The Ambush

The front door clicked shut, and for the first time in a week, the apartment was truly quiet. My girlfriend, Sarah, was on a plane to Chicago for a five-day conference, leaving me and her younger sister, Mia, to hold down the fort. Mia was a freshman at the nearby college, and our place was a godsend for her, saving her from the noisy dorms.

She was a younger, wilder version of Sarah. Same dark hair, but hers was always a bit messy, like she’d just rolled out of bed. She had a rebellious energy that Sarah had long since outgrown, and she wore it in her ripped jeans and band t-shirts.

On her third night here, she found me on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through my phone. She stood in the doorway to the living room, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“Hey,” she started, a little too casual. “So, a few of my friends were wondering if they could come over tonight. Just to hang out. We’ll be quiet.”

I didn’t even look up from my phone. “No way, Mia. Your sister would kill me. No parties.”

“It’s not a party! It’s just… a gathering. A few people. We’ll order pizza.”

“Still no.”

I heard her sigh dramatically. I could feel her eyes on me. “Come on. Please? I’ll be so bored.”

“I’m not your babysitter, and I’m not getting in trouble with your sister. The answer is no.”

There was a long silence. I thought she’d given up, but then she spoke again, her voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper.

“I’ll do anything.”

That made me look up. She was leaning against the doorframe, one arm crossed over her chest, but her eyes held a challenging glint. “Anything?” I asked, my own voice dropping to match hers.

She nodded slowly, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. “Anything you want.”

My heart started to beat a little faster. This was a terrible idea. A spectacularly bad idea. But the thought was already there, planted and taking root. I set my phone down on the cushion next to me.

“Prove it,” I said.

She didn’t hesitate. She pushed off the doorframe and walked towards me, her movements slow and deliberate. She stopped right in front of the couch, and then knelt on the floor between my knees. Her hands came to rest on my thighs, and I could feel the warmth of them through my jeans.

“Is this proof enough?” she asked, her eyes locked on mine.

I just nodded, unable to speak.

Her fingers fumbled with my belt, then the button on my jeans. I lifted my hips as she pulled them down, along with my boxers. My cock sprang free, already hard from the sheer audacity of the moment.

Mia’s eyes went wide. A soft, involuntary gasp escaped her lips. She just stared for a second, her mouth slightly agape.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, her gaze fixed on me. “I… wow.”

She reached out a tentative hand, wrapping her fingers around the base. Her fingers didn’t even touch. She looked from my cock back up to my face, her expression a mixture of shock and awe.

“Sarah never… I mean, I knew you were… but fuck. You’re so thick.”

She leaned in then, her warm breath ghosting over the tip before she took me into her mouth. The sensation was electric. She was enthusiastic and a little clumsy, but it didn’t matter. She moaned around me, the vibration sending a jolt straight up my spine.

She pulled back for a second, a string of saliva connecting her lips to my tip. “God, I can barely get my mouth around it,” she said, her voice husky. “It’s so fucking thick. I knew you had to be big, but this is… this is insane.”

She went back to work, her head bobbing in my lap, her hands stroking what she couldn’t fit. She kept muttering between licks and sucks, a running commentary of disbelief. “So thick… I can’t believe how thick you are… feels so heavy…”

The sheer worship in her voice, the constant praise, was pushing me to the edge faster than I wanted. I could feel the pressure building, an undeniable tide.

“Mia,” I warned, my voice tight.

She just moaned and took me deeper, her tongue swirling around the head. That was it. I came with a groan, my body tensing as I spilled into her mouth. She took it all, her eyes fluttering shut as she swallowed.

When she finally pulled away, she was breathing heavily. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked up at me, a triumphant, satisfied smirk on her face.

“Okay,” she said, her voice a little raspy. “Your friends can come over.”

I just lay there, spent and stunned, as she stood up and sauntered back towards her room, leaving me to process the fact that I had just crossed a line I could never uncross.

