. He lays a kiss on the top of your head, more tender than you’d expect from the ladies man.

He begins pinching and rolling your nipples between his forefinger and thumb then dips his head. Placing a soft kiss that bobs your head to the side, he continues his way down your jaw and to your neck. Ezana’s movements are sensual, almost romantic. This disturbed you to think he would kiss you like you were lovers. 

Jaime pulls your hips forward, sliding your panties off while leaving your skirt untouched. His mouth is immediately on your clit, no warnings. He’s lapping at you like this is all for his own satisfaction rather than your pleasure. 

You cry out from the spike of sensation, gripping the armrests hard. 

“Ou, we should hook her up now, look at all that wasted noise she’s making.” Ayaan says. You look over at him, how his arms cross so assertively, he’s watching them play with you like he’s above all of this.

Between your thighs, Jaime grunts as his fingers dig into your thighs, dimpling the flesh. You whimper, scared of the near future and already overwhelmed with the furious licks Jaime is forcing onto you.

He finishes with one final suck on your clit, grazing his teeth against it before he straightens out. His mouth and chin are glistening but he licks his lips and wipes off the excess like a rabid dog. 

Jaime then guides you up, spinning you around and pushing you to kneel propped up against the chair. He grabs the vibrator and adjusts the pole until it’s perfectly pushing into your clit. A small noise slips out from just that alone, tears running down your face as sobs rack through you. Ezana clips a small mic onto your useless top before switching with Jaime behind you. 

Ayaan finally decides to join, standing to face you wordlessly. He grabs your jaw to force your eyes directly at his.

Ezana sticks two fingers in you, pumping more quickly than you expect. You cry out and the vibrator whirs to life against you. You try to close your legs but it doesn’t stop the access the machine has to your clit. If anything, your clenched thighs make everything feel 10 x more tight and stimulating. At least for now, the toy is barely noticeable.

Ezana continues working his fingers into you, slower now that the vibrator’s been turned on. He scissors his fingers inside you, twisting them around like he’s mixing up your insides.

You sob again and the vibrator gets a little bit stronger, forcing another strangled noise from you. You bite down on your lip until you taste blood, but anything’s okay if it stops the vibrations from getting worse.

Ayaan takes notice and brushes his thumb against your bottom lip. 

“Open.”

You try to protest, holding onto your last defences, but all it takes is one tilt of his head.

'I dare you,' it reads, and you relinquish.

Obeying with defeat as his thumb pushes in. He plays with your tongue before pressing it down, leaving your mouth open and making it difficult to block the noises you desperately want to cease.

Suddenly, the sound of unzipping pants and belt buckle clanking rings out from where Ezana stands. You feel his hand steady himself on your lower back while gathering up your slick with his tip. You squeeze your eyes closed, hoping to escape from this nightmare.

There was no way out physically; no chance against these three men. You couldn’t even plead with them, unless you wanted the vibrator to turn your sentences incoherent. But maybe, you could mentally pretend you were somewhere else. Anywhere else but here.

Ayaan slaps your face hard, sending your head to the side where you can see Jaime watching from the couch, dick in hand, stroking slowly and lazily. 

“Where do you think you're going, sweet bunny?” Ayaan asks. You don't even get the chance to respond when you feel the pressure of Ezana pushing into your cunt. He’s slow, working back and forth until he bottoms out. Electricity runs up your spine and you hate how good it feels. His passionate thrusts and the hum of the vibrator making everything warm inside you.

You can’t stop the whimper which escapes and the vibrator’s power strikes up again. Ezana’s dick twitches at that noise as he begins thrusting harder. Moans spill out of you before you can catch them, a pressure already building in your core from all the touching and licking, and squeezing from before. You shake your head, trying to fight back, but the vibrator keeps getting stronger and each thrust is grinding your clit against it. 

Drool is dripping down your chin while Ayaan keeps your gaze on him. His face says it all, you were never going to be able to stop this. An orgasm rips through you, making you clench and shake around Ezana’s dick. 

He pulls out with a wet schluk and the vibrator is turned off by Jaime, still stroking his erection. 

Your legs feel like jelly and you collapse as they take away the vibrator. You can feel your clit still pulsating from the onslaught it just endured. “What’re you doing?” Ayaan questions, “we’re not done yet.”

“But—” you start.

“But what? I still haven’t even cum yet. Not my fault you can’t last.” Ayaan effectively shuts you up. Ezana's using your slick as lubrication to continue pumping his dick.

“Tsk, what a useless fucktoy.” Ezana reprimands. It stings more after the passionate sex he'd just delivered.

You’d cry more if you didn’t feel so overwhelmed. Instead, you let Ezana lift you up before sliding you back down on his lap. You’re so sensitive, just him entering again is sending shockwaves throughout your body. He bounces you twice up and down before stopping.

You look around at them, worried for their next move. “Now that we don’t need your noises, we should do something about that mouth of yours.” Ayaan taunts close to your face. “But what do I know? I’m just a sexist mansplainer who can’t mind his own business.” You regret those words, you regret ever agreeing to be in a group with them, regret ever even joining this Godforsaken program.

Ayaan's dick, free from his pants, is shoved into your mouth in an instant. You feel Jaime, now near again, gather up the hair from your scalp before wielding it like a handle. He shoves your head as far as you can go down Ayaan’s thick length. You choke and tears prick your eyes from the lack of air. Noises are only coming out of you as you push against Ayaan’s hips, trying to find any relief.

Below you, Ezana is kneading your cheeks, delivering soft spanks now and then before soothing it after.

In one quick move you’re let off to breathe but only for a second, then, Jaime’s hand pushes you straight down again. Choking and pounding on his stomach, Ayaan only bucks his hips into you— fucking your face with slow controlled thrusts. 

You can feel Jaime watch intently as it disappears in and out of you. “My turn, please! I’ve been waiting for so long.” He whines, loosening his grip which you use to remove yourself immediately. Coughing and sputtering as you gulp in big breaths of air.

