The BDSM Ball
By SmutWriterAI.
The leather harness strapped across his chest and around his hips dug into his flesh, leaving his pale skin exposed—his small dick jiggling uselessly beneath the crisscrossed straps, no bigger than a knuckle even as his heart raced with a mix of terror and thrill. He was twenty-five, out of place among the sculpted dominants and their poised subs, but the anonymity of the mask made him bold enough to step fully into the BDSM ball’s chaotic heart.
Eyes locked on him immediately. A tall woman in thigh-high boots smirked, her gaze raking over his jiggling thighs and the pathetic nub between his legs. Billy’s cheeks burned under the mask, humiliation flooding his veins like liquid fire, yet it stirred something deep—his dick twitched, straining against the harness’s unyielding grip. He shuffled forward, the crowd parting just enough to let stares pierce him, whispers cutting through the moans and cracks of whips echoing around.
“Look at that fat little pig,” someone murmured nearby, and Billy’s stomach twisted, his mind screaming to hide even as his body ached for more exposure, more judgment on his worthless body.
A circle formed around him without warning, three dominants closing in like predators—a burly man with a spiked collar, a lithe woman in latex, and another guy whose muscles rippled under tattooed skin. The burly one grabbed Billy’s harness first, yanking him forward so his soft gut pressed against the man’s hard chest.
“On your knees, worm,” he growled, voice rough as gravel.
Billy dropped, knees hitting the sticky floor, the impact jarring his bones. The woman’s boot nudged his tiny dick, grinding the sole against it until it throbbed painfully in its confines. “Pathetic excuse for a dick,” she laughed, her fingers twisting into the harness straps to pull his head up, forcing him to meet her eyes through the mask’s slits.
Billy’s breath hitched, muffled whimpers escaping the zipper as shame coiled tight in his gut, but god, it made him leak pre-cum, the wetness smearing against the leather.
The tattooed guy circled behind, his hands rough on Billy’s ass cheeks, spreading them wide for the crowd’s view. “Bend over, slut. Show everyone that loose hole.”
Billy obeyed, arching his back, feeling the cool air hit his exposed asshole as fingers probed without mercy—one dipping in dry, stretching him roughly while the others watched and jeered.
“He’s dripping already, the needy bitch,” the burly man said, slapping Billy’s chubby thigh hard enough to leave a red print.
Each touch sent jolts through Billy’s body, his mind a whirlwind of degradation and desperate want—he craved the burn, the way their commands stripped him bare, emotionally and physically. His dick strained harder, the harness biting into the base, denying him full hardness, and he moaned into the mask, the sound garbled and animalistic, pleading for them to break him further.
The woman knelt then, her nails raking down his back as she whispered hot against his ear, “You love this, don’t you? Being our public toy, your little prick ignored while we use your fat ass.”
She spat on his asshole, the tattooed guy’s finger plunging deeper, twisting to hit that spot that made Billy’s vision blur with need. The burly dominant unzipped his pants, pulling out a thick, veined shaft that dwarfed Billy’s in every way, and pressed the head against his lips through the mask’s opening.
“Suck it, pig. Earn your punishment.”
Billy’s mouth watered, tongue darting out to lap at the salty tip, the taste flooding his senses as the circle tightened, more hands groping his body, pinching nipples, slapping his balls.
Tension thickened in the dark room, shadows dancing from strobe lights as the dominants’ touches grew hungrier. The tattooed guy added a second finger, scissoring Billy’s ass open with brutal efficiency, while the woman’s hand wrapped around his harness-trapped cock, squeezing just enough to make him buck and whine.
The burly man’s cock pushed past his lips, filling his mouth with heavy thrusts, gagging him as pre-cum coated his throat. He was theirs, exposed and aching, the crowd’s murmurs a distant roar. And as the dominant behind him positioned himself, hot breath on Billy’s neck promising more, the night stretched endlessly with unspoken threats of deeper violation.
The burly dominant’s grip tightened on Billy’s harness like iron clamps, yanking him off his knees with a brutal tug that sent pain shooting through his shoulders. Billy stumbled forward, the thick cock slipping from his mouth with a wet pop, strings of saliva and pre-cum dangling from his zipped-open lips. His chubby body jiggled with the motion, soft belly slapping against his thighs as the man—towering over him at least six-foot-five, muscles bulging under his leather vest—dragged him through the crowd.
The warehouse’s strobe lights flashed across faces twisted in hunger, the sea of bodies parting like waves before a storm, whispers turning to low growls of anticipation. Billy’s heart hammered in his chest, shame burning hot under the gimp mask, but that twisted thrill coiled deeper in his gut, making his tiny dick pulse uselessly against the harness straps.
