Chapter 4: Analingus
The room was thick with the scent of sweat and sex, the air heavy and oppressive. Derek’s chest heaved as he knelt on the worn-out couch, his body trembling with exhaustion and something else he couldn’t quite name. The taste of Scott’s cum still coated his tongue, bitter and salty, and he swallowed hard, trying to push down the nausea that churned in his gut. Nate stood over him, his shadow looming large, his cock already hard and demanding.
"Open up," Nate said, his voice calm but firm, like he was giving an order he expected to be obeyed without question. Derek hesitated for a fraction of a second, his mind screaming at him to stop, but his body moved on its own. Nate’s cock pressed against his lips, hot and heavy, and Derek parted them, letting the thick head slide into his mouth.
"That’s it," Nate murmured, his hand resting on the back of Derek’s head, guiding him forward. "Suck it like you mean it." Derek’s jaw ached almost immediately, his mouth stretched wide as Nate pushed deeper. He gagged, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, but Nate didn’t stop.
Behind him, Peter’s fingers were cold and slick as they traced the curve of his ass, spreading him open. Derek flinched, his body tensing, but Peter’s grip was firm. "Relax," Peter whispered, his breath hot against Derek’s ear. "You’re doing so good." The words were soft, almost comforting, but they did nothing to ease the knot of fear tightening in Derek’s chest.
The head of Peter’s cock pressed against his hole, blunt and unyielding. Derek gasped around Nate’s cock, his body instinctively trying to pull away, but Peter held him in place. "Easy," Nate said, his voice a low growl, his hips still moving rhythmically against Derek’s mouth. "He’s still a virgin, remember?"
Peter chuckled, the sound dark and predatory. "That’s the best part," he said, his tone dripping with amusement. "Breaking him in." With that, he pushed forward, and Derek cried out, the sound muffled by Nate’s cock. The pain was sharp and immediate, a searing, tearing sensation that made his vision blur.
"Fuck, he’s tight," Peter groaned, his voice strained as he forced himself deeper. Derek’s hands clawed at Nate’s thighs, his body arching, trying to escape the invasion. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the sweat and spit that already coated his skin.
"Just breathe," Peter said, his voice rough but oddly gentle. "It’ll get better." Derek didn’t believe him, but he couldn’t fight it either. Slowly, agonizingly, Peter pushed all the way in, his hips flush against Derek’s ass. Derek whimpered, his body shaking, his mind a haze of pain and humiliation.
Peter started to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one sending a fresh wave of agony through Derek’s body. Nate’s cock was still in his mouth, filling him, choking him, and Derek bit down hard, trying to distract himself from the pain in his ass. Nate groaned, his hips bucking, and Derek gagged again, his throat burning.
As Peter’s thrusts grew harder, faster, the pain began to shift, morphing into something else. Derek’s body started to relax, his muscles loosening, his mind drifting. He hated it, hated himself for it, but the sensation was undeniable. A flicker of pleasure sparked deep inside him, small but insistent, and he moaned, the sound muffled but unmistakable.
"That’s it," Peter growled, his voice ragged, his body slick with sweat. "You’re taking it so good." Derek’s mind was a blur, his body no longer his own. He was being used, abused, degraded, but somewhere in the chaos, he felt something close to acceptance.
Peter’s thrusts became erratic, his breathing harsh and uneven. Derek could feel him getting closer, the pressure building, and then Peter roared, his body convulsing as he came deep inside Derek’s ass. The heat of it was overwhelming, and Derek gasped, his body arching, his mind shattering into a million pieces.
When Peter finally pulled out, Derek collapsed onto the couch, his body limp and trembling. Nate stepped back, his cock still hard, but he didn’t say anything. Peter wiped himself off with a towel, his breathing still heavy, a satisfied smirk on his face.
Derek lay there, broken and used, his body aching, his mind numb. He didn’t know if he’d ever feel clean again, but he knew one thing for certain: he wasn’t the same person he’d been when he walked into that room.
And maybe, just maybe, that was exactly what he’d wanted all along.