“Knock yourself out.” Ayaan says, his length wet and dripping with saliva.

Instead he moves around behind you, to your ass. You jump up in fear, Ezana pushes you back down. “No stop, this is too much. I’ve never— I don’t want to!” You plead with them, any of them. But all three pay you dust.

Ayaan is grinding his dick into the valley of your ass, groaning from the sensation of his tip dragging along it. He uses his hand to stretch the tight hole open while he continues rubbing himself against you. You feel his hips press to your ass, like he’s imagining all that length inside of you. 

Then in an excruciatingly painful entrance, he pushes in. Maybe the saliva had dried up, or maybe you were never going to be prepared enough for it, but it feels like he's ripping you in two. Both Ayaan and Ezana have the largest dicks you’ve ever seen, and the feeling of both of them in you, stretching you out, has you feeling like you’re getting torn apart. 

Ayaan is already thrusting hard, no regard to the hurt he’s causing you. You shift, trying to get away, but soon Ezana is thrusting into you too. “Does that hurt?” Ayaan asks you, confusing you as to why he’d worry for you.

You nod reluctantly, trying to hold onto your sanity as the two fill you more than you thought you ever could be. The burn of your sensitive clit is long forgotten with the overwhelming fullness they’re inflicting upon you. 

“Good, I love it when it hurts for them. This tight little hole wasn’t meant for something this big, huh?” He says, brushing the ring of muscle with his thumb. 

You’re shaking, but there’s no time to rest. Jaime is caressing your face. “Eyes on me now.” he commands. You whimper, not ready for the same roughness he inflicted when your mouth was on Ayaan. He bullies his cock into your mouth anyways, bruising the soft palette and slipping further into your throat. 

It’s all so much, being filled in every hole possible, all at once. You just came but you already feel another orgasm build up inside you. 

Squeezing down on them while thinking about how they’re thrusting into you anywhere they can. They couldn’t be bothered to take turns, they had to have you as soon as they could. 

“The pocket pussy is going to cum again, isn’t she? With 2 dicks rubbing inside her ass and pussy.” Ezana coos out. “Why bother asking? She can’t talk with a mouth full of cock.” Jaime says with a slight laugh, his voice is strained as he pistons into your mouth, hand tangled in your hair. 

“She’s too dumb to answer even with her mouth free. Cockdrunk slut.” Ayaan ends.

You cum hard, harder than you’ve ever cum before. How could you not? With all the touching, the sensation. All three of their tips dragging along your insides as they pummelled into you over and over again. 

The orgasm lasts so long that Ezana and Ayaan finish with you. One after the other, deep inside so that they fill you even when they’re gone. Ayaan fucks it deeper into you while Ezana plugs you, not letting a single bit drip out.

You’re moaning with no restraint but all of the sounds are muffled with Jaime in your mouth.

“Ah fuck, keep moaning like that. Such a good mouth on such dirty girl.” He grunts. His hips are stuttering, you know what’s going to come next. The taste of salt and bitterness paints your tongue as he thrusts all the way out and then all the way back into your throat. You don’t even get the chance to decide whether you want to swallow as he shoots everything straight down your esophagus. 

After a few more jerky thrusts, he pulls out of you with a wet pop.

You begin to cry, you feel like a little girl missing her mommy. Still sitting in his lap, stuffed with Ezana, he lets you cry into the crook of his neck, rubbing down your back soothingly. 

Your eyes peek up to watch Ayaan zip up his pants and buckle his belt. He looks like nothing happened, like they didn’t just ruin you.

“Poor bunny, never stood a chance.” he laughed softly. “It’s a man’s world after all.”

[rivvvvs]

To be violently gangbanged by a group of friends who saw me passing by and thought I was cute. They pull me off the street and before I know it I’m on full display in front of all of them. They take turns using all my holes, one has their fingers stuffed in my mouth and another is deep inside my wet boy pussy as a third is playing with my tight little ass hole. Being fucked like a useless little slut by a group of complete strangers all day and all night long.

[blonde-and-dangerous69]

Saturday 4th July 2026.

Wore this cute dress, ankle chain and heels to go and meet these four bad boys at a hotel in Reading. The dress didn't stay on long but managed to maintain the heels and ankle chain for some time!

We had a wonderful night the five of us. Every possible combination of BBC was sampled haha! They all had their one on one time with me but plenty of MMF spitroast type stuff and lots more. I think I swallowed too much cum because I was sick the morning after and it looked like lots of it came back up. I felt better than when I jumped in the big, rainfall shower and got banged in there by first one of the lads then another.

It was my first BBC gangbang for ages and I absolutely loved every second. I had so many orgasms and my pussy was all puffy and pink the next day.

[allice-ann]

I lowk wanna be passed around like a joint until I’m dripping with cum and left there when everyone’s done with me

[nolongerpostingsorry]

Nsfw

We have made it to day 31! Happy Halloween! Thank you all for reading along this month! What an adventure! This one gets pretty wild, I worked with my friend on it and she is wild…

Kinktober master list

Warnings: smut!! Multiple partners, overstimulation, rough, spanking, messy finishes, humiliation, degradation, possessive dirty talk, restraint, oral, other sexual acts.

Summary: It’s supposed to be just a party. The Agency and the Mafia under the same roof for one reckless Halloween night. But when Dazai unveils his secret game, you’re named the “sacrifice” of the evening. Each “trick” and “treat” dragging you deeper and deeper. And the worst part? You love every filthy second.

𖤐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆ 𖤐

The music thumped through the walls of the rented hall, lights shifting orange and violet across the vaulted ceiling. Pumpkins and fake cobwebs dressed the corners, while candy bowls spilled across tables that were already littered with abandoned plastic cups. Somehow—by some twisted miracle—the Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency had agreed to share the night under one roof.

Truce or not, the air carried its usual friction. Fukuzawa stood at one end of the room in a dark, formal, politely acknowledging Mori’s toast from across the floor. Executives and detectives alike brushed past each other. Uneasy handshakes, stiff smiles, muttered remarks smoothed over with alcohol.