They reached the center of the room, a cleared circle on the stained concrete floor ringed by dozens of eyes—dark, predatory stares from dominants in chains and latex, subs peeking from collars. The burly man shoved Billy down to his knees again, the impact bruising his kneecaps, but before he could catch his breath, more hands descended. Rough palms slapped his soft sides, fingers digging into the rolls of his belly, kneading the flesh like dough.
A woman’s sharp nails raked his inner thighs, spreading them wide to expose his dangling micropenis fully, while a man’s calloused hand yanked at the harness buckle across his chest.
“Strip this pig bare,” the burly dominant barked, his voice booming over the bass thump.
Leather creaked as straps loosened, one by one—first the chest band snapping free, letting his pale, sweaty tits bounce loose, nipples hardening in the cool air. Billy whimpered through the mask, the sound muffled and pathetic, his mind reeling from the exposure, every inch of his chubby, unmarked body laid out for judgment.
The tattooed guy from before joined in, his strong hands ripping the hip straps apart with a tear of leather, the harness falling away in pieces to pool at Billy’s feet. Now fully naked except for the tight gimp mask clinging to his sweat-slick face, Billy trembled, goosebumps prickling his soft skin.
The crowd murmured approval, a few laughs cutting through: “Look at that worthless little babydick,” and Billy’s cheeks flamed, humiliation flooding him like a wave, yet it made his asshole clench around the memory of those probing fingers, craving the invasion.
Hands explored without mercy: one dominant’s fist wrapped around his thigh, squeezing the fat until it bruised; another’s palm smacked his ass cheek, the sting blooming red and hot; fingers pinched his balls, rolling them roughly while a boot nudged his exposed hole, the leather toe pressing just enough to tease entry.
“On your knees properly, slut,” the lithe woman commanded, her voice silky but edged with steel as she grabbed a fistful of his hair through the mask’s fabric, forcing his head up.
Billy’s legs shook, knees grinding into the floor as he straightened his back, presenting himself like an offering. The towering, burly man stepped forward first, unzipping fully to let his massive cock spring free—thick as Billy’s wrist, veins throbbing, the head already slick. He slapped it against Billy’s masked cheek, the heavy weight smearing pre-cum across the leather.
“Open wide, worm. Worship it.”
More dominants closed in—a bearded guy with piercings, another woman with cropped hair—each pulling out their cocks or strapping on thick dildos, pushing them toward Billy’s face in a semicircle of demanding flesh. The scents hit him: musky sweat, salty skin, the sharp tang of arousal mixing with the warehouse’s haze of smoke and leather.
Billy’s mouth watered despite the shame knotting his stomach, his tiny dick twitching in the open air, barely an inch long and soft from the earlier torment. The bearded dominant noticed, his boot coming down to pin Billy’s pathetic nub to the floor, grinding the sole against it slowly.
“Stretch that babydick for us, pig. Show how small you really are.”
Pain lanced through Billy’s groin as the pressure forced his micropenis to elongate slightly, the skin pulling taut, a bead of pre-cum oozing out to slick the boot. He gasped, the zipper mouth of the mask stretching wide as he obeyed, fingers—his own, trembling—reaching down to tug at the base, trying to make it grow under their watchful eyes.
Laughter rippled around him, harsh and cutting, but it only fueled the fire in his veins, his submissive heart aching for their cruelty, the emotional rawness of being so utterly owned twisting with the physical burn.
Desperation clawed at him now, Billy leaning forward to worship the cocks pressing in. His tongue darted out first, lapping at the burly man’s shaft from base to tip, tasting the salty veins as he traced every ridge.
“That’s it, lick it clean,” the man growled, thrusting shallowly to smear more pre-cum on Billy’s lips.
Billy’s body quivered, soft flesh jiggling with each movement, as he turned to the next—the woman’s strap-on, thick and black, shoving past his teeth to fill his mouth with silicone hardness. He sucked greedily, hollowing his cheeks, gagging softly as it hit the back of his throat, drool spilling down his chin to drip onto his exposed chest.
The tattooed guy grabbed his head, forcing him onto his own cock next, the piercings clinking against Billy’s teeth as he bobbed desperately, tongue swirling around the head to coax out more flavor.
Yet beneath it, a dark intimacy bloomed, their commands wrapping around him like chains, making him feel seen in his brokenness, desired for his flaws. The bearded dominant’s boot pressed harder on his stretched dick, the humiliation peaking as it leaked steadily, untouched except for the cruel weight.
