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He wakes into a dark, clammy space.
Something stuffs every inch of his throat, muscles limply working around the intrusion as he takes shallow breaths. He blinks a little to find a trimmed patch of pubic hair, half red and half white, before his eyes.
He remembers that this is how he fell asleep last night, too. Impaled on Todoroki’s cock, warming him like he does every night; The guy produces too much pre, soaks the bed like he’s pissed himself, which would be embarrassing for someone getting accredited to join his father’s law firm.
He’s trapped between the taller man’s thighs and the covers above him, leaving him feeling like a glorified cock sock as precum leaks down his throat so steadily that it barely registers as a sensation.
It’s perfect.
He takes deep huffs of the masculine musk, unmasked by the cologne that Todoroki uses in the day time. If he hadn’t spent the night like this, bathing in sweat and body odour, then it would have melted his brain; instead, it’s just more pleasurable, addicting scent for his useless, shattered mind.
He can’t actively suck Todoroki’s cock, not with his throat muscles stretched so far that they can barely contract, and his head pinned into place. All he can do is exist, just be around fifteen girthy inches, only half-hard and still stretching him to his limit.
Time is hazy; with nothing changing around him, no light spilling inside, he doesn’t know how long he slept. And like the rest of his owners, he’s virile and flowing with a masculinity that Izuku could never possess, meaning he’s sweaty. By the time Izuku had taken the entirety of that cock down his throat-pussy, Todoroki’s body was already moist and beading, an assault to the boy’s senses.
Unlike his other masters, however, Todoroki works hard to cover up to keep his graceful, princely image; only his buds and their group cum dumpster get to see the insatiable, domineering beast beneath, using Izuku like he’s barely a person in his eyes.
After however long, a guttural groan can be heard, signalling the older boy’s awakening. The legs bracketing his body stretch with the rest of him, the shifting hips slipping an inch out of Izuku’s mouth before the stretch is released and Todoroki falls slack, sheathing himself all the way back inside.
“Morning,” Todoroki says after a long yawn. One thing Izuku has noticed, though ditzy as he’s become in the last few months, is Todoroki only really addresses him when he can’t speak back, whether that’s now or some other time he’s stuffed with cock. A hand slips under the covers, finally exposing a small glint of light into Izuku’s little humid chamber and illuminating the soft muscle of Todoroki’s abdomen, his well-developed chest. The hand settles to pet at the cockwarmer’s hair, occasionally giving scritches like he’s a little kitten.
Then, had he not have felt the liquid travelling down the length of Todoroki’s cock, swelling and stiffening with the flow, he’d have been pissed in with zero warning. It gushes out as the stud takes his morning piss without even budging, flooding Izuku’s stomach and swelling it out while Todoroki groans, deep and rich and so manly. He won’t even taste it until the stud eventually pulls Izuku off him, dragging the head across his taste buds and leaving a trail of piss and pre as it leaves.
He’ll still be stuck for a while, however. Todoroki is the definition of a beauty sleeper; even now Izuku can hear the haptic noises of his phone being idly tapped and scrolled. Even when he gets out of bed, he might take the boi along with him, keeping his head pinned down with one big hand as he walks, dragging the boi by his ass and feet to the bathroom while he brushes his teeth.
If he didn’t have several masters to serve, Todoroki would probably keep him like this all day, mostly just an idle sleeve to dump precum and piss into, maybe even actually hosing his insides with a load if he feels like it. Eventually, though, he’ll be handed over to Bakugou and Kirishima, who have him reserved for their early morning gym session.
——
He didn’t mean to end up like this, a bunch of frat bros’ cockslave.
He had been so desperate to be accepted into the fraternity, prove