The Stampede Part 5 Written by Septia. Right-Cheek gradually withdrew his cock. -Shhrrlsp- A crinkling escaping my lips mouth made cock lotion smeared over its sides. My chest slowing from the beating to a patter. The crotch moved out of my way, giving me a glance of him wiping his forehead. “Phow, That is better, anyone else need a turn?” “Tag me the heck in,” Left-Cheek smirked, looming over me as soon as their twin moved out of my field of vision. There laid damp spots one under the armpits of his t-shirt, and even as I was getting accustomed to the stench of goat musk, it ramped up in potency from the sweltering heat. “Lets get a real feel for that gullet,” he grins, and smacks his shaft onto my forehead, grinding the soaked slab down my exhausted countenance and dipping his member into the damp reaches of my maw. I lapped the tip with my tongue, swirling and tasting the leathery perspiration that surrounded it. -Thhrrwmmp- Then he thrust down, cockhead slamming at the precipice of my throat. Palms clasped my head and angling me downwards, aligned with this shaft. My vision consumed by the expanse of his thighs ahead of me, as I saw them drawn back… A faint gargle escaped my lips. -Twwwhpplch- He slammed me in to the base, balls smushing against my forehead, lips jamming against the base of his mast… and the cock plunging past the safety of my maw, into the tunnel of my throat. I felt my breathing plugged and dampened, oesophagus aching as it sprawled to accommodate the girth of the invading member. He withdrew, back just before the precipice, and sprung back in another thrust that set the tone for his rhythm. Energy channeled behind every plummet, ramming the meat down my taut tunnel, and his sack beating into my nose, covering my eyes. “Hgrlgls, ghagla.” I hawked, coughed and squirmed, my arms reflexively clinging to my chest, where I could feel it… I felt the gratuitous dome of skin rising along my neck, subsisting and swelling in tune with tithe sheaves of his crotch into me, my neck bulging taut around the vague imprint of Left-Cheek's dick. “This feels deep enough, hmm? Or are you still aching for more fresh cock?” He taunted, palms grip tightened, crotch reeling back and pounding down my neck, whisking spittle from my that collected in my cheek and funneling it down my throat in a campaign of thrusts -Twtwltp- -Twtltpshp- -Ccllpthw-. Drool splattered in arcs from my lips. I gagged and coughed, each noise interrupted and humped by another thrust. He was not about to let up. I felt his girth congesting me, the moments it remained still I could map out every pulse of the veins along his member, every stretch of skin texture warping and moulding my throat to its desired dimensions. My nostrils flared and grasped desperately for air, my legs crossing and folding, arms gripping and reaching around the though, feeling towards Left-Cheek's thighs. -Slpsltsh- Snot heaved out expelled from my nostrils in my quest for a breath, head pulsating, the throbs of my oxygen deprived mind, dollops of nasal phlegm and oodles of drools oozing down my face and lobbed off in the beaster's thrust. The camera got close to me, following the visage of their fag slut devolving into a scrambling, flailing mess, with only my head remaining tightly in place by Left-Cheek's grasp. “Glrmgms, hrawpl.” I gargled, my throat reverberating around the massive bulge sloughing down my down my neck, each smack into me splattering more drool across his scrotum and all about my face. My cough and heaves drenching the mast in harked back snot and drool, the gel coated thruster reeling out as it entered again the goo collected in plump droves scraped off against my lips, building up like molten wax that rattled in his advance and swirled their way down my cheek to pull over the couch and splatter against the floor. Control of my body was fading, I grabbed a hold of the couch tight, steeling myself whilst each thrust continued to arc pain through my frame, and ravage my uvula… My gag reflex could only handle so much. I felt breakfast churning in my stomach, flung in and rotated to turn my gut into a washing machine, one without a proper lid. I felt the porridge tossing propulsion upwards, a caustic mockery that plunged up through my oesophagus. “Mgmr, glglsp, lpghraaaglshg,” I hurled, much of the oncoming stream plunged back down from the cock's advances, but even this plug couldn't halt the drain from the oncoming storm. My maw filled with vitriol sludge which erupted from through the thinner gaps between cock and lips to a projectile of vomit. It gushed forth onto Left-Cheek's crotch, and billowed out of my face. -Tttwmpsplgh- His thrust didn't skip a beat. And showing his member down my puke filled throb heaved up a shock wave of the