“Beg for more, fat boy,” the woman hissed, pulling her strap-on free with a pop, strings of spit connecting them.
Billy’s voice cracked through the mask, muffled and needy: “Please… use me… harder.”
The circle tightened, cocks and toys jostling for his mouth, the air thick with grunts and wet sounds, promising no end to the degradation as another dominant positioned behind him, fingers spreading his cheeks for what came next.
The dominant behind Billy wasted no time, his thick fingers digging into the soft flesh of Billy’s ass cheeks, spreading them wide to expose his puckered asshole to the cool warehouse air. Billy’s breath hitched, a muffled whine escaping the gimp mask as the man’s rough palm cracked down hard, the slap echoing over the throbbing music.
Pain bloomed across his skin, hot and stinging, but it sent a jolt straight to his core, his micropenis twitching uselessly against the bearded dominant’s boot still pinning it to the floor. Shame twisted in Billy’s gut like a knife, yet the raw vulnerability of it all made his heart race, a desperate need to surrender flooding him, making him feel alive in the degradation.
“On all fours, pig,” the burly man snarled, yanking Billy’s head back by the mask’s edge, forcing him to drop forward.
His palms slapped against the gritty concrete, knees already bruised and aching as he assumed the position, ass up and presented like a bitch in heat. The crowd’s murmurs grew louder, eyes devouring his chubby form—soft belly hanging low, thighs quivering with fat, tiny dick dangling pathetically between his legs.
Billy’s mind spun, humiliation crashing over him in waves, but beneath it, a twisted intimacy pulsed; these strangers owned him now, their cruelty stripping away his defenses, leaving only the aching submissive core he’d hidden for so long.
The circle of dominants shifted, boots scuffing the floor as they repositioned, cocks and strap-ons jutting out like weapons. “Crawl to me first, worm,” the lithe woman ordered, her voice slicing through the haze, stepping back just enough to make him work for it.
Billy hesitated for a split second, trembling, before obedience kicked in. He lurched forward on hands and knees, the movement making his belly sway and slap against his thighs, his exposed asshole clenching under the stares. Each shuffle scraped his skin raw, but the exposure fueled him, his breath coming in ragged gasps through the mask’s zipper.
He reached her first, nuzzling blindly against her thigh until the thick strap-on bobbed into his view. “Suck it like you mean it,” she commanded, grabbing his hair and shoving the silicone head past his lips.
Billy’s mouth stretched wide, gagging as it filled him, the bitter taste of lube coating his tongue. He bobbed desperately, cheeks hollowing, drool bubbling out to slick his chin and drip onto the floor. His body shook with effort, soft flesh jiggling, as he hollowed his cheeks and swirled his tongue around the ridges, sucking with pathetic eagerness.
A sharp slap cracked across his face from the tattooed guy, the sting making Billy’s eyes water behind the mask. “Faster, fat slut—don’t make us wait.”
The impact jerked his head, but he redoubled, throat working to take more, gagging wetly as the strap-on hit deep. He crawled onward at her shove, the withdrawal leaving his mouth empty and aching, strings of spit trailing.
Next was the bearded dominant, his pierced cock thick and heavy, slapping against Billy’s masked cheek before thrusting in. Billy latched on, sucking greedily, tongue flicking the metal barbells, tasting the salty pre-cum oozing from the slit. His jaw burned, muffled moans vibrating around the shaft as he trembled, body exposed and crawling like an animal.
“Pathetic little crawler,” the burly man laughed, his massive hand coming down on Billy’s ass with a resounding smack that made the flesh ripple and redden.
Pain exploded, hot tears pricking Billy’s eyes, but he pushed back instinctively, craving the burn. Another spank from the woman landed on the other cheek, her nails raking the sensitive skin afterward, drawing thin lines of fire.
“Beg for it, pig. Louder—tell us how much you need this beating.”
Billy pulled off the bearded cock with a gasp, his voice hoarse and broken through the mask: “Please… spank me harder… punish this worthless body.” The words humiliated him to his core, cheeks flaming, but saying them aloud cracked something open, a flood of needy vulnerability that made his tiny dick leak steadily onto the floor.
They didn’t hold back. Slaps rained down—face stinging from open palms, ass cheeks throbbing under relentless swats that left handprints blooming purple. Each impact jolted Billy forward, forcing him to crawl faster between them, sucking one cock after another. The tattooed guy’s pierced length stretched his lips wide, piercings clinking against teeth as he deepthroated it, gagging and choking, snot mixing with drool on his chin.
“Good boy, choke on it,” the man growled, slapping Billy’s other cheek hard enough to snap his head sideways.