Chapter 2

The bass from the cheap speaker was a steady heartbeat in the small living room. Jessica and Tara were sprawled on the floor, a tipsy tangle of limbs and laughter, surrounded by the evidence of our impromptu party. My secret, however, was buzzing in my head, louder than the music.

“Okay, that’s it,” Jessica declared, pointing a Dorito at me. “You’ve had that ‘I just got away with murder’ look on your face for an hour. Spill it. What did you say to Brian to let us have this much fun?”

Tara leaned in, her eyes wide. “Yeah, M. You said you’d do anything. Don’t leave a girl hanging.”

I took a deliberate swig of my beer, setting the bottle down with a click. I let them stew for a moment, savoring the power. “Oh, I did what I promised,” I said, a slow, wicked grin spreading across my face. “I did him a favor.”

They both gasped.

“You didn’t!” Jessica shrieked, covering her mouth.

“I did,” I confirmed, leaning in conspiratorially. “And girls, I have to tell you. My sister has been dating a fucking unicorn.”

I lowered my voice. “It’s not just big. It’s… inhuman. Like something out of a myth. I wrapped my hand around it, and my thumb and my fingers weren’t even close to touching. The girth… I thought my jaw was going to dislocate.”

“Holy shit,” Tara whispered, her eyes glazed over with a mix of shock and lust.

“Are you serious?” Jessica asked, looking genuinely impressed. “That’s not a dick, that’s a weapon of mass destruction.”

“He’s passed out on the couch right now,” I continued, feeling a dangerous thrill course through me. “And I was thinking… a discovery like that shouldn’t be kept to ourselves. It should be… appreciated. Up close.”

A slow, mischievous smile mirrored my own on Jessica’s face. “Mia, you’re a genius. What’s the plan?”

Twenty minutes later, fueled by liquid courage and a shared, wicked purpose, we were creeping into the dark bedroom. Brian was dead to the world, snoring softly on his back, a perfect picture of vulnerability. It was pathetically easy. We worked in silent, giggling synchrony. While I looped soft scarves around his wrists, Jessica and Tara gently held his arms, securing them to the wooden headboard. We did the same with his ankles, spreading his legs just enough to be tantalizing.

I flicked on the small bedside lamp. The soft light roused him. His eyes blinked open, clouded with sleep, then snapped to sharp, confused focus. He tried to sit up, but his hands were caught. He looked from his bound wrists to his feet, then to the three of us standing over him. The shift from confusion to pure, unadulterated panic was beautiful to watch.

“What the fuck is this?” he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.

“Relax, Brian,” I said, perching on the edge of the bed and patting his thigh like he was a nervous puppy. “We’re just playing a little game. And you’re going to be a good sport and do everything we say. Unless, of course, you want me to give Sarah a play-by-play of what happened on this couch before her friends came over.”

The color drained from his face. He yanked at the restraints, his muscles flexing, but it was no use. He was trapped. He knew it.

“That’s what I thought,” I purred. With a theatrical flourish, I grabbed the blanket and whipped it back. His boxers did little to hide the impressive bulge. Jessica and Tara let out twin gasps. I hooked my fingers into the waistband and slowly, inch by inch, pulled them down. His cock flopped out, resting heavily against his thigh.

“Oh my god,” Tara breathed. “It’s even bigger than you said. It’s… perfect.”

Jessica leaned in, her eyes scanning every detail. “It is,” she admitted, but then her nose wrinkled. “Ugh, but I’m not a fan of all that hair. It’s just… so… bushy. It ruins the view.”

An idea, both terrible and brilliant, sparked in my mind. “I can fix that,” I announced with a wicked grin.

I ran to my room and returned with my at-home waxing kit. Brian’s eyes widened in sheer horror. “No. Mia, no. Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Hush now,” I said, warming the wax. “We’re just giving you a little grooming. You’ll thank us later.”

His protests were useless. The three of us held him down while I spread the warm wax. He hissed and swore through gritted teeth with every painful rip, but by the end, he was utterly, completely smooth. His cock and balls looked like they’d been carved from marble, pink and angry from the abuse but undeniably magnificent.

