Chained in Ecstasy: Blindfolded Cum Feast at the Elite Loft
Craving that raw rush of anonymous gay gangbang submission? Dive into the heat. 🔥 Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Chapter 1: The Summons and the Shiver
Alex’s fingers trembled as he gripped the steering wheel, pulling up to the shadowed curb outside the sleek downtown loft. It was barely past four on a sticky Friday afternoon, the city air thick with exhaust and distant rain promises. His heart hammered like a trapped animal. Just over a week since that first brutal claiming by his mystery master—Marcus, though he’d only pieced the name together from whispers later. Online hookup turned obsession, face unseen, just pics of his wrecked hole, dripping and claimed.
His phone had lit up last night: “Loft door code: 6969. Enter. Strip bare. Blindfold on. Crawl to the center mat. Kneel. Hole greased and gaping.” No pleasantries. Alex’s slim, toned body—black hair tousled, sharp jaw shadowed—flushed hot at the memory. Twenty-eight, gym-rat desk jockey, he’d craved this edge forever. Gangbanged into oblivion? A fantasy he’d spilled to Marcus in fevered chats. Sleep evaded him, dick leaking into sheets as he edged for hours.
Now, tires crunching gravel, he killed the engine. Blue mesh thong clung damp under loose sweats, ass already lubed slick from the frantic prep shower. Steam still clung to his skin, that fresh soap scent mixing with his nervous sweat. He punched the code. Door hissed open to cool, dim air laced with leather and faint cigar smoke.
Inside, clothes shed in a heap. The blindfold—thick, padded black—sealed his world to darkness. On hands and knees he crawled, cool hardwood biting palms, thigh muscles quivering. The mat was rough under him, woven fibers scratching. Minutes stretched eternal. Then, heavy boots thudded close. A deep chuckle rumbled, animal-low.
“Good pig,” Marcus growled, voice gravel-worn from years barking orders on construction sites. Burly beast of a man, forty-five, hairy chest straining a worn tank, salt-pepper beard framing a smirk Alex couldn’t see. His crotch pouch nudged Alex’s nose—sweaty cotton bulging with thick meat. The musk hit like a drug: days-worn jock, ballsweat sharp and tangy.
The First Worship
Alex inhaled deep, tongue darting out to lap the fabric. Salty, bitter precum soaked through instantly. He nuzzled, moaning muffled, hips twitching for friction.
“Hungry slut,” Marcus muttered, grinding forward. “Taste what’s owning you tonight.” Fingers tangled in Alex’s hair, yanking his head back. Pouch dragged over lips, cheeks. Alex sucked the damp cloth, fabric pulling taut as the cock beneath throbbed.
Then, it vanished. Underwear yanked down—wet smack against skin. Hot, veiny shaft slapped his face, precum smearing like gloss. “Open wide, boy.”
Alex’s jaw dropped. The head breached, fat and leaking, stretching lips around girth. He swirled tongue, hollowed cheeks, careful—no teeth, lesson learned last time. Marcus thrust lazy at first, then deeper. Gagging reflex kicked; Alex choked, spit bubbling, but hands pinned his skull.
“Take it, fucktoy.” Deeper, balls brushing chin. Nose buried in wiry pubes, inhaling pure man-stink. Thrusts turned savage, skull-fucking rhythm building. Alex’s throat burned, eyes watering under blindfold, but bliss flooded him. Precum oozed thick down his gullet.
After endless minutes, Marcus yanked free, strings of spit dangling. “Ass up. Present that hungry cunt.”
Alex scrambled to all fours, back arched, hole clenching air. Tongue—wet, insistent—lapped his crack. Marcus ate him out sloppy, beard scraping cheeks, fingers prying folds. Alex whimpered, pushing back. “Please… fuck me, Sir.”
“Soon, pig. Others wait.”
Chapter 2: Double Stuffed Awakening
The warning barely registered before a second presence loomed. Fresh boots scuffed. Another pouch—different, smoother fabric—prodded Alex’s lips from the front. “Suck it clean, bitch,” a smoother voice drawled. Tyler, lean jock type, twenty-something trainer, dick already drooling.