Billy whimpered, crawling to the next—a lean dominant with a curved cock that he worshipped sloppily, tongue lapping the underside while hands groped his swinging balls, squeezing until he yelped.
By now, the harness remnants were long gone, scattered like discarded trash, leaving Billy utterly bare save for the clinging gimp mask. His chubby body glistened with sweat, every roll and curve on full display, pubic hair matted with pre-cum from his untouched nub. The vulnerability hit him like a punch—naked in this den of wolves, no barriers left, just his soft, flawed flesh for their amusement.
“Enough warm-up,” the burly dominant rumbled, his voice cutting through the wet slurps and smacks.
The circle tightened further, boots nudging Billy’s sides to keep him centered, cocks withdrawing from his mouth with pops and strings of saliva. Hands pinned his arms, forcing him to stay on all fours, ass high and hole winking exposed. The woman traced a finger around his rim, teasing entry without mercy, while the bearded man ground his boot harder on Billy’s stretched micropenis, the pressure making it throb painfully.
“Time for the real show, slut. Beg for your finale—tell us what a desperate hole you are.”
Billy’s voice cracked, trembling with anticipation and fear: “Please… use my holes… humiliate me completely.”
Laughter rippled around him, the air thick with promise as they positioned tools and cocks, the cruel edge of what was to come hanging heavy, Billy’s body quivering in the center, utterly broken and yearning.
The burly dominant’s laugh rumbled low, vibrating through the air as he released Billy’s arms, but only to shove him forward roughly toward the cluster of female dommes who’d been circling like predators, their eyes gleaming with wicked intent. Billy’s knees scraped the concrete, his chubby body lurching with the force, soft belly brushing the floor as he caught himself.
Heart pounding, he felt the shift in the circle—the men stepping back slightly, cocks still hard and dripping, while the women advanced, their heels clicking sharply. The lithe woman from earlier grabbed a fistful of the gimp mask’s strap, yanking his head up to meet her gaze, her lips curled in a sneer that sent fresh humiliation flooding Billy’s veins.
“Your mouth’s been busy with cocks, pig. Now it’s time to service real holes. Crawl to us and show how grateful you are for this honor.”
Billy’s breath caught, a muffled whimper slipping through the mask’s zipper. The command twisted something deep inside him—shame at his eagerness, but an undeniable pull toward the degradation, like it was the only thing that could quiet the storm of his insecurities. He nodded frantically, the mask constricting his vision, and began to crawl again, palms and knees burning as he inched toward the first domme, a tall brunette with curves poured into black latex, her thighs parting slightly to reveal the slick, shaved pussy glistening under the dim lights.
The crowd’s whispers grew, a hungry hum that made Billy’s skin prickle, every eye on his naked, jiggling form—his micropenis dragging uselessly between his legs, leaving a trail of pre-cum on the floor.
She didn’t wait for him to reach her fully. Her hand shot out, fingers tangling in the mask as she forced his face down, smashing his nose into the wet heat of her folds. The musky scent hit him like a wave, tangy and overpowering, her arousal coating his lips through the mask’s opening.
“Lick, you fat little worm. Clean my pussy with that desperate tongue.”
Billy obeyed instantly, his tongue darting out to lap at her slick lips, tracing the swollen outer folds before delving into the inner ones, tasting the salty-sweet essence that flooded his mouth. He moaned softly, the sound muffled and pathetic, as he swirled around her clit, sucking gently then harder, feeling her thighs tense around his ears.
The intimacy of it burned—exposed and used in front of everyone, his chubby ass still raised high, hole clenching under the stares—but it cracked open a raw vulnerability, making him feel connected in his utter submission, like her pleasure was the only validation his broken body deserved.
“Good boy, but deeper—fuck me with your tongue,” she barked, grinding her hips forward to smear more of her juices across his masked face.
Billy pushed in, his tongue probing her entrance, lapping greedily at the walls, swallowing the mix of her taste and his own saliva. His jaw ached from the angle, neck straining as he worked, but the harsh praise spurred him on, a twisted warmth blooming in his chest amid the humiliation.
Another domme—a redhead with piercings glinting in her nipples—stepped up beside her, shoving Billy’s head sideways with a booted foot. “My turn, slut. Don’t stop until I cum on that worthless face.”
She hiked her skirt, spreading her legs wide, and Billy turned, tongue already out to trace her puffy lips, the coarse red hair tickling his nose as he delved in, sucking her clit with sloppy urgency.