“Much better,” Jessica said, admiring our handiwork.

“Now for the main event,” I announced, drizzling a generous amount of lube over his now-smooth shaft. It twitched at the contact. “Let’s see if we can make this thing sing.”

We started slow. Jessica and I took a side each, our hands gliding up and down his length in perfect, teasing unison. We used every trick we knew—light, feathery touches with our fingertips, followed by firm, twisting strokes. We’d bring him right to the edge, his breath hitching, his hips straining upwards, and then we’d stop, leaving him throbbing and desperate.

“Please,” he finally choked out, his head thrown back against the pillow.

“Please what, Brian?” Tara asked, her voice dripping with mock innocence. “Please stop? Or please don’t stop?”

He didn’t answer, just let out a frustrated groan.

“You know,” Tara said thoughtfully, her finger circling the tip of his cock, spreading the bead of pre-cum that had gathered there. “I read somewhere that if you give a guy a prostate massage while you do this… it, like, triples the amount they cum. Makes them explode.”

“I’m down to test that theory,” Jessica said immediately. “For science.”

Tara slicked up her fingers with more lube. “Time to go exploring, Brian.”

He tensed as her hand moved between his legs. He let out a choked gasp as she circled his tight entrance before slowly pressing a finger inside. His whole body went rigid. “No… stop…”

“Shhh,” I cooed, leaning down to whisper in his ear as Jessica and I resumed our slow, maddening stroke. “Just relax. Let us take care of you.”

Tara found the spot, pressing firmly. Brian’s reaction was instantaneous. A deep, guttural moan tore from his throat, and his back arched off the bed. His cock, which was hard before, felt like it was made of steel.

“See? He likes it,” Jessica giggled.

We kept up the relentless, coordinated assault. Our hands pumping his slick, smooth shaft, Tara’s expert finger massaging him from the inside. He was a mess of writhing, moaning need. He was so close, his entire body trembling on the verge of release.

“Admit it, Brian,” I commanded, my voice firm. “Admit you love it. Admit you love what we’re doing to you.”

He fought it, his pride warring with his overwhelming pleasure. But another firm press from Tara, another twist of our wrists, and he broke.

“Fuck! Yes!” he cried out, his voice ragged. “I fucking love it! Don’t stop!”

“That’s what I thought,” I said, a triumphant smile on my face. “But I think we can make this even more interesting.”

I stopped my stroking and stood up. “Don’t move,” I told the girls. “I’ll be right back.”

I walked out of the room, leaving him panting and helpless, tied to the bed with two of my friends still working him over. I went to my room and opened my nightstand drawer, pushing aside batteries and old receipts until I found it: my favorite dildo, a sleek, curved, seven-inch silicone toy designed for one specific purpose. I grabbed it and a fresh bottle of lube. This was going to be fun.

Chapter 3

I walked back into the bedroom holding the silicone dildo like a conductor’s baton. Brian’s eyes, which had been squeezed shut in a haze of pleasure, flew open when he saw it. The raw, unadulterated panic that washed over his face was delicious.

“No,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Mia, no. Not that.”

“Oh, yes,” I said, my voice a silky purr. “This isn’t just a massage, Brian. This is a full symphony, and you’re our instrument.”

Tara and Jessica giggled, their eyes gleaming with predatory delight. Jessica never stopped her slow, maddening strokes on his cock, and Tara kept her finger pressed deep inside him, ensuring he stayed pliant and on edge. He was trapped between pleasure and terror, his body a battlefield.

I knelt on the bed between his spread legs, holding the toy up for him to see. “Don’t worry,” I said, coating the curved shaft with a generous amount of fresh lube until it gleamed under the lamplight. “I’ll be gentle. At first.”

I nodded to Tara. She slowly withdrew her finger, leaving him feeling suddenly empty and exposed. He whimpered at the loss. Before he could protest, I was pressing the slick, cool tip of the dildo against his tight, puckered entrance.