vitriol grunge up through my mouth, only high enough to immediately make impact with my face and sprawl into a congealed mire along my features. The sludge consistent primarily of porridge, granular slop tinted in a range of amber from my previous spicy dishes, chunks of fruits from the raw raw jam decorated the partially dissolved gunk, gleaming as gemstones in the chunky bile erupting from my mouth. It piled around my mouth, raising high with its end sloughing along with ties sluggish, glutinous form. “Glgb ghrjpsah,” I continued to cough up blobs of vomit, bubbling over my face. The goat thrusted with further gusto groan his nostrils flaring in elevated adrenalin, teach plunged of his mast smoushing out the bile across my face, each retraction bring up new mire to the dunes around my mouth, to then smear them out again the subsequent hump. The up chucked gruel crawled along my face, feeling steaming texture of the gunk to bulldoze across my face. The rolling dunes of puke came to slough over my face causing my flails and struggles to ramp up. I kicked and waved, reaching to grab a hold of Left-Cheek's thighs. My head was pulsing, and heart racing, the flinging of the vomit, the breath growing thin, my body revolting, and my throat assaulting even as it brewed and boiled with heaves of chocking, coagulating clay. My gullet warped in a series of bloats, the cock venturing down my oesophagus, and the bile pumping its way upwards. -Smsmtahc- Left-Cheek's balls smacked into my face, a fountain of puke cascading around the impact, clearing the puke from my around my eyes, though I didn't dare opening them, feeling more churned up through my maw and drooling down my face, the yellowed sloppy porridge encasing my head in its raw, stinging filth. My heartbeat… slowing. -Fhlrlspltlsth- He fished out his shaft from the deep reaches of my thraot, groaning and wiping vomit off his dick. My lips instinctively closed, then my lips bulged outwards and burst open in a surge of grime, with my heard leaning over the couch edge it arched onto the floor, drooling up my forehead and drippling through my hair toward. My tongue lolled out, as I gasped for air, swallowed vomit and coughed it up again, my face masked behind the gellating, sloppy gut mucous. My senses began to normalize, snorting out globs of vomit from my nostrils and feeling tremble rush out through my body. Then, a shadow loomed over me. -Splprth- I felt the familiar press of goat cheeks resting against my face, puke smeared against it. A tremble through my chin. -Ppfprhhrrrlwlwpth- A storm of stench flushed through the cheeks, the reeking fog hosing over down my head, blowing off a crown of collected puke off of my face, heavy chunks flung and soon slopping into the floor, whilst the liquid blasted off in all directions. I heard the jeering laughter from the rest of the Stampede, as I was left with the lingering odour of putrid colon fermentation, burnished salt and infused rubber. The stink crawling in tendrils of repulsive odour down my nostrils and gluing themselves into my olfactory organs. I had a resistance against my own vomit's stench, though once it tangled and warped with the raw goat flatulence, it assaulted me twice over, letting me experience the caustically sour gruel all over, spiced up by a gale fresh from Left-Cheek's colon. My head slumped back, exhausted, handing halfway out of his flank. A palm grasped me, shuffled me back up to the couch, so he could rest his weight on me. “Mfmmw, what a filthy fag, can't be confident in himself yet if he craves cock so much, and then whemfms, when he gets his wish he just barfs all over.” He ground his cheeks over me, sweeping them up and down, forcing me in the between the smooch, muscular buns, he brushed and pasted the muck over my face with each sweep, rushing to slather my face in my own mess, which putters and -Shthsplrsgh- crinkled under the weight of his rump. He pried his cheek back. -Fpprbrbrsltlsh- Unleashing a puff of residual gas, clearing off a patch of vomit from my face, replacing it with a patch of condensing fart fumes. I had to breathe in all the stench, my throat convulsing for a clean breath, making sure I tasted the deranged concoction of puke and exhaust all the way down my gullet. -Scllrlsths- Short tethers of grime formed and burs between his cheeks and mine as he rose stepping off meme and joining the group within a delightful guffaws. My limbs twitched my lungs burdened, and my heart racing… Leash grabbed the leash tight, beginning to pull… when Boss placed his hand over him to stop it. He shook his head, walking up to the couch, hawking up a glob of spit and launching it between my eyes. -Spsptlsh- The slick fluid drooled over my vomit spread eyelids, clearing off some of the