The redhead’s hand cracked across his exposed shoulder, the sting making him yelp into her pussy, but he didn’t falter, lapping faster, feeling her wetness drip down his chin. The crowd pressed closer, murmurs turning to outright jeers:
“Look at the chubby gimp eating pussy like a starving dog.”
Heat flooded Billy’s cheeks, his tiny dick throbbing painfully, untouched and leaking, the public shame amplifying every sensation until he was trembling on the edge of tears.
But they weren’t done. The brunette domme grabbed Billy’s hair again, pulling him back to her as the redhead spread her legs even wider, her voice a whip-crack: “Now rim me, pig. Tongue my asshole clean.”
Billy’s stomach twisted, a fresh wave of degradation hitting him, but his body betrayed him, crawling forward as she turned, bending slightly to present her tight, puckered hole. The scent was earthier, bitter, and intimate, and he hesitated only a second before pressing his tongue flat against the rim, circling the wrinkled skin with tentative laps.
“Deeper—probe it like you mean it,” she commanded, reaching back to spread her cheeks wider, forcing his face in until his nose buried in her ass crack.
Billy gagged on the musky bitterness, the taste sharp on his tongue as he pushed past the resistance, the tip breaching her tight ring, swirling inside the hot, clenching passage. His muffled groans vibrated against her, body shaking with the effort, soft flesh quivering as he rimmed her desperately, craving the pain of her slaps to ground him.
The brunette joined in, turning and shoving his head between her own ass cheeks, her hole tighter still, demanding the same worship. “Tongue-fuck my ass, you disgusting toy. Make it sloppy.”
Billy alternated between them, tongue aching as it delved into one asshole then the other, gagging on the combined flavors, saliva and sweat mixing to drip down his neck. Each probe sent jolts of humiliated arousal through him, his micropenis straining, the emotional rawness of being reduced to this—a naked, masked hole-licker in public—making him ache with a dark, needy fulfillment.
The other female dommes closed in, a third one—a muscular blonde—grabbing his mask to force him to her dripping pussy first, then flipping to make him rim her shaved asshole, her commands barked harshly: “Lick it all out, fat boy—earn your place under us.”
Billy’s world narrowed to the cycle of wet folds and tight rims, his tongue raw and burning, body slick with their essences, the crowd’s eyes devouring his every jiggle and gasp. Slaps rained on his ass and back, keeping him moving, the pain blending with the intimate degradation until he was lost in it, trembling on all fours, utterly exposed and yearning for whatever cruel twist came next.
The muscular blonde domme’s grip on Billy’s mask tightened like a vice, her nails digging into the leather as she yanked his head back from her asshole with a wet pop, strings of saliva trailing from his numb tongue to her glistening rim.
“Not deep enough, you lazy fucktoy. Spread me wider and shove that tongue in until I feel it in my guts.”
She turned fully now, planting her boots wide apart on the grimy floor, her strong hands reaching back to pry her firm cheeks apart, exposing the tight, puckered hole fully to the leering crowd. Billy’s breath hitched, a fresh surge of humiliation crashing over him like cold water—his chubby body splayed out, knees raw from the concrete, every soft roll of his belly and the pathetic twitch of his micropenis on full display.
But beneath the shame, a twisted hunger gnawed at him, the kind that made his asshole clench in anticipation of more degradation, as if this was the only way he could feel truly seen.
He leaned in, face mashed into the heat of her ass crack, the bitter, earthy scent overwhelming his senses through the mask’s narrow slit. His tongue, sore and slick, pressed flat against her rim first, circling the wrinkled flesh with deliberate laps before pushing forward. She was unforgiving, her muscles clenching tight around the intrusion, but Billy forced it deeper, the tip breaching her ring and sliding into the hot, velvety tunnel.
He probed harshly, thrusting in and out like a desperate piston, feeling her walls grip and release around him. A muffled gag rose in his throat as the bitter tang coated his taste buds, sharp and unrelenting, but he didn’t pull back—couldn’t, with her hand fisting the mask to hold him there.
“Nibble it, pig—bite the rim like you want to own it,” the blonde snarled, her voice laced with mocking cruelty that sent shivers down Billy’s spine.
He obeyed, teeth grazing the sensitive edge of her asshole, nipping lightly at the puckered skin while his tongue delved even further, swirling inside to lap at the inner walls. The act was intimate in its filth, her body heat enveloping his face, sweat and musk mixing with his saliva to drip down his chin and onto his heaving chest.
His tiny dick jerked uselessly between his thighs, a bead of pre-cum oozing out, the ache building to a fever pitch without a single touch.
