[Fiction] ✖✖ The Locker Room ✖

[Leopard]

You take a deep breath, knowing what you have to do. Time to get this performance over with as quickly as possible. You're dressed in your usual school uniform and then sent into the boys' locker room to do a strip show on the benches for the boys' team that's in there.

There's ten of them, all standing and watching, silent at first as you climb up onto the bench, then hooting and cheering as you begin to unbutton your shirt, making you blush a deeper scarlet with every item of clothing you slowly remove for their amusement.

Once you're naked, they say that you look hot and sweaty from showing off in front of them, and lead you into the shower area, telling you to have a cool shower in front of them to clean up.

At first you're just told to dance slowly under the falling water for them, then one undresses and comes and join you, calling you the team's cleaning bitch and telling you to get to work, nodding down at his hard cock, all huge and hard because of you. Another soon joins in, pressing up against your backside, sandwiching you between them, feeling a cock against your tummy and one pressing against your asshole.

One of the other boys point out that they shouldn't fuck your ass yet, with no idea where the little whore has been, so instead they push you down to your knees with a line of cocks standing in front of you, and put a shower hose up your ass, shooting warm water up inside you and telling you to keep all ten cocks hard at the same time, to not let any go soft ... and to not put a finger on any of them.

They keep you sucking and moving from cock to cock until they see your belly bloated and full, then pull the hose out and position you squatting with your legs wide open in the showers, all of them standing back facing you and telling you not to look away from their faces as you let it all out of your ass.

All the boys giggle and point, saying how cute the little slut looks being so dirty in front of them, saying that she looks ready for the proper shower she's earning. They turn the water off and put her straddling one of the guys on the ground in the middle of the shower room, facing him, pussy quickly filled with hard cock while another barely takes the time to lube his cock before forcing it into your ass.

The others tell you not to close your eyes or look away from them as they stand around you, ordering you to keep your back arched head right up, that your hands must remain out to your sides, keeping busy making sure no one goes soft. Your mouth works on one in the middle, constantly being swapped between different guys, each one making you look up into his eyes as your throat tickles the head of his cock, your hands wrapped around two other hard cocks waiting for their turn in one of your three fuckholes, as both holes between your open legs are pounded mercilessly.

They keep going like that, swapping positions every so often, but so that there's always a cock being rammed into both of your gaping holes, always at least one - sometimes more - cock in your mouth, until you're so exhausted from the repeated fucking that you can't keep upright as ordered any more.

Given a break, you're brought a bowl of cool water and it's put it on the shower floor in front of you. A guy pulls your hands behind your back and pulls you up onto your knees. He bends your face down to the bowl and tells you to lap it all up and catch your breath, that with all their swapping about not a single guy has orgasmed yet, that you have so much more use to give them all.

Once you're all done with your water, you're lifted up to your feet, bent over straight, arms again out to your sides and given a cock each to hold, while this time only one rear hole at a time is used, the boys taking turns to fuck either your pussy or ass as you stand bent over struggling to hold the position and not fall. This time they fuck you so much harder, gripping and digging their nails into your hips so they can ram their cocks in harder. Again you're told to keep your eyes on the boy in front as he buries his cock down your throat, forcing you down it til your nose hits his pubic hair, slapping your face anytime your eyes look away from his, holding you down like that for a few seconds before taking his cock out and slapping your face with his it covered in your saliva. He then lets another guy take his place, and your throat is again stretched for their amusement, the constant fucking between your legs continuing the entire time.

Eventually you can't keep up anymore and sink to your knees, too exhausted and in a blur of the pleasure of being used and feels consciousness slipping away.

When you wake up later, your holes are much sorer than you remember, both of them aching and burning, and your throat is raw. You're lying on a bench and have been dressed again, but you can feel the tell tale slow drip of ten loads of cum stuck between your shirt and torso, every load dumped on you by a guy satisfied by using your body, but with you unconscious and unable to beg to drink them all up or even get a taste.

The main guy has stayed behind to wait, and helps you walk home on shaky legs that will barely support you, pausing in the park along the way to push you down to your knees and pee all over your face and shirt before leading you along the way home, not giving you any time to clean up. At the end of your street he reaches under your skirt and pulls your white lacy panties down around your ankles, telling you to walk down the street and inside your house like that. He reminds you that they have practice again after school tomorrow, and that you'd best not be late.

[JustaBrony]

Very nice story~

[masters_kitten]

Oooh i love it you are awesome :-)

[Leopard]

It's been a long day. But now you're home, and all you can really think about is baring your cunt to the winter air - no matter how cold it is - and ramming the first thing you can grab straight up it. There's no time for comfort, for the slow, teasing build - the need to be filled overrides everything.

You stumble through the doorway and you're already tripping over your own skirt before you get anywhere near the privacy of your own room. There isn't time to do it properly,to get comfortable, to check if anyone else is home - you need it now. Right now. And so you're stumbling in the hallway, falling to your knees because you tried to get undressed too fast, didn't want to pay heed to the buttons, not even the movement of your legs.

The wooden floor is hard, cold from a day of household neglect, no one to warm its planks with the soft footprints of those who belong. But you're here now, and the hallway floor just down from the front door is as good a place as any, as far as you're concerned. No one from outside can see you to tell you to stop, and so long as there's no one to make you stop, you know you'll keep going until you find the release you need.