Alex engulfed it blindly, bobbing frantic while Marcus’s tongue speared his ring. Twin scents mingled: Tyler’s gym-fresh sweat, Marcus’s raw musk. Then, Marcus rose. Slick knob kissed his pucker—then rammed home. No mercy. Alex howled around Tyler’s meat, the burn twisting to fire-pleasure as balls slapped taint.
“Fuck, Marc, this hole’s velvet,” Tyler groaned, feeding deeper.
“Tight for now. Wait’ll the crew breaks it.” Marcus bottomed out, grinding prostate-mashing. They synced brutal: in-out, mouth-ass pounding like pistons. Alex’s world narrowed to fullness—throat bulging, guts rearranging. Spit flew, ass queefing lube around shaft.
Ten minutes of hell-heaven. Sweat poured, dripping salty on Alex’s back. “Switch,” Marcus barked. Cocks withdrew—empty ache—but swapped fast. Tyler’s rod invaded ass, slimmer but longer, tickling depths. Marcus’s beast clogged throat, flavored with ass-juices, tangy and raw.
“Taste your slut-cunt on me,” Marcus taunted. Alex slurped greedy, hole clenching Tyler’s pistoning prick. Pace ramped—hips slamming skin-wet smacks echoing off loft beams. Grunts filled air: men’s pleasure-noises, animal-deep.
Seed Flood One
Climaxes crashed synced. Tyler yowled first, hosing Alex’s guts rope-thick, hot jets painting walls. Marcus followed, throat swelling with blasts—swallow or choke, Alex gulped frantic, cum bubbling nostrils. They slumped panting, shafts softening inside.
Door creaked distant. Footsteps multiplied. “Crew’s here,” Marcus laughed. “Round two, cumdump.”
Alex sagged, belly sloshing faint, but dick—caged? No, not yet. Throbbed untouched, leaking clear.
Chapter 3: The Horde Unleashes 🔥
New shadows swarmed the mat. Voices blurred—four, five? Gruff laughs, zippers rasping. A fat-headed prick—Ryan’s, burly trucker—jammed Alex’s mouth. Another, veiny monster belonging to Jake, pierced PA glinting unseen, prodded ass. Both girthier than before, stretching limits anew.
“Ram that pig,” someone urged. Ryan did—throat-fuck reckless, heavy balls smacking jaw. Jake mounted, piercing scraping ring as he sank balls-deep. Alex keened, body rocking between them. The loft reeked now: cum, sweat, ass-musk heavy like fog.
They drilled relentless, switching mid-fuck. Jake’s pierced meat in mouth—metallic tang of ring, cum-salt coating. Ryan’s brute force wrecked ass, farting wet each pullout. Crowd cheered low: “Breed the whore!” Hands groped—nipples twisted, balls slapped.
New scene ignited: someone yanked Alex upright, bent over a low bench dragged in. Legs spread wide. “Time for the wheel,” Marcus commanded. Cocks rotated carousel-style. Third guy—Leo, smooth Latino twink with huge curved banana—plowed ass standing. Fourth, grizzled vet named Hank, fed throat sideways.
Alex lost count. Each prick unique: tastes (precum bitter-sweet variants), girths (ripping to snug), rhythms (slow grind to jackhammer). Cumloads piled: first in ass from Leo, bubbling out sloppy; Hank blasted face under blindfold, hot ropes glazing cheeks, lips.
Glory Wall Surprise
Marcus hauled him next door—to a makeshift glory wall, plywood partition riddled holes. “New game, slut. Service the line.” Alex pressed face and ass to openings. Dicks poked through anonymous: suck one, fuck the next. Fifteen minutes blurred—eight loads? Mouth numb, jaw aching, hole farting cum-froth down thighs.
“Fuck yeah, anonymous cum dump hotel fantasy turned real,” a voice jeered through wood. Tastes mingled on tongue: piss-traces from one (salty edge), fresh-shaved smooth skin another. Touch overwhelmed—rough pubes grinding nose, callused hands slapping cheeks.