grime. Enough for me to open one eye. I saw him standing above me, eyes darting over my frame in scrutiny. He stepped up on the couch, positioned my head against the arm rest, and squatted to plant his ass onto me. -Slslpths- A small smear of the displaced grime rippled between us. His palm grasping my hair, jostling me into position, as I heard his other palm busy tending to his shaft, I had seen the cock dangling, just before he sat down it had grown, though remained primarily flaccid. “I expect you can still provide some satisfactory tongue relief for a butthole, that won't be a problem, will it?” he wondered. I took a few moments to breathe. Briny, stale taffy tinted air of his sweaty cheeks, they parted and clamped onto me without issue, though the firm brawn they held I gave me the impression of being caught in a steel vice. I moistened my lips, slurping off some vomit and swallowing, so my tongue would be clear, as I let it sneak its way through to his brim, lapping and soaking into the rugose folds of flesh of his brim, before I wedged inwards, spearing thought the pucker and into his ass. “Mmfs, adequate…” He admitted. I wedge my head deeper, smooshing my drool brush deeper, piercing in and swirling past the reaches into the reaches of the rectum, My ma lips planted in a warm kiss over his pucker, as my tongue danced, revolving, smearing and lapping round and round feeling out the folds in the rectum and letting my tongue play again along them, trailing drool over sensitive tissue and jabbing it in when en I felt a pleasure point. I wondered If I had found his prostate, tongue sloughing over it, sweeping into it smushing in and massaging his flesh all as my drool trickled from my lips, joining the rivers of vomit trailing down between both our cheeks. “Mmfr, gfms,” Boss huffed through flared nostrils, clutching his cock in a tight hold, throbbing in his grasp. “Mmfm, that is a mrm, dedicated bugger,” Brawn mumbled as he saw the passionate reaction. “Slut got gusto in droves if he is still making boss drool after all this…” Lens gave a low whistle in response. The tension in the room grew thicker, spicy with urges blooming from watching Me serve them with such dedication. I heard the beat their cocks out there, only urging me on to improve, drawing my tongue in and out of Boss's rectum, feeling the undulating clamps of the rim warping around my tongue, my smooching coming to sooth it as I pierced my tongue into this quaking depths. Boss’s breathing shifted into huffing scoffs, grating his checks over my head, the buns molding along my face as much as they forced my head to compact around their weight. He gestured for Lens to move in, and let out a warm sigh. “Here you go…,” voiced, tone shifting deep with a polished edge of menace cutting through his words, “some proper payment for a disgusting faggot.” He cupped his sack off of and hoisted it off of my face, raising his cheeks a cent off of my face, the camera getting a good shot of my head framed between his thighs… -Grrllgsh- --Ppwfhhrrrlrlwprth- a bombastic bout buckshot of a fart crashed into my face, tithe fumes flowing and right through the rectum, parted by my tongue still lodged within it – a rudder for the reeking air currents. The cascade from billowing from his anus and sweeping in a The gas dripping of pickled pepper and expired hay, an amplified sample of the residue my tongue picked up from his crack and colon. It came like a bash of smelling salt, in a moment I was awake, alert, feeling the impact flush vomit off of my face and sprinkling in all directions, soaking onto the couch, droplets sprinkled right onto the camera onto the camera lens, drippling down in a yellow streak of fart infused porridge. The blast siphoned much into my open maw placed right below ground zero, the flavourful odour soaking and crawling over my taste buds… Though… In this, moment of clarify from the stench, it felt like my brain could better process everything around me, connect events and emotions. Making me truly experience the full force of the fart. Which…was tolerable. It was, still a new feeling, and the taste made me gag and spit, muffled by the awkward placement of my tongue… though the peppery brine felt… fine. I smacked my lips a bit around it, slowly breathing it in, tasting. My body rejected it, though it instead of pure disgust, I felt it an… Acquired taste, like a fermented fish dish or a shady foreign cheese… I would need more to know understand how I felt about it. The thought making me sweat. I… really craved more of their farts… Lens peered up to Boss. “Think the fag might be thirsty after all this? We have been going at it for quite a while.” Boss huffed. “A capital suggestion.” He hoisted himself off of me, tong my tongue drooling