But for everyone else, the party went on. Gin and Kyouka stood shoulder to shoulder by the dessert table, arguing over which candy was best while Kenji piled marshmallow ghosts onto his plate. Elise flitted from person to person, batting her lashes for sweets until even Atsushi caved and surrendered his lollipop. Somewhere near the dance floor, Yosano leaned across to pour Tachihara another drink, smiling too brightly for the setting.

It was surreal—worlds colliding, enemies mingling as though blood had never been spilled between them.

And in the middle of it all… was you. Your costume wasn’t the most extravagant, but it caught attention regardless. Maybe because of the way it hugged you, maybe because of the way you laughed when someone cracked a joke, maybe just because you were there, a piece of both worlds. And those eyes…

Dazai, sprawled across a couch like a lazy devil, bandages stark against black fabric. He twirled a piece of candy between his fingers, smirk curving whenever your gaze almost, but not quite, met his.

Chuuya, wine in hand, posture tense by the bar. He spoke to Kouyou, but his blue eyes cut toward you every time someone else leaned too close.

Ranpo, sprawled on the floor with a pile of candy wrappers, chin propped in his palm as though he was studying a puzzle. He never said a word, just stared with that knowing glint in his eyes.

Akutagawa, silent in the shadows near the door, black coat draped like a second skin. He didn’t drink, didn’t join in, just watched. His gaze sharp and hungry, as though he’d already decided you didn’t belong to yourself tonight.

You felt their stares burn into you no matter where you moved. The thought should’ve unnerved you, but with every stolen glance, your skin prickled hotter. The truce might have been for peace, but the way they looked at you… it promised anything but.

The night blurred with music, laughter, and clinking glasses until a familiar hand brushed yours. Bandaged fingers laced casually with your own, tugging just enough to break you from the conversation you were in.

You turned, finding Dazai standing far too close, grin sharp beneath the shadows of his mask. “Belladonna,” he drawled, voice smooth enough to cut through the noise of the party, “I’ve decided you’re much too distracted out here. How about a little game?”

Before you could answer, he was already tugging you toward the stairs, weaving effortlessly through the crowd. The music dulled as you reached the second floor, the party’s warmth fading into quieter shadows. Your heels clicked on polished wood, each step echoing the sound of your own pulse. “A game?” you repeated, breath uneven from the pace he set.

Dazai glanced back at you, grin widening. “Mm. A special one. You’ll love it.”

That tone—half promise, half threat—made your stomach tighten. At the end of the hall, he stopped before a door you hadn’t noticed earlier, painted black and marked with a paper cut-out jack-o’-lantern. He didn’t knock, didn’t hesitate, just pushed it open.

The room inside was dim, lit only by scattered candles and the amber glow of a lamp on the table. And around it, waiting, were the others. Chuuya leaned against the far wall, arms folded, expression unreadable. Ranpo sat perched on the table’s edge, swinging his legs lazily, a lollipop tucked in his cheek. And in the corner, Akutagawa stood like a shadow made flesh, pale eyes catching the faint light.

The silence was thick, electric. All of them looking at you. All of them waiting. Dazai stepped aside, gesturing you in with a theatrical sweep. “After you.”

Your pulse stuttered as you crossed the threshold, every pair of eyes following the movement. The door clicked shut behind you. The silence was heavy, so you let out a breath and broke it with a wry laugh. “Well,” you said, gesturing to your outfit, “guess I’m the only one who remembered it’s Halloween. Where’s your spirit? Too cool for costumes?”

Ranpo snorted, twirling his lollipop between his fingers. “Why dress up when the real treat walked in by herself?”

Chuuya’s lips twitched, almost a smile, almost a warning, but he didn’t say a word. Akutagawa’s stare didn’t waver, colder than the candlelight.

And then there was Dazai, still standing behind you, grin widening like a blade being unsheathed. He stepped closer, his bandaged hands settling on your shoulders, thumbs stroking lazily against the fabric of your costume. “Oh, belladonna,” he purred, “don’t worry about the lack of spirit. They’ve been saving it… for you.”

Your brow furrowed, about to ask what he meant, but he only guided you a step further into the room. That was when you noticed the bowl. Set squarely on the table, black ceramic painted with grinning jack-o’-lanterns, filled to the brim with folded slips of paper. “What is that?” you asked, though your pulse already quickened.

“A game,” Dazai said, voice sing-song. He circled you, slow, until he stood in front of the bowl. He plucked one slip from the top, turned it over in his hand without opening it, then let it fall back into place. “It’s called Trick or Treat Roulette.”

The words hung in the air, and you felt every pair of eyes sharpen on you.

“You’ll draw from the bowl,” Dazai continued, tone light but eyes dark. “Each slip says ‘trick’ or ‘treat.’ Whatever it says—you do. No questions. No excuses.” He leaned in, smile all teeth now. “Wouldn’t be Halloween without a sacrifice, right? And lucky you, everyone voted. The honor goes to you.”

Your breath caught. “Voted? You mean you all—”

“Unanimous,” Ranpo cut in, grin lazy as he crunched down on his candy.

Chuuya’s gaze burned into you as he added, voice low, “We’ve been waiting all night.”

And Akutagawa, quiet but certain, finally spoke: “So stop wasting time.”

The room seemed smaller with every breath, the bowl on the table glowing like some twisted altar. And Dazai, tilting his head as if savoring your expression, offered the first move with a dramatic flourish toward the slips. “Go on, belladonna,” he murmured. “Let’s see what Halloween has in store for you.”

It felt impossibly small in your hand, yet heavy with expectation. Unfolding it, your eyes caught the word written in bold: TRICK.

Your stomach dipped. “What is it?” Dazai asked sweetly, tilting his head as though he didn’t already know.

Your throat worked before you read it out loud. “Spanking: ten.”