The crowd’s hunger thickened the air, their eyes burning into Billy’s exposed form like brands. Whispers turned to outright taunts: “Look at that fat gimp tongue-fucking ass like it’s his last meal.”
Each word stabbed deeper into his shame, flushing his skin hot beneath the mask. A man in the front row stroked his thick cock openly, grinning as he watched, while women licked their lips, some fingering themselves in rhythm with Billy’s probes. The public gaze amplified everything, turning his submission into a spectacle that both terrified and thrilled him.
His body trembling as he swallowed the blonde’s harsh commands, her voice booming over the din: “Deeper, you worthless asshole-licker—make my asshole clench around that pathetic tongue.”
Before he could catch his breath, the brunette domme shoved the blonde aside, her curvy hips swaying as she positioned herself, spreading her legs impossibly wider until her thighs quivered from the strain. “My turn again, slut. Ram it in—fuck my shithole like you mean it.”
She bent forward slightly, ass cheeks parting under her own grip, her hole winking invitingly, still slick from his earlier worship. Billy’s jaw screamed in protest, but he surged forward, tongue plunging straight into the tight ring without preamble. It was tighter here, the flesh unforgiving as it squeezed around him, forcing him to work harder, thrusting deep and nibbling the rim with sharp, teasing bites that made her gasp and grind back against his face.
Gagging on the bitter, musky flavor—deeper and more intense now, like swallowing her essence whole—Billy’s world blurred into a haze of heat and humiliation. Saliva bubbled at the corners of his mouth, spilling over as he probed relentlessly, feeling her asshole pulse around his tongue.
The redhead joined the fray, kicking his side lightly to shift him toward her, her voice a sultry growl: “Don’t forget me, chubby bitch. Spread my cheeks and devour this ass.”
She arched her back, legs splayed wide, and Billy crawled the scant inches, his soft belly dragging on the floor, micropenis scraping painfully against the rough surface. His tongue dove in immediately, harsh and unyielding, nibbling the rim before burrowing deep into the clenching heat, the bitter air filling his lungs as he gagged and swallowed, her commands echoing in his ears: “Taste every inch, pig—swallow my filth.”
Slaps rained down harder now, the dommes’ hands cracking across his jiggling ass cheeks with stinging force, each impact jolting his body forward and driving his tongue deeper into submission. The blonde’s palm left red welts on his pale skin, the pain blooming hot and sharp, blending with the ache in his jaw and the desperate throb of his tiny dick.
“Harder—take the pain, you love it,” she barked, another slap landing that made him yelp into the redhead’s asshole, the vibration drawing a moan from her.
Billy’s mind reeled, the physical torment pushing him further into that dark, needy space where shame and ecstasy blurred—his body a vessel for their pleasure, every twitch and gag a testament to his vulnerability. The crowd’s jeers swelled, eyes devouring the scene. Still, in the mix of agony and intimacy, Billy felt a profound connection, his submission raw and unfiltered, craving the next wave of cruelty to shatter him completely.
The dommes rotated him like a toy, forcing his tongue into one tight asshole after another, spreading wider each time, their slaps urging him on as his dick twitched wildly, on the brink of spilling without relief. The air hummed with their harsh laughter and commands, the circle tightening, promising no end to the humiliation.
The circle of dommes tightened further, their boots scuffing the floor as they shoved Billy’s face from one slick asshole to the next, his tongue a raw, throbbing muscle buried deep in the brunette’s clenching hole. He gagged on the bitter tang, saliva dripping down his chin, mixing with the sweat beading on his chubby neck.
Each thrust of his tongue drew a fresh slap to his ass, the sting radiating through his soft flesh, making his micropenis twitch harder, pre-cum smearing the concrete beneath him. Shame burned in his chest, hot and unrelenting, but so did the twisted thrill—the way their dominance stripped him bare, forcing him to confront the needy slut he’d always been.
The crowd’s jeers blurred into a roar, eyes locked on his exposed body, every jiggle and gasp amplified in the dim light.
Then, a hush rippled through the throng, broken only by the heavy thud of boots approaching. Billy’s heart hammered as he pulled his tongue free from the brunette’s asshole with a wet slurp, his jaw aching, breath ragged through the mask’s slit. He glanced up, vision blurry from tears and sweat, and froze.
Towering over the group was a female domme unlike the others—six-foot-something of solid muscle, her black latex catsuit gleaming under the strobing lights, curves honed like weapons. Her face was sharp, eyes cold and predatory, lips curled in a smirk that promised ruin.