free form his brim stretching to try and reach it again. He turned, and slumped down onto his knee's legs confining me in place. “Fitting moment for bathroom break.” I didn't quite comprehend what he was saying, mind still arguing with itself about the flavour we were exposed to, and once I realised, the golden arch was already trailing through the air towards me. -Sprlrltsh- It first hit my upper lip, droplets splattering into my nostrils, and soiling it with raw pungency, before the stream properly aimed down my awed open maw. A splatter of its tepid torrent pelted along my tongue and collected at the base of my throat. The stream grew to a torrent, the beam of liquid denting my upper maw as I through its sheer projected force. “You aren't to swallow any of it, await my signal.” “How are you holding up as a toilet fag, huh?” Muzzle interjected, and the beasters chuckled amounts themselves, moving closer to see my face scrunching up in different expressions. Again my breath was tested. I held my breath, gargling now and then as the urine surface rose, up my cheeks, swelling them out gradually. This felt, easy in comparison to chugging don a full cock, but it happen so close to one another was draining. I -Sprrllspts- The pouring and splattering of the amber fluids echoed in my head, more and more oft the spicy gas burst washing away under a homogeneous carpet of copper tinged coped up pungency, tart flavour that cleansed my pallet as my maw filled — becoming not only their toy, but urinal. “Do not dare swallow.” I shuddered at the command, keeping myself still, enduring, though the bitter flavour ramped in concentration the more which accumulated. I counted the seconds, impressed he could hold the stream steady for so long. It trickled and fluctuated to splutter down my cheeks, then gushing through my hair. Once the surface to murky piss brushed up to my lips… I faltered, coughing up a fountain of piss, splashes of urine drooling down my cheeks as the turbulent waves from my contracting throat sent a lot of the fluids flying. “Keep it down, Lens wants a close up and so do I.” I hawked, bubbles foaming up in the that the surface of yellow. Lens moved in, The camera panning over my face from many angles, capturing the reservoir of piss, the mixture of sweat, drool and vomit caking my head, and the mess sprawling around me on the cough. The streams and indents from both Boss and Left-Cheek's flanks laid visible in the indents and molds of the sludgy puke. Glistening ad reflecting the florescent tubing above, I could catch a glimpse of my reflection in the glass… I thought I wouldn't recognize myself after all the abuse. Worse: I did. “Tsk,” Right-Cheek shook his head, “like the lone rag left to clean up a bender. “Surprising his hair is only, mostly, gunked up,” Leash admitted. Muzzle patted the back of his palm against my cheek, watching the vomit ripple. “Can't remember last time I saw a faggot, this ruined.” Boss sighed and leaned in closer. I could see his mast, raised stiff, as he nourished the erection with well timed tugs. “Three… swallow…” he commanded, voice exact and spearheading ruthlessness. I gargled weakly. -Wmsmpthc- His cock slapped into me, swatting me from the side, splashing off clumps of throw up in its wake. It was stiff now… a firm baton, and he hit me again, ramming it across my face in the other direction. -Ttwmspth- “Swallow my urine for the camera, long, big gulps,” he accentuated, and battered me again -Stmtpah- this time I felt a cock shape ache pulsating over my cheek. I chugged, quivered, nose flaring as I tried to concentrate, his battering continuing, to the slow, building cheer of the beasters around me. Like a fraternity patron marvelling at someone downing ludicrous volumes of alcohol. -Grhrlsltpsh- The surface lowered, as another smack sent a splattering wave surging about my maw, the urine level depleted. -Sgtlsp- -Gltptsh- Another strained swallowed, my body was eager for air, yet my chest pumping in effort of swallowing it all whilst flat on my back and pummelled by a sweaty meat baton. -Glrlspgh- -ghapahaa- The reeking piss sank through my gullet. I felt a faint bulge warping its way down my neck, vanishing under my chest… The airway laid bare ones more. My torso heaved in shaking gasps, nursing oxygen from my surroundings. He smacked into me again, creasing into my temple, flinging shards of vomit flying in a volley from my head. The smack transitioned into a gentle drag of his mast across my face, brushing and swabbing through the meanings of filth decorating me. Seeing I swallowed the final gulp of piss, the ramping groans erupted into a cheer. The beasters genuine in their joy and guffawing, despite me being uncertain just how the cheerfulness was directed. I closed