Ranpo chuckled, sliding off the table to perch in a chair instead. “Starting soft. Cute.”

Chuuya’s lips quirked into something sharper than a smile as he straightened from the wall, whiskey glass abandoned. “I’ll take this one.”

You blinked. “You—?”

“Rules are rules,” Dazai cut in, grinning as he gestured you forward like a dealer laying down cards. “Our little sacrifice has to pay up.”

Chuuya’s boots clicked across the floor as he closed the distance, his gloved hand catching your wrist. “Bend over the table.” His tone left no room for argument.

The wood was cool under your palms as you leaned forward, your costume riding higher than you’d have liked. You heard the faint crack of his leather glove flexing, as his hand came down.

Smack.

The sound echoed in the candlelight, followed by the warmth blooming across your skin. “Count,” Chuuya ordered, voice low in your ear.

“One,” you breathed.

Dazai clapped slowly from behind, amusement dripping from every note. “Only nine more to go, belladonna. What a lucky start.”

Ranpo popped his lollipop back into his mouth, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Wonder if the next one will be sweeter.”

Akutagawa didn’t move, didn’t speak just watched. The corner of his mouth twitching as though he might actually be enjoying himself.

Smack. Harder this time. “Two.”

“Good girl,” Chuuya said, low and rough.

Dazai’s laugh floated from behind. “She sounds so sweet already. Careful, Chuuya, you’ll spoil her before the real fun.”

Ranpo leaned back in his chair, sucking on his lollipop with a grin. “Mm, I give it three more before she forgets how to count.”

Chuuya snorted. “Not a chance. She’s tougher than that.”

Smack. The third came quicker, heat layering over itself. “Three—ah.”

Akutagawa’s voice broke in, quiet but sharp. “Pathetic already.”

Chuuya’s palm landed again, firm and punishing. Smack. “Four!”

The wood of the table creaked under your grip. Your costume had ridden up, baring more with each strike, the sting spreading and settling deep. Smack. “Five,” you gasped, voice thinner now.

“That halfway burn,” Ranpo mused, eyes gleaming. “Best part.”

Chuuya pressed his palm firmly to the warmed skin, almost soothing before he lifted his hand again. Smack. “Six—ahh.”

Dazai leaned in over your shoulder, grin wide as he whispered, “Look at you. Halfway ruined already, belladonna.”

Smack. “Seven.” Your voice broke on the word, and Dazai chuckled, brushing his bandaged fingers down your spine.

Smack. “Eight!”

Chuuya’s breathing had grown heavier, his strikes precise, purposeful. “Just two more,” he murmured, close to your ear.

Smack. “Nine—”

Your knees wobbled, the sting turning sharp and hot, tears pricking at your eyes though your body trembled with something closer to need. Chuuya raised his hand one last time and brought it down harder than all the rest. Smack. “Ten!” Your voice cracked on the final number, chest heaving.

Chuuya’s hand lingered on your heated skin, squeezing almost possessively before he stepped back. “There.”

Ranpo clapped lazily. “She’s blushing through her costume. Adorable.”

Akutagawa’s eyes narrowed, lips curling faintly. “Pathetic… I bet she still wants more.”

Dazai’s hand found your chin, tilting your flushed face up to his. His grin was infuriatingly soft, almost affectionate. “One slip down, belladonna. And the night’s still young.” He released you, gesturing with exaggerated flourish toward the bowl once more. “Go on,” he sang. “Draw again. Let’s see if the fates are kinder… or crueller.”

You straightened slowly, the sting radiating hot through your skin. Your costume had ridden high—humiliatingly high—so you tugged it back down, hands smoothing over the fabric before you dared to rub your sore ass. The heat of it pulsed against your palms, betraying just how much it had gotten to you. Ranpo chuckled around his lollipop. “Trying to put the fire out? Cute. Doesn’t look very dignified from here.”

Chuuya smirked, lifting his glass again. “She won’t be sitting still for a while.”

Dazai, of course, only leaned against the table with that insufferable grin. “Oh, belladonna… still clinging to your pride. Let’s see how long that lasts.”

You glared at him but stepped toward the bowl again, fingers trembling as you picked another folded slip. This one felt lighter somehow. You opened it, breath catching at the word inside: TREAT. Your shoulders sagged with relief. “It’s… a treat,” you said.

Dazai’s eyes gleamed. “Ooh. Let’s hear it.”

You swallowed. “Candy.”

Ranpo perked up immediately, sliding off his chair. “That’s mine.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out another candy, twirling the stick between his fingers as he sauntered over. “Open up.”

Heat rose to your cheeks. “I can feed myself—”

“Nope,” Ranpo cut you off, grin sharp now. “That’s not how this works.” The lollipop pressed against your lips, sweet and sticky with cherry flavor. Reluctantly, you parted your mouth, letting him slide it past your tongue. “Good girl,” he cooed, stepping back just enough to watch you suck. “Don’t bite it. Slow. Make it last.”

The sugar melted over your tongue, sweet and almost cloying. You shifted, cheeks heating further as his gaze lingered, unblinking. “Adorable,” Ranpo said, voice low with amusement. “Like the perfect little party favor.”

Dazai leaned in close again, whispering just loud enough for the others to hear. “Mm. But doesn’t she look like she wants to suck on something else?”

Chuuya scoffed, but his eyes lingered hungrily. Even Akutagawa’s stare sharpened, unblinking, as though daring you to break under the weight of it. Ranpo tapped your lips lightly with the candy stick, forcing your mouth to open wider around it. “Better. Much better.”

The sweetness clung to your tongue, to your lips, and the way they all watched you made the simple “treat” feel dirtier than the trick before it.

Dazai clapped his hands once, grinning like the devil himself. “Perfect. One sweet, one sting. Now…” He gestured to the bowl again. “Shall we see what’s next?”

You licked the last of the lollipop sweetness from your lips before reaching back into the bowl. The slips rustled like secrets waiting to be spilled. Fingers trembling, you unfolded the next one. TREAT Relief bubbled out of you in a breath. “Another treat.”