Strapped to her hips was the most enormous dildo Billy had ever seen: a monstrous 20-inch beast of black silicone, thick as his wrist, veined and ribbed, jutting out like a battering ram. The base was harnessed tight against her pussy, and she stroked it once, the motion casual, as if it were an extension of her body.
“Out of the way, bitches,” she growled, her voice deep and commanding, slicing through the air like a whip.
The other dommes parted reluctantly, their hands lingering on Billy’s skin, pinching his nipples hard enough to make him whimper. She grabbed the back of his mask, yanking him upright on his knees, his chubby belly folding as he stared up at the massive strap-on swaying inches from his face.
Terror and arousal twisted in his gut—the thing was enormous, longer than his forearm, promising to split him open. Yet his asshole clenched involuntarily, a betraying pulse of need, his tiny dick leaking more pre-cum at the thought of being claimed so publicly, so completely.
“On all fours, fat pig,” she ordered, shoving him down with one hand on his shoulder.
Billy scrambled to obey, knees and palms scraping the floor, his soft ass lifting instinctively. The crowd murmured approval, phones flashing as they captured the moment. She kicked his thighs wider, her boot nudging his balls, making him yelp. Rough hands—hers—pried his cheeks apart, exposing his tight, pink asshole to the cool air and the hungry gazes surrounding them.
He felt the vulnerability like a punch, his hole winking under the scrutiny, untouched but quivering.
“Look at this virgin-tight shithole,” she taunted, her fingers circling the rim, dipping in just enough to make him gasp. “Begging to be wrecked. You want this monster cock stretching you wide, don’t you? Say it.”
“P-please,” Billy stammered, voice muffled and broken through the mask, shame flooding him as the words tumbled out. “Fuck my asshole… please, wreck me.”
The admission burned, but it unlocked something deeper, a raw intimacy in his surrender, her dominance wrapping around him like chains he craved.
She laughed, low and cruel, positioning the massive head against his entrance. The tip alone pressed hard, unyielding silicone kissing his pucker, the pressure building as she leaned in—no lube, no mercy—just the slick from his own saliva and sweat. With a grunt, she slammed forward, the first few inches breaching him in one brutal thrust.
Pain exploded through Billy’s body, his asshole stretching impossibly around the girth, burning like fire as it tore into him. He screamed into the mask, the sound garbled and desperate, his chubby frame bucking forward. But she held him firm, one hand on his hip, the other fisting his mask to keep his head up, forcing him to face the dommes circling back in.
“Keep licking, slut,” the blonde domme snarled, stepping forward and spreading her legs again, her pussy dripping inches from his mouth.
Billy’s vision swam, tears streaking his cheeks under the mask, but he lunged forward, tongue lapping at her wet pussy lips, tasting the salty musk as the towering domme pulled back and rammed deeper.
Inch after agonizing inch invaded his ass, the ribs dragging against his walls, filling him to the brink of breaking. His insides clenched around the intruder, every thrust sending shockwaves through his core, his micropenis flopping uselessly, harder than ever from the overwhelming mix of agony and ecstasy.
The redhead joined, shoving her asshole against his face next, smothering him as the strap-on bottomed out, the whole 20 inches buried in his guts. Billy gagged on her rim, tongue probing deep while his body rocked from the relentless fucking. The domme pounded him without pause, hips snapping forward, the base of the dildo grinding against her clit with each slam, her moans mixing with his muffled cries.
“Take it all, you gaping whore,” she hissed, slapping his ass hard, the impact jolting him deeper into the redhead’s hole.
The crowd roared now, a thunderous wave of cheers and catcalls, hands pumping cocks and fingers plunging into pussies as they watched Billy’s face mash into one asshole after another, his tongue working frantically between licks on slick pussies and probes into tight rims. Saliva and juices smeared his mask, his jaw screaming, but he didn’t stop—couldn’t, with the massive strap-on reaming his asshole raw, stretching it wide and loose.
Each thrust pushed him forward, forcing his mouth deeper, the bitter tastes blending with the sharp pain in his gut. His tiny dick throbbed, on the edge, the public exposure amplifying every sensation, turning his degradation into a spotlight he both hated and needed.
The brunette domme grabbed his hair through the mask, yanking him to her pussy, grinding against his tongue as the towering one picked up speed, fucking him harder, the wet slaps echoing.
“Deeper with that tongue—earn this ass-fucking,” the brunette commanded, her thighs clamping around his head.
Billy obeyed, lapping and sucking, his world a blur of heat, pain, and unrelenting pleasure, the circle closing in tighter, promising more torment yet to come.