You fumble with your backpack. The zipper's barely tugged open and your hand is already forcing its way inside, your mind a rainforest haze of desire, hoping that you'll find something in there that'll be perfect, a good thick dildo or a hot, ready cock. Of course there's nothing like that in there - why would there be? But your mind doesn't want to listen to answers like that, so you keep poring about until you find your hairbrush and wrench it out of your bag.

Your other hand is already busy, tugging the crotch of your stained panties aside, annoying you but at least allowing access, letting your fingers trace shudder-inducing lines up and down the length of your hungry lips. It's too early to touch your clit yet; you're far too sensitive, and you know from experience that playing with it directly at this stage will cause as much discomfort as it will pleasure. But you can warm up, at least, stroke your lips into life, feeling the entrance of your little hole contracting in rhythmic need even as you tease it open, your juices already leaking freely down to your thigh.

The need is back again, and stronger. You'd prefer to ease the way with a finger, to stroke your muscles smoothly to life, but you're too impatient, telling yourself that that isn't about what you'd prefer. This is need, pure need, and it goes far beyond anything your waking mind decides it likes. Bringing the brush down between your legs, you tell your patient, pleasure-loving desires to go fuck themselves, because right now you're all too consumed with the fantasy of being fucked hard, of having to make do with the leftover scraps of pleasure from being made to take whatever you're given. Of having someone else forcefully use your body as long and as hard as they want, giving you the firm knowledge that the only pleasure they're intentionally offering you is the satisfaction of pleasing them. Yes, that sounds good to you right now. You force the brush handle inside yourself.

Discomfort rushes up through your body, closely trailed by pain, but only for a moment; no matter how you try to rush, the way is already slick and wet, and after only two thrusts, the brush is buried inside you to the bristles. You start working it in and out of you, hot, tight muscles working hard against your own lubrication to cling onto the handle. But you're too wet for that and quickly becoming too hot all over; your breath is catching and air's being pumped in and out of your lungs in loud, rushed loads, the rise and fall of your chest matched in time to the thrusts of your hand as you fuck yourself with your hairbrush again and again. The heat's spreading - down your thighs and up through your chest and shoulders, a creeping, enveloping sensation, letting you know that your body's fully committed now, that there is no way you'll be satisfied of stopping anywhere short of releasing an overwhelming wave of pleasure. Maybe two.

As tiny beads of sweat form across your brow and the rest of your upper body, your free hand clutches at your breast, hating more than at any other moment the thick padding of the bra blocking your way, hating the fiddly buttons of your blouse that you're too impatient to undo. You settle instead for arching your back and tugging your blouse up your body, an awkward process that your rational mind would have told you takes longer than unbuttoning it properly would have done. But proper doesn't matter, because you've gotten the white cotton up over your chest, yanked your bra up, and now your breasts are free to rock in counterpoint to the thrusts of your hips and the brush.

Your fingers twist the hard rise of your nipples between them, teasing, playing in your usual way at first, but quickly progressing to pinching them hard. Electric sensations jolt through your chest, and somehow, the pain that you're inflicting on yourself is good, is exactly what you need. But pinching takes concentration, and it's hard enough to simply remember to breathe right now, so your hand soon settles back to grasping at your breast, your nails digging into the soft flesh that you spend so much time keeping hidden from everyone, when it feels so good to be free and touched.

At the same time, you're fucking yourself with the brush harder and faster than ever. You wish it was bigger, wish that it wasn't you who has to do the thrusting. You're all too aware that no matter how hard you go, you'll always be able to take what you give yourself, that no matter how good it feels to be making your cunt feel so much, it'll never compare to what another could force out of you. For you panting exhaustion means slowing muscles, breaks to simply breathe. But if it were another in charge, claiming your body for their own amusement - then they could keep going long after you've been drained of every last reserve of energy, until after you've lost the ability to form the words to beg them to stop. With someone else doing the fucking, someone else determined to pound every last drop of emotion from your pussy, they could continue until you passed out unconscious, and they could let you wake again to the bruising pain of knowing that you were in use the entire time your mind was gone, that you're still in use on waking. Another person could demonstrate that no matter how tired or over-sensitive you become, no matter how many orgasms are forced from you, how much pain you feel, you will continue to feel and take all of it until they are finished with you, and that you have no control whatsoever over when that might be.

The thought spurs you on, your hands working extra hard to prove that while they can't transcend those sane limits, they too are capable of providing you with boundless pleasure.

It doesn't take long - you've been horny as fuck all day, and all your thoughts and memories of that day in the locker room, the tease of having a repeat of it denied you has been driving you crazy. Seconds later you're arching up, toes and shoulder blades the only parts of your body remaining connected to the floor as every muscle in your body tightens up in anticipation. The release you've been searching for is finally let free, and you moan out low and long as every bit of life and tension drains out of you. Breathing is hard at first, the world around you a mess of dancing lights, but then it becomes easier as you let go, slipping into the darkness of blissful freedom.

[JustaBrony]

Nice addition~ ^^
Can't wait for more

[SoulMore]

That is very fervorous story you got there, it would be my pleasure for you to continue

[shola]

Yes... Yes... I was going to skip to a story which had more written, before I saw the author. I am glad I read.

[PedroParker]

Originally Posted by SoulMore

That is very fervorous cheap lingerie story you got there, it would be my pleasure for you to continue

It was indeed very interesting story. It you have more such stories please share them

[abcm123]

you should put your stories on wattpad