Dazai leaned forward, grin curling. “Read it.”

Your eyes darted to the words scrawled in black ink. “Blindfold.”

Ranpo laughed around his candy stick. “Oh, that’s too easy.”

“Shouldn’t we start easy for her?” Dazai countered, already stepping closer. He pressed a finger under your chin, tilting your head back with mock-gentle pressure. “You’re going to be blindfolded sweetheart, but you have to guess who’s touching you. Or well…let’s hope you guess right.”

Your eyes widened. “That’s not what it says. It’s supposed to be a treat.”

“It’s what it means, and being blindfolded is a treat.” Chuuya cut in, already prowling forward.

Dazai’s grin only widened. “Belladonna, you didn’t think we’d waste a perfectly good treat, did you?”

The blindfold goes on. You feel a hand trail up your back, soft, teasing. “D-Dazai?” A sharp pinch to your nipple makes you squeak.

Before you could catch your breath, Ranpo spoke up “Mmh,” he hummed against your lips. “Your detective skills are lacking.”

Suddenly there’s a sharp smack to your ass. Then lips crushed against yours with a hunger that left you trembling, the scrape of his teeth sharp as he pulled away just as quickly. “Chuuya!” I mean he did just leave your ass throbbing.

Another sharp smack in the same spot left you crying out. “Should I be insulted?” Asked Akutagawa.

Before you can answer someone’s fingers slowly trailed to your aching heat. You whimper moving your hips, chasing the touch. Dazai is a tease, if he’s touching me he won’t commit. Is the last thought in your mind before a finger circles your clit. You gasp as they go under your dress, under your panties and dip to fingers in. You moan.

“Come on sugar, who is it?” Ranpo asks.

“Chuuya!” The fingers still and slowly pull out, before you feel a stinging slap to your pussy. You yelp. The blindfold is pulled off and your eyes focus on Dazai. Who is licking his fingers.

“You guessed me twice doll, you want me to touch you or something?” Your face burns and your eyes snap to Chuuya.

Dazai gestured toward the bowl again with a flourish. Your fingers hovered over the bowl again, and this time you hesitated. Heat still burned your cheeks, your body trembling from their attention, but frustration bubbled up alongside it. “This isn’t fair,” you muttered, glaring at Dazai. “I’m the only one who has to keep picking. And why do I have to be the sacrifice?”

For a moment, the room went still. Then Dazai laughed a soft, delighted sound that curled low in your stomach. “Ohhh, belladonna,” he crooned, stepping closer until his breath brushed your ear. “You’re right. It isn’t fair.” His hand snatched the bowl away, holding it easily out of your reach. “That’s why from now on… we’ll pick for you. As for being the sacrifice, we voted fair and square.”

The others shifted, their eyes gleaming with interest. Dazai rattled the slips, then extended the bowl toward Chuuya. “Care to do the honors?”

Chuuya didn’t hesitate. He plucked one slip out, unfolded it, and his smirk was instant. “Perfect. You’re getting your wish doll, I’ll gladly touch you.” He held it up, for you all to see: TRICK: Ten minutes of edging.

Your stomach dropped. “Wait ten minutes—”

Ranpo leaned back, amused. “She’ll never last that long.”

Akutagawa’s dark eyes sharpened, voice low and cutting. “She doesn’t deserve to.”

Dazai placed the bowl back on the table and leaned against it lazily, smirk still plastered across his face. “Well, belladonna? Ready to squirm for us?”

Chuuya shoved his sleeves to his elbows, stepping in close, voice low in your ear. “Ten minutes. You’re not cumming once. Understood?” You swallowed hard, nodding, but he smirked and pressed your chin up with two fingers. “Say it.”

“I… I won’t cum.”

“Good girl,” he murmured then shoved you back over the table, palms flat against the cool wood again.

Chuuya’s hand slid under your costume, fingers finding you embarrassingly wet. “Tch. Already ruined and we haven’t started.” His thumb pressed against your clit in steady, slow circles that had your knees trembling almost instantly.

Dazai leaned lazily against the table, watching with a grin. “Belladonna, you sound like you’re begging already.”

You whimpered, biting your lip as Chuuya deliberately slowed his pace just as you started to grind into his hand. “Ah-ah,” Chuuya scolded, pulling his fingers away. “You’ll wait.”

Three minutes in Ranpo piped up, hopping off his chair. “My turn.” He crouched between your legs without warning, replacing Chuuya’s hand with his tongue. The wet slide of him against your clit made your head spin. He sucked just hard enough to make your body jolt then pulled back, grinning up at you. “Tick… tock,” Ranpo teased. “Seven minutes left.”

About half way through Akutagawa finally moved, his presence sharp at your side. He seized your chin, forcing you to face him as his pale fingers pressed against your throat. Not enough to choke, but enough to control your breath. “You look pathetic,” he whispered coldly, even as his free hand slipped between your thighs to stroke you, fast, rough, efficient. Your body arched, heat flooding your veins, climax rushing too close—

And then he stopped. Just stopped. The absence made you sob out loud. Akutagawa’s lip curled. “Weak.”

Dazai finally stepped in with two minutes left, all faux-gentleness. He crouched behind you, pressing feather-light kisses up your trembling thighs, lips brushing maddeningly close but never where you needed him. “Mm, belladonna,” he sighed, warm breath against you. “So sensitive. So needy.” His bandaged fingers traced around your clit without ever touching it. “But you promised not to cum. Remember?” You whimpered, nails digging into the wood “Good girl,” he murmured, pulling back just before you could snap.

Chuuya returned for the finale, hand flat against your lower stomach as two fingers thrust into you, curling just right, fast, relentless. Your body shuddered, walls clenching down, orgasm tearing at the edges—

And then he froze. Stilled. “No—!” you cried out, desperate, broken. The room erupted in laughter and mocking commentary:

Ranpo, smirking. “Told you she wouldn’t last.”