my eyes, breathing slowing to a secure pace, then peering up, focusing, drinking in the visage of Boss's grin. The air filtered through the funnel of piss that was my throat, tasting the coppery funk. I tasted it down my lungs, and felt it infiltrate through my veins. The presence of the Boss only heightening the experience. He rose his muzzle, and gestured for Leash to move in. “Would you give me a hand clogging the fag's throat again?” It would not have been much longer before I did myself.” He grinned. The two beasters presented their thick meat hoses, looming above me as a shadow of their long muzzles. -GKkrlgk- I swallowed, peering up to Boss, who merely looked at me. I brushed my exhaustion to the side and let my jaw hang open again. His look telling in its lack of patience. I parted my lips to hold my maw open wide. “That is more like it” Leash said and aimed his shaft towards me. He sighed as he unleashed a torrent of urine, colliding with my forehead and the stream of fluids forcing down vomit caked over my forehead down my face, the droves looming piss drenched over my eyes for long enough time to let me shut them -Spllstsh- eyelids plastered over with gunk as the beam travelled up and into my maw, cutting short off just moments after. “Leash,” Boss said, “your aims is as jerky as you handle your namesake.” “Public restrooms always end up a filthy dump, I might as well own it.” “If that is all the skill you wish you showcase,” Boss noted and cocked up his shaft, I heard the sprout of amber fluid arching through the air, and the resulting urine hitting me squarely in the maw, feeling the concentrated stream of urine down my throat. I gave out a few harsh coughs -Chhrsalgaf- as the stream poured and pooled at he back of my maw, following my heads shivers to keep hitting the square center, and then… the stream cut off with a thin splatter. There wasn't a drop spilled. Boss smiled at Leash. “Oh, I see how it is,” he responded in a tone blended of a playful demeanour and jesting competition. Leash let his valves open for another stream, the citrine beam rippling through the air and splattering at my Left-Cheeks before being contained in the clasp of my lips. I panted and cawed as the mingling fluids mixed and plugged up my neck again, nostrils flaring and occasionally inhaling specks of spicy, acidic barf, singing at the back of my throat. “Haa, I did need this,” Leash sighed as his stream tapered off, and Boss's resumed. The two traded turns with one another, always one piping hot length of piss to pour down my maw, clogging it up and letting the yellow surface rise along my cheeks and drown my taste buds in bladder matured oodles of liquid sulfur. -Pprrhrslslsh- -Rchclcooclco- The streams endings came with ripples along the surface, droplets of urine splashed up and soaking down my my inner cheeks in the mire of stenches I felt the prominence of wilted broccoli, meatier than Boss's urine on its own. The steam billowed up from the mouth sustained pee arch, venting in into my brain through desperate nostrils. Them taking turns allowed them to gaze down and see just how much each spurt filled, how much I struggled to hold it own, if my neck wobbled or convulsed from swallows. Though I managed to keep the reservoir going Brawn moved in next to Leash, rubbing the tip of his flaccid member. “Hope you don't mind, I have to use the little bitch room.” I hear another splurt come, and a third beam of hot, orange fluids flushed down my maw, the force of the hot waste fluids radiating through the lake and warming up my swelling cheeks. He joined the rotation of pissing, my chest heaving and constricting as my breath siphoned by the pool of pure pungency mixing together in my mouth. The filth of each torrent complimenting one another to weave new flavour needles pricking injections of filth into my tastebuds. The collective pool of three hot beasters' bladders accumulating in my maw, and marinading my tongue, unable, constrained under the weight of the lake yellow lake. The stale air of old gum and solidifying saliva, zest of spoiled oranges and the meaty tinged copper swirled and fermented together to a whine of depravity, ageing in the airy confines of my maw. -Srllslsplth- I didn't feel any stream resuming for a long wile, and the surface sat at the beneath my lips, swelling with foam. -Trrlslslspsh- Another bream trickled and spread out the foam to cling to my lips, soaking and gluing into them with its gellant nature, the murky gush letting the piss po stew raise higher up along my lips, and come to a rest first when it balanced on the tip of my brim, aching wobbles threatened to spill the steamy piss. “Pff, would you look at that, standing urinal to three beasters at once… the sick trash just lets it