“Relax,” I commanded, my tone leaving no room for argument. “Push out a little. It’ll go in easier.”

He was trembling, his muscles clenched in resistance. I pushed forward firmly but steadily. The head of the toy popped past his tight ring of muscle, and he cried out, a sharp, shocked sound. I paused, letting him adjust to the intrusion.

“Fuck… it’s too much,” he gasped, his fists clenching and unclenching where they were tied.

“Nonsense,” Jessica chimed in, leaning down to flick her tongue over the swollen head of his cock. “You’re doing great.”

I began to push the dildo deeper, inch by agonizing inch. His protests dissolved into a series of guttural, helpless moans. The toy was perfectly designed to hit that spot, and as it slid home, his entire body jolted as if he’d been struck by lightning.

“See?” I whispered, twisting the toy slightly. “Found it.”

I began to move it, slowly at first, then with more confidence, establishing a rhythm. In and out, a relentless, deep pressure that had him seeing stars. Jessica and Tara watched, mesmerized, as his cock throbbed in time with my strokes, leaking a steady stream of pre-cum.

“Look at him,” Tara breathed. “He’s completely gone.”

“He’s loving it,” Jessica added, and she was right. The fight had gone out of him, replaced by a desperate, mindless need. His hips were rocking back to meet the toy, fucking himself on it.

“Admit it again, Brian,” I ordered, my voice hard. “Tell us how much you love this. Tell us you want more.”

He was beyond shame now. “I love it,” he sobbed, his voice raw with pleasure. “God, I love it. Please… please don’t stop…”

We were driving him to the brink, a coordinated assault on his senses. Jessica’s mouth was hot and wet around the tip of his cock, Tara’s hands squeezed and stroked his shaft, and my toy fucked him deep and hard. His whole body was tensing, a bowstring pulled taut. He was right there, teetering on the edge of a massive orgasm.

And then, all at once, we stopped.

I pulled the toy out. Jessica lifted her mouth. Tara’s hands went still. He was left dangling, his body screaming for release that wouldn’t come.

“No!” he cried out, his eyes flying open in desperation. “Why… what are you doing?”

I smiled cruelly. “We’re not done playing yet.” I looked at Jessica and Tara. “Let’s make this interesting. Let’s play a game for the grand prize.”

I grabbed the dice from the board game on my shelf. “Simple game of chance. Highest roll wins. The winner gets to finish him off. The loser has to watch.”

Jessica and Tara’s eyes lit up. I let Tara roll first. She shook the dice in her cupped hand and let them clatter onto the bedspread. A six and a two. Eight.

“Beat that,” she said smugly.

Jessica rolled next. A five and a one. Six. Her face fell in disappointment. “Aw, man!”

“My turn,” I said, shaking the dice. I blew on them for good luck before rolling them onto the bed. A five and a four. Nine.

“Yes!” I cheered, pumping my fist in the air. “I guess it’s my prize to claim.”

I knelt back between his legs, ignoring his frantic pleas. I picked up the dildo and slid it back into his willing hole, resuming the deep, punishing rhythm. Jessica and Tara watched, their expressions a mix of envy and excitement.

“He’s all yours,” Tara said, leaning in close to my ear. “Make him explode.”

I didn’t need any encouragement. I worked him with a vengeance, my hand pumping the toy in and out while my other hand gripped his slick, hard cock, stroking him in time. His moans became higher pitched, more desperate. His balls drew up tight against his body.

“Come on, Brian,” I urged, my voice a low growl. “Give it to me. Give me all of it.”

With a final, strangled cry, his body arched off the bed. His cock erupted in my hand, shooting thick, powerful ropes of cum that landed on his chest, his stomach, and my arm. It was a massive, shuddering orgasm that seemed to go on forever, leaving him a limp, panting, trembling mess.

When he was finally spent, I slowly pulled the toy out and set it aside. The three of us looked down at our handiwork—Brian, tied to the bed, covered in his own cum, utterly and completely broken.

I leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Now that was fun, wasn’t it?”