Akutagawa, cold. “Pathetic.”

Dazai, sweet as poison. “Shh, belladonna. It’s only fair. The trick said ten minutes—not one second more.”

Chuuya finally pulled his fingers free, wiping them on your thigh as you collapsed against the table, trembling, soaked and unsatisfied. Your breath came in sharp, ragged gasps. Your body burned, but your release had been stolen yet again.

Dazai patted your head almost kindly, then pointed toward the bowl. “Well then. Onward, bella.”

Your legs were still trembling when Dazai plucked the bowl off the table and, without a word, held it out toward Akutagawa. The man didn’t hesitate. His pale fingers dipped into the slips and withdrew one. He unfolded it with sharp precision, eyes scanning the word. His lips curled faintly. “Trick,” he said flatly. “Spanking: twenty. Bare.”

Your heart slammed in your chest. “Wait—”

Akutagawa didn’t bother listening. His coat shifted around him like a predator’s shadow as he stepped forward, seizing your arm in an unyielding grip. He dragged you back over the table, your costume already tugged high, exposing the heated skin still burning from Chuuya’s punishment.

“Pathetic,” he muttered, voice sharp and cold. “You’re still dripping from being denied, and now you’ll be marked properly.” His palm cracked down without warning. Smack. You cried out, the sting biting deep over your already tender flesh.

“One,” you gasped.

Smack. Smack. Smack. Three in quick succession, harder than Chuuya’s, leaving you scrambling to keep count. “Two! Three—four!”

Ranpo leaned lazily against the wall, smirking around his lollipop. “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

Smack. The fifth landed sharp enough to make your knees buckle, but Akutagawa’s grip on your waist held you firmly in place. “Five,” you whimpered.

Dazai’s laugh lilted through the room, warm and cruel. “Bella, you’re going to lose your voice before the night’s over.”

The next strikes came faster, merciless. Smack. Smack. Smack. “Six—seven—eight!” Your voice cracked, body jerking against the table.

“Count louder,” Akutagawa snapped, hand coming down even harder. Smack.

“Nine!”

“Again.” Smack.

“Ten!”

Your cheeks burned as hot as your skin, humiliation dripping down your spine. You were shaking, half from pain, half from the desperate ache still unresolved in your core. Smack. Smack. Smack. Each one harsher than the last. “Eleven—twelve—thirteen!”

Chuuya’s voice was rough at your ear. “Keep count, or he’ll start over.”

Smack. “Fourteen!” Smack. Smack. “Fifteen—sixteen!” By the seventeenth, tears pricked at your eyes, the sting unbearable, your voice trembling. “Seventeen—eighteen—” Akutagawa didn’t slow. Smack. Smack. “Nineteen—twenty!” you sobbed, collapsing forward, forehead pressed to the table.

Silence stretched for a beat, broken only by your ragged breathing. Then Akutagawa’s voice, low and disdainful. “Pathetic. And yet… look how your body betrays you.”

Chuuya cursed under his breath. Ranpo laughed outright. Dazai’s grin cut sharp as a blade. “Poor bella,” he cooed. “So desperate, so undone…”

You pushed yourself upright, breath hitching. Your costume was half askew, so you tugged it down over your thighs, trying to cover the raw heat of your skin. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes as you rubbed your sore ass, the sting still radiating sharp and merciless. Your voice cracked when you spoke. “I—I don’t want to play anymore.”

The room went still. Then Ranpo’s laugh cut through the silence, light and sing-song. He popped the lollipop from his mouth with a wet click and grinned. “Too bad,” he said cheerfully, stepping forward. “It’s my turn.”

Dazai clapped his hands, delighted. “Oh, this should be fun.”

Ranpo dipped into the bowl with exaggerated flourish, pulling out a slip and unfolding it slowly, eyes flicking over the words before he hummed in approval. “Oh, perfect. A treat.”

You blinked, heart pounding. “A… treat?”

“Mmhm.” Ranpo’s grin widened. “Says here: oral.”

Relief rushed through you, too quick, too fragile, until his eyes gleamed with cruel humor. “But it doesn’t say who’s giving who oral, does it?”

Your stomach dropped. “But—”

“On your knees,” Ranpo said sweetly, pointing to the floor in front of him. “You want to stop playing? That’s adorable. But a sacrifice doesn’t get to walk away. Now be a good girl and open wide.” Your costume brushed the floor as you sank down, trembling, the humiliation burning hotter than your bruised skin. Ranpo popped the lollipop back into his mouth, tugged his zipper down casually, and guided your face closer with sticky fingers. “There we go,” he murmured, pressing the candy against your lips first. “Sweeten you up before the real treat.”

The sugar clung to your tongue, sharp and artificial, before he replaced it with himself. Thrusting shallowly, groaning at the heat of your mouth. “Mm, better than candy,” he sighed, hand tangling in your hair. His voice lifted playfully for the others. “See? She is the perfect party favor.”

Dazai chuckled low, lounging back. “Oh, belladonna. You thought ‘oral’ meant he’d be kind to you?”

Chuuya’s growl carried across the room. “Watch your teeth. And for fuck’s sake, breathe through your nose.”

Akutagawa’s voice cut in, quiet, cold. “Utterly pathetic. Look at her, still obeying.”

Your tears blurred everything, humiliation sinking deep as you worked your mouth around Ranpo, each wet sound and cough making your body tremble harder. Ranpo pulled back just enough to wipe the slick from your lips with his thumb, pushing it back between your lips. “Good girl. Sweet and messy. Just the way I like it.”

He popped the lollipop back into his own mouth with a smirk, leaving you kneeling, cheeks sticky, lips swollen, as Dazai plucked the bowl up once more spinning it lazily in his bandaged hands. Chuuya stalks toward it. He strode forward, plucked a slip from the bowl, and flicked it open. His smirk sharpened instantly. “Treat,” he read, his eyes glittering. “Kiss.”