happen and basks in it. Right, huh? Does all this taste sweet and succulent for a nasty garbage faggot like yourself?” Muzzle asked me, giving my thigh a smack. I only laid there, nostrils flaring, shaking. Boss leaned down, I heard his voice cents away from my face the vomit restricting me from opening my eyes. “Answer him, would you not?” “Grlgmms, gmmsfm,” I groan, a few bubbles raising up a little swallow -Ghllrpgm- allow me to nod my head a yes The beasters surrounding the couch stem up in a menacing chuckle. Boss kept his muzzle close. Brawn's voice boomed near. “What does our little fag enjoy the most, drinking liters of piss or gurgling gallons of farts?” A jolt went down my spine. This question, gave me context for how far I had gotten since this morning. Even with my previous watching habits, I wouldn't have considered either option seriously. Today, it was a relevant query. I laid soaked in piss, caked in my own vomit, and choking down on three beasters' piss. I tried moving my lip, feeling a sudden, hot droplet trickle down my cheek from the shudder. Answering more than an implied yes or no was out of my realm for the moment. Boss shook his head, and, slurped over his finger, and reached down my temple, dragging it a trail of his fresh, lukewarm spittle down my cheek. “Gargle loudly if you want to savour another fart, trashy dick latrine.” I shuddered, waves coursing in the yellow lake in my mouth. I was about to answer when I realised what this meant… I was, blinded, on my back, at the mercy of seven horny beasters… and I was considering gargling on their piss for a chance to get myself blasted in foetid fumes from their rears. The sheer, blatant disregard and humiliation. I had hit a new low of embarrassment… The new low which by now had shifted below the bottom, enough to be a spelunking voyage. The drive to answer was burning a hole in my chest. “Ghhrlrllffwrrllrth.” I gurgled, gargled. Goo welled through the lake of piss, boiling up quickly dissolving bubbles from, carrying the ends of my enthusiasm from my gullet and spreading down my cheeks as trails of buoyant saliva drooling down the edges. Foam drizzled as my groan echoed between the walls, despite the handicap of a clogged mouth hole. The camera zoomed in on me, lips thrashing with piss washing over them, my eyes coated in dunes of barf, blind acceptance. It panned along my form, as I gargled and churned the piss choking me into a joy-fuelled desire to be abused all the more. Despite deprived of such agency, I wanted more from them, begging through the previous punishments to reach them… The room, went quiet. Once the gargle concluded, there was no laugh, or cackle and teasing. There were just, seven pairs of eyes watching in disbelief. There was a sense of stolen breath over them, mouth lips moving, though no sentence properly forming. “The faggot…,” Left-Cheek mumbled. “Really did that…,” Right-Cheek completed, the twins simultaneously biting down on their lips. My lack of vision enhanced my other senses; when I listened to the silence, I could hear the crack between them all… the click of a realization snapping into being. The collective understanding that I wouldn't hold didn't want them to hold back, that I was not about to cave under their torment, but embrace it, and allow them to unleash all they had on me… I could, feel, the beasthood grow thick, buff, and rigid as steel. Eager and vehemence plumed forth to saturate the air, and amongst all of them, I could only hear… one… faint… chuckle… “Our cocks are dining on a fine dish tonight.” l felt boss shuffle around me, moving in closer, this musk increasing in potency as his crotch neared my face again. My chest scrunched together, locked in gleeful disbelief that was really begging for this to happen, but aching in desire every moment it wasn't happening. -Ppfwdt- I felt his rump rest over onto my face, cheeks cleaved by my nose, lodged into the crack, where where it briefly brushed against his butthole – returning me to the banquet hall, and preparing to serve me another batch of fluttering fog. “Just gonna give it to him?” Right-Cheek asked, “make him work for it.” Boss smiled, “I presume you heard them, and by know, you should be well in formed about how to 'work it'.” Hands clasped into fist. Then I reached up, my muscles aching, reverberating through to my fingers that teetered and wobbled through the air, steadying myself on the pronounced camel cock. I shuddered, it was solid diamond. I let it go for a moment, unable to process it, it was taut as a drumskin, stuffed and throbbing… and I had helped it reaches that point. My fingers curled back over the shaft, one per heartbeat, and clutching the steel beam of a dick. I brushed my palms up and down, tempo ramping up, pouring