The towering domme’s hips drove forward with savage rhythm, the massive strap-on plunging deep into Billy’s stretched asshole, each thrust grinding the thick, ribbed shaft against his prostate like a hammer on an anvil. Waves of intense pleasure crashed through him, sharp and electric, overriding the burning stretch of his hole.
His chubby body jolted with every impact, soft flesh rippling, sweat slicking his skin under the relentless assault. Inside, the pressure built—a coiling heat in his gut, twisting shame and ecstasy into something unbreakable. He was nothing but a hole now, a public toy for their amusement, his micropenis bobbing uselessly between his thighs, leaking steadily onto the cold floor.
The thought humiliated him to his core, yet it fueled the fire, making his tongue work harder against the brunette’s dripping pussy, lapping up her juices as if they were his salvation.
“Take it deeper, pig,” the brunette growled, grinding her clit against his masked face, her thighs squeezing his ears until the world muffled to her musk and the wet slaps of the strap-on reaming him.
Billy’s tongue delved into her folds, sucking greedily, tasting the salty tang mixed with his own tears. But the pleasure in his ass was relentless—the dildo’s girth rubbing his prostate raw, sending jolts up his spine that made his toes curl. His breath hitched through the mask’s slit, ragged and desperate.
The redhead domme yanked his head to her asshole next, shoving his nose into the crease. “Rim me clean while she fucks you stupid,” she commanded, her voice laced with cruel delight.
Billy’s tongue probed the tight ring, circling the bitter pucker, pushing inside as far as he could while the strap-on hammered home. The grinding intensified, the silicone head battering his prostate without mercy, pleasure spiking higher, hotter.
His micropenis throbbed, tiny and pathetic, the tip flushed red and slick. He felt the crowd’s eyes boring into him—hungry, judgmental—amplifying the humiliation, his chubby ass cheeks spread wide, the dildo disappearing into his hole with obscene squelches. Shame burned his cheeks under the mask, but so did the need, the emotional pull of total submission pulling him under like a riptide.
Suddenly, the pressure snapped. The massive dildo ground hard against his prostate one final time, and Billy’s body tensed, every muscle locking as ecstasy ripped through him. His micropenis twitched uncontrollably, spurting thin ropes of cum onto the floor beneath him—pathetic dribbles from his tiny dick, splattering the concrete in milky streaks.
He moaned into the redhead’s asshole, the sound vibrating against her rim, his vision blurring with the intensity of it. Waves of pleasure pulsed through his core, his asshole clenching around the invading shaft, milking it as if it were real.
The orgasm hit him like a storm, raw and overwhelming, mixing with the pain of the stretch, leaving him trembling, exposed in his most vulnerable release. Cum leaked from him, pooling under his knees, the scent sharp and musky in the air.
The dommes erupted in cruel laughter, the sound echoing like knives.
“Look at the little-dick slut cumming from his ass alone,” the towering one sneered, not slowing her thrusts, pounding him through the aftershocks, making his spent cock jerk dryly. “No touch, no mercy—just a wrecked asshole and he’s spraying like a bitch in heat.”
The brunette pulled away, wiping her pussy on his mask before pointing down. “Lick it up, pig. Every drop of your worthless cum. Show the crowd what a desperate cum-slut you are.”
Billy’s face burned with fresh humiliation, his body still quaking from the climax, asshole throbbing around the dildo as she kept grinding slowly, teasing his oversensitive prostate.
Trembling, he lowered his head, the mask’s tight leather pressing into his cheeks as he extended his tongue to the floor. The first lap hit the warm, sticky puddle—salty and bitter on his taste buds, his own essence coating his mouth. He swallowed it down, gagging slightly, the act deepening his submission, a profound intimacy in the degradation.
The crowd’s jeers swelled, boots shifting closer, eyes devouring his broken form.
“That’s it, lap it like a dog,” the redhead barked, slapping his ass hard, the sting reigniting the fire in his cheeks.
Billy obeyed, tongue scraping the concrete, gathering every splatter, swallowing under their harsh commands.
“Faster, whore—don’t waste a bit,” the blonde added, her boot nudging his balls, making him whimper as he cleaned the floor spotless.
The towering domme finally slowed, the strap-on still buried deep, her hands gripping his hips possessively. Billy’s body sagged, exhausted yet aching for more, the weight of his full surrender crashing over him—utterly exposed, broken, but strangely whole in their control.
The circle of dommes pressed in, fingers trailing his sweat-slick skin, promising further torments. The crowd roared louder, a feral cacophony, their hunger palpable as Billy knelt there, tongue out, asshole stretched and leaking, ready for whatever came next in the throbbing heart of The BDSM Ball.
The End.
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