Relief flickered over your face, but it died the second he grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze to his. “Not sweet ones,” he muttered. “You’re not getting gentle tonight.”

He pressed you back against the table. His mouth crashed into yours, hot and demanding, teeth catching your lower lip hard enough to sting. Your gasp was swallowed as he deepened the kiss, tongue rough, insistent, claiming every inch until you couldn’t breathe. His gloved hand slid down your side, gripping your hip possessively, pulling you flush against him.

Every kiss after was just as fierce down your jaw, over your throat, biting sharp at the hollow until you cried out. He marked his path with bruises, lips relentless, mouth open and wet against your skin. “Treat, huh?” Chuuya growled against your neck, sucking a mark deep enough to make you whimper. “Looks more like punishment to me.”

Ranpo laughed from his seat, voice muffled around his candy. “She’s not complaining.”

Akutagawa’s stare was steady, sharp. “Mark her until she remembers.”

By the time Chuuya pulled back, your lips were swollen, your neck mottled with bruises, your chest heaving. He smirked, thumb brushing possessively over the fresh mark at your throat. “Now,” he muttered, voice low and rough, “everyone who sees you will know exactly who touched you tonight.”

The slip fluttered from his hand to the floor, forgotten, as he guided you upright again. Shaking, breathless, marked, and waiting for whatever came next. You swayed, catching your breath, when the bowl was already in Dazai’s hands. “Ah, darling you’ll love this,” he crooned, eyes gleaming as he plucked a slip like it had been waiting just for him. He flicked it open with a dramatic flourish, grin widening. “Trick. Restraint.”

Your pulse stumbled. “Restraint?”

Dazai tilted his head, grin curling sharper. “Mmhm. And lucky me, I came prepared.” From beneath his coat, he pulled a roll of black silk ribbon, long and gleaming in the candlelight. He let it unfurl through his fingers, the fabric whispering against itself.

Ranpo let out a low whistle. “This is about to get good.”

Akutagawa’s gaze sharpened, silent approval flickering in his eyes.

“Hands,” Dazai said simply, stepping forward.

When you hesitated, Chuuya’s palm pressed at the small of your back. “Give them to him,” he muttered, low and firm.

Shaking, you lifted your wrists. Dazai hummed, he pressed you back over the table, arms pulled behind your back, the ribbon binding you in place. With every shallow breath, the silk pressed tighter, forcing your chest down against the cold wood.

“Look at her,” Ranpo teased, grinning wide. “Like a present waiting to be unwrapped.”

Dazai leaned low, bandaged fingers brushing down the back of your thigh, nails raking gently over heated skin. “Don’t worry, belladonna. I won’t unwrap you yet.” He tightened the ribbon another notch, enough to make your shoulders ache, then pressed a kiss, soft, mocking against the nape of your neck. “Happy Halloween,” he whispered. “Let’s see how much of you we can break before midnight.”

They tormented you for a few minutes. Pinching, grabbing, kissing, licking, all of it. Doing whatever they want while you’d helpless.

The room’s tension thickened Chuuya’s hands flexing like he was itching to grab you again, Ranpo’s grin sharpening, Akutagawa’s eyes burning. And you—bound, trembling, already ruined—were left to brace yourself for whatever ‘fate’ they drew next. Dazai fingers brushing down your bound spine. “ I think it’s time we stop pretending fate’s in charge.” He reached into the bowl one last time, eyes gleaming as he lifted a slip he’d clearly rigged beforehand. “Final trick,” he read aloud, his voice dropping low. “Share.”

Dazai moved before you could even steady yourself. He stepped in with the calm of someone who’d decided the next act His hand closed at the base of your spine and hauled you off the table; you stumbled, ribbon rasping, muscles still trembling. For a second panic flared, but his other hand was gentler as he reached for the knot at your wrists. Dazai’s mouth quirked; he untied the silk with practiced fingers and slid it free.

He didn’t stand you up. Instead he guided you down until your hands landed on the floor, palms splayed, knees parting beneath you. Dazai’s hands ghosted over your back, lingering at the swell of your hips. “On your hands and knees,” he instructed softly, tone flat and certain. “Perfect.”

He pushed you down so you were in that bowed position, exposed and steady. It kept you exactly where he wanted: head low, ass high, the line of your spine arched like a promise. You barely had time to breathe before Akutagawa moved. Silent, sharp, a shadow descending.

The candlelight painted everything in copper and shadow. He pressed one palm to the small of your back, then shifted to hook a finger beneath the your ruined costume, tugging the waistband of your panties down. So your ass was bare to the room. Red, shiny, the marks from earlier still pronounced. “Pathetic,” he muttered, his pale fingers seizing the front of your costume. With a single violent jerk, the fabric tore. The sound ripped through the room, as shocking as the cold air against your bare skin.

You gasped, shivering, instinctively trying to cover yourself. His hand caught your wrist, pinning it back against the floor. “Don’t hide. You agreed to this.” His voice was low, clinical, cutting into your trembling like a scalpel.

Your breath hitched but you nodded, shaky. Akutagawa spit onto his fingers. The crudeness of it made your face burn, but he didn’t hesitate. Two fingers pressed against your forbidden hole, pushing until you whined at the stretch. “Hold still.” The command was cold, flat. His fingers worked inside you with ruthless efficiency. curling, stretching, preparing. He wasn’t gentle, but he was deliberate, making sure you were ready even as his words stripped away dignity. “So needy, and you’ll take anything we give you.”

You moaned, shame mixing with heat, back arching as the unfamiliar fullness made your stomach clench. When his fingers withdrew, you almost cried at the loss. He slicked himself with the same spit, lined up, and pressed in. The stretch burned, sharp and unyielding but the way he filled you made your body sing. You groaned, shaking, pushing back despite yourself. “Filthy,” he hissed, hand pressing at the back of your neck to hold you down. “And you love it.”