my remaining vigour into jerking off the camel perched on my head as If I was a toilet. I felt the cock growing in my grasp, the pulsations of his meat coursing back through my arms, nestling in my spine. Boss smirked and over time, the curled lips warped as I worked him off, morphing into a grin laden with sadistic glee. He leaned back gently, grinding and kneading into his stomach rousing up the liquid squelches and broil of roiling muck and gasses -Ghrlwlplglgshths-. It came to a head at his butthole, pinching back before it belched forth -Bbrrrfflflflp- A potent, rumbling huff of flatulence. Droplets of pee splashed up from my maw and traversed along his crack, a sampling of the tart, moulded air clinging to the foamy surface of urine. A current snuck its way into my nostril, rewarding me with a virulent taste that singed into my skin. And I sucked it in like a pig… This was the reward I had begged for, so poorly articulated with my mouth stuffed stuffed. I wanted more, though all I could respond with a faint gurgle-… Boss's palm grasped at the back of my head, flushing my face tighter into his crack, cramming me p in the expanse of musk and sweat, brim aimed straight into my lips. … - -PPWrrffrrrbbgglgltstth- A gigantic storm of butt fog stormed through his rippling butthole, the gale of flatulence piercing down through the lake of mixed amber, forcing it out of the way to reach my taste buds and plaster them in the fermented foulness of brine and wine marinaded tobacco. A gush of piss flushed out through my lips and coursed up his crack, curling along the front of his crack in a thin stream. Then the odour clawed its way through my nostril, where the stench percolated and distilled into a spiky alcohol distilled form the condensed flatulence. The eruption overwhelmed me, my sensed revolted. -Ghurrllalpagh- My throat contracted, and then swelled wide as vomit billowed up my neck. -Frslslssh- Everything was ejected, flushed straight up Boss's crack; a jet of bladder juice soared in an arch over us. I heard it pelting the floor and scattering against the wall. -Hghllgpssh- Then sludge followed… porridge barf projected up his crack, flinging up the same reversed slope as the urine, right above my face Boss's crack channelled a rainbow of my puke, creasing through the air and slumping down in numerous clumped bundles wherever it la impacted. I felt the burning in my throat, the ache of it filled again, and the heat radiating from the slurry as it passed a thumb in front of my face. Throughout the uniform slow of pearl and grey were veins of purple and ruby gel, mangled and melted berry and fruit chunks embedded in my churning breakfast providing a dash of colour to the rampant display of depravity. -Slglpgush- Lots of it tumbled aback onto my face, wiped off as the stream slowed down adding a fresh layer over the previous congealed bile. Where I could feel every little bubble popping and the muck sprawling to gradually encase my face. Lens whistled twice. The beasters shared groans of surprise and amazement… Boss leaned back, cackling as the filth arc tapered out aback over my face. -Shhrrlsp- I moved off of my face, stroking his shaft and feeling the muddy clasp of his cheeks smacking together, glued with my bile. “How a simple, cock and ass slut continually surprise me is just, magnificent.” He grasped his scrotum taut. I was gasping in breath though nose and maw alike, needing it after suffering through it for so long. “Oggmpsgsh,” only to feel his balls smacked into my lips, he pushed them in, my lisp wrapping and around them, but they just kept going, stretching me further and further. My eyes tearing up under the vomit, and my pleads muffled as the massive sack plunged down my maw -Sppspsthsp- with a solid, sludgy pop lubricated by the waves of vomit cast through my lips. -Ahhrrslch-Pthwi- Boss spat on me, hawking up clumps of phlegm and spittle to pelt me, as he rattled his balls through my maw, battering it into shape. The girth was wide enough to be felt down my jawbone, and it was creaking in ways I hadn't experienced before. My cock matched Boss's now… “Come on tell the camera, say how much you love his farts.” “Profess your adoration for them.” “Keep sucking his balls.” The beasters around me called out, I mumbled weakly, lisp accustomed to suckling and slurping so it took a bit to find the words, and saying them… “Othsgm Hwlgpve yshowu bawawslls.” “Mmm, louder,” Boss hummed, even in the rousing chaos of his crew, he remained in control. “Ah Whoul Yhrr Fhhrts.” I gargled out with my lips arching from the trembles of speaking and clinging around the scrotum. The murky laughter roared through the room. My maw took a pummelling from the inside bt Boss's jewels, forcing me scrubbing down vomit