Exhaustion nipped, but horniness surged. Belly bloated, sloshing with seed.
Chapter 4: Sling Seduction and Piss Play 💋
Legs jelly, Marcus frog-marched him deeper into loft: vast playroom, chains clinking faint. “Break time? Nah.” Lifted into leather sling—cool straps cradling back, thighs, ankles splayed obscene. Hole winked upward, cum oozing pink-tinged puddle.
“Dozed off last visit. Not tonight.” Cock nudged lips—Marcus again, rigid and vengeful. Alex suckled lazy, energy fading, but revived as fingers scooped ass-cum, fed to mouth. “Eat your fill, pig.”
Behind: Tyler returned, slamming home. Sling swung rhythmic, creaking. Each thrust propelled deeper throat-stab. Sensory storm: leather creak, wet slaps, grunts echoing high ceilings. Smell intensified—cum drying crusty on skin, fresh sweat blooming.
Golden Shower Interlude
New twist: Ryan straddled chest. “Open up, toilet.” Hot stream hit tongue—piss acrid-sharp, flooding mouth. Alex gulped shocked, but submitted, swallowing gush after gush. Overflow splashed belly, pooling navel. “Marking territory,” Ryan laughed. Jake joined, hosing ass-crack, stream needling hole.
Wet-fucked next: piss-lube slicking shafts. Double penetration attempt—two pricks wrestling entry, stretching ring to tear-point. Alex screamed bliss-pain, sling thrashing. “Rip him wide!” Marcus cheered. They managed shallow, grinding twin girths, prostate pulverized.
Orgasms ripped: doubles unloading, belly swelling fuller. Piss-cum slurry leaked rivers down legs. Voice count climbed—ten men? Voices overlapping crude: “Tightest boycunt yet.” “Gonna breed pup permanent.”
Chapter 5: Endurance Marathon
Sling ride blurred hours. Rotations blurred identities. Slim twink dick rapid-fire; daddy bear slow-deep. One fisted shallow—knuckle greased, wrist-thick invading. Alex babbled: “More… wreck me…” Throat hoarse, raw from abuse.
Fresh arrivals: office bros post-happy hour, beery breath. Beers cracked audible—cans fizzing. One pissed direct into ass before fucking, bloating like enema. Cum tallied mental: twenty loads? Ass numb, perpetual full.
Dialogue crude fire: “This blindfolded gangbang slut eats dick like born for it.” “Hole’s a sewer now—sloppy seconds heaven.” Alex moaned replies: “Use me harder… cumdump forever.”
The Break That Wasn’t
Marcus paused flow briefly. “Thirsty?” Bottle pressed lips—Gatorade spiked cum? Salty-sweet. Revived, but cage clicked sudden. Cold metal locked his leaking prick—tiny, key dangling Marcus’s neck chain. “No cumming without permission.”
Resumed savage: trio at once now. Mouth, ass, hand-job on caged nub. Cage bit frustrated. Night bled to dawn—loft windows paling gray. Final rounds: weary but relentless, men filtering out spent.
Chapter 6: Dawn’s Leaking Legacy
Sling lowered gentle. Body wrecked: bruises blooming, hole prolapsed puffy rosebud, belly distended cum-balloon. Blindfold peeled at last—Marcus’s face revealed: rugged handsome, green eyes smirking. “Twenty-two cocks, pig. Most twice, some three. Videos incoming.”
Alex staggered foyer-ward, dressing shaky. Morning light stabbed. Drove home autopilot, collapsing bed slick with dried filth. Phone barrage: clips rolling in. Faceless torsos pile-driving his holes, cum-fountains, piss cascades. Cage strained futile.
Messaged Marcus: “Key, Sir?” Reply pic: key glinting teeth. “Earn round two. Blindfold stays your world.”
Alex grinned through ache. Hooked eternal. Loft feasts called—endless, anonymous bliss. 💋
Phone dropped. Sleep took him, dreams throbbing caged and full.