And you did. Every cruel word only made the ache in your body bloom hotter, needier, desperate for more. You were still shuddering around Akutagawa’s rough stretch when another shadow fell across you, Chuuya. His gloved hand fisted in your hair, yanking your head back just enough to bare your mouth to him. “Open up,” he growled, voice rough and ragged.

Before you could obey, Dazai was already there, fingers curling under your chin, tilting your head to his. His grin was infuriating, eyes alight with cruel mischief. “Tch. You don’t get her all to yourself, Chibi,” he purred. “She’s greedy. She can take us both.”

Chuuya snarled, but shoved himself between your lips anyway, forcing your throat open around him. The taste of him hit sharp, musky, demanding. You gagged, but the sound only made him groan, hips grinding forward.

Akutagawa’s hand came down across your ass again sharp, possessive and you screamed around Chuuya, the vibration making him groan. Then Dazai pressed in alongside him, crowding your mouth with mocking gentleness, his length sliding over your tongue until you were stretched impossibly full.

“See?” Dazai cooed, breath warm against your ear. “Bella loves it. Look at her—drooling, gagging, still begging with her eyes.”

Your moans vibrated around them, tears streaking down your cheeks as they fought for space, shoving deeper, forcing you to swallow around both. Chuuya’s growl cut through the wet sounds. “Say my name. Now.”

“Ah-ah,” Dazai interrupted, thrusting shallow just to make you choke. “Don’t you mean our names?”

They clashed over you, mouths snarling words as your throat worked helplessly, drool spilling down your chin. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe between them but every humiliating second sent fire racing through you. You loved it.

Akutagawa’s hiss from behind snapped through the haze. “Pitiful, really.” His thrusts drove deeper into your body. Pinned. Used. Overwhelmed from every angle, you were trembling, ecstatic, every cruel word and rough thrust feeding the blaze inside you.

In front, Chuuya and Dazai battled for your mouth—Chuuya snarling every time you moaned around him, Dazai chuckling as he shoved in beside him, making you gag. They argued over you like enemies sharing a prize, each thrust into your throat pushing tears and drool down your chin.

And then Ranpo slid in with a sing-song hum, crouching low to trace a sticky finger along your thigh. “All stuffed up front, huh? Good thing you still have one, very wet, very open hole.”

You gasped, muffled around Chuuya and Dazai, when Ranpo pushed inside from behind, sliding into the heat that Akutagawa wasn’t claiming. He bottomed out with a pleased sigh. “Mm—perfect. Like dessert after dinner.”

Now you were split open on every side. Akutagawa’s punishing rhythm in one place, Ranpo’s playful grind in the other, Chuuya and Dazai fighting for your throat. You moaned incoherently, drooling and trembling, but you loved it. Every humiliating sound, every brutal stretch only made the fire burn hotter.

Ranpo chuckled against as he rocked into you, his words sticky-sweet and cruel. “So greedy. Bet you’ll still beg for candy after this.” He slapped your ass lightly, playful before snapping his hips harder, chasing the sound of your muffled cries.

Akutagawa kept you pinned, hand at your nape, pace ruthless. “Pathetic,” he hissed in your ear. “You’re stretched open, dripping, and still begging. Say it—you love being used like this.”

Ranpo laughed against your shoulder, rhythm playful, sharp snaps of his hips punctuated by mocking little hums. “Our greedy girl. You’d melt for us like chocolate if we let you.” He smeared sugar on your skin with sticky fingers, licking it off between thrusts.

Chuuya snarled down at you, every groan vibrating through your throat. “Mine. Don’t forget it.” He slapped your cheek lightly, forcing your eyes up to him even through tears.

Dazai crowded closer, sliding beside Chuuya, voice soft and taunting as he pressed in again. “Look at her—crying, drooling, gagging—and still moaning for more. Sweetheart, you’re perfection.” His laughter was sweet and sharp as a knife.

You could barely breathe around them, barely think with the way they all pulled you apart at once but your body screamed yes with every tremor, every muffled cry. You weren’t breaking you were thriving in the filth, the shame, the heat.

Chuuya’s grip tightened in your hair, his hips snapping faster until he shoved deep down your throat with a guttural growl. Hot release spilled, and you swallowed eagerly, tears streaming as he forced every drop down.

Dazai pulled free with a low laugh, stroking himself while watching you gag and gulp. His groan was long and indulgent as he painted your face, fingers smearing it into your cheeks like a signature. “There. Marked beautifully.”

Ranpo groaned behind you, thrusts growing sloppy before he yanked out, spilling across your lower back and ass with a delighted hum. “Sticky and sweet. Just how I like my treats.”

Akutagawa didn’t stop until the last second, his relentless pace breaking only to pull free, his release hot across your back alongside Ranpo’s. His voice cut low, flat. “Pathetic. Ruined. Ours.”

You collapsed forward onto your elbows, chest heaving, skin sticky with sugar, sweat, and the weight of all four of them. Your mouth was swollen, your body aching, but the bliss was undeniable you wrecked and glowing.

Chuuya crouched to lift you, wrapping you in his jacket, kissing your damp temple even as his voice stayed rough. “Mine. Always mine.”

Ranpo pressed a chocolate between your lips, smug grin wide. “Sweet after bitter, darling.”

Akutagawa stayed silent, pulling your costume. Well what was left of it up, but his pale eyes lingered, sharp and unreadable.

Dazai cupped your face, wiping your cheeks with gentle l fingers, voice soft and mocking at once. “Our perfect sacrifice. Until next Halloween, belladonna.”

Surrounded, marked, adored in their own twisted ways you weren’t broken. You were ecstatic, utterly theirs, and you loved every filthy second.

This concludes Kinktober2025, thank you all for tuning in! Which story from this month was your favorite?

Master list

[dumbslvtt]

i wish all of my almost 300 followers could run a train on me 🥵

[lulucunt]

ive been non stop thinking about bwinf brurally gangr4p3d hehehe like literally cant atop thinking about it!! would anyone be down to join and help ruin me??