and forcing me to swallow it it down, all whilst curling and slobbering my tongue over them, cleaning them up of residual beast piss and chunky globules of past-porridge. -Shhstpltpso- The sack smacked out of my face, the pop of them reverberating through the room, my head slumping back into the armrest, breath gasping and siphoning oxygen as hard is it could. -Chhtgk- Then I felt a palm, at my rear, fingers digging into my ass, sandwiching the buns together in a sturdy vice. I recognized Brawn's burly fingers… He hoisted me up by the ass, in the next moment the world revolved around me, vomit blocking out my vision as I was tossed to the ground, tumbling on the rubber flooring and leaving faceprints of barf in my path. Once I came to a stop, I slumped on my back, spluttering out throw up and feeling my muscles shake. For a few moments, their laughing felt so far away. Someone begun to unwind the leash snagged around my arm, I hear -Sllsptsh- sticky drags of slimy moisture from the bile clasping it against my skin. “Such a deplorable mess…” Leash snickered, and tugged so my collar clasped around my undulating throat. I shuffled up in the guidance of the leash, sitting upwards, huffing, clumps of barf winding down my face like wax, most of it clinging to me in a plastered mask of vitriol, encasing the foul odours stuck in my nose, trapping me in a smells cape of a ruined acidic wastelands. I heard the whirr of the camera positioned in front of me, taking close up of my ruined face. Zooming in on the grooves of grime glued to my face, the splotches of colour from jam, and my brown tufts of hair slicked back and smeared to my skull by heat and moisture. I heard the clapping of hooves, one by each side of me. Both grabbed one of my arms, I stayed limp, showing no resistance as they guided my palms to their crotches… I clasped my fingers around them, tugging, pumping in a steady pace, feeling the pumps of the cocks resonating with my own heartbeat. I didn't even know who I was jerking off… I didn't seem to matter, lust and instinct ruled me, though by the touch of texture and heft being similar, I could guess it was the twins. “Mmrg, oh yeah you bundle of trash, you'd jerks us off from a trash bin if we tossed you out with the same vigour.” “The most garbage Faggot mfms, aoaha yeah.” The voices confirmed it. My lower cheek and chin were mostly free of vomit, globules drippled down my lips, giving it all the appearance of a sacrificial mask painted onto my skin, one without eye holes, and still setting. I felt a smack against my shoulder. “Having the time of your life?” Lens asked, his tone focused, on point, though compared to before… there was a seed of delight. I nodded, feeling droplets whisked off my face as I did. “Mind giving the camera a recap of the day's adventures up to this point? Hmm?” The question stumped me. So many of my synapses adjusting and rerouteing for preserving breath and fine motor skill rhythm. Time awareness delegated in rank, to the point I did not feel… warranted, to answer him. I had been running on a fuel of two parts adrenaline a three parts unfathomable lust for so long, I couldn't put the day together. Events had not taken place one after another, it was just a blur, a bowl of wish fulfilment dumped onto my head all at once. I thought about the camera, how long I was just huffing, panting as they waited for an answer. The jerking slowed, as I dug deeper. “I… licked your balls, I suckled and slurped them and gobbled them up like lollipops,” as I said this, I heard Lens biting his lip, nostrils flaring as he adjusted the camera. I was on the right track and the sheer humiliation ravaged my nerves. “I a-ate our your buttholes, s-sucked cocks, g-got beaten by cocks h-hard ones, licked up your sweat, and g-got to drink your piss and e-eat your farts.” I heard someone step up behind me, leaning in close, lips cents away from my cheek. “You like munching on our butt oles? How did out assholes taste, fagboy?” Muzzle sneered. I gasped in breath, feeling my lungs just… lacking the energy to properly contribute. After several heaves I wheezed… “Amazing.” my gullet shaking, and my torso rattling as I spoke, eventually huffing out. “Your assholes tastes Amazing.” I kept up the rhythm of the strokes, diverting more of my energy to it as the lama to my left shifted back- -Ahhrcch-Phhito- and chucked another glob of spit right in my face. It felt cool and pleasant, rolling own along the ridge between vomit and skin. Lens moved closer. “But what did you enjoy about it so much? Tell us all about it fag.” At the end of the sentence came a little chuckle, it was deeper than I had imagined, I couldn't have picked it out from the crowd earlier. “What do you adore so much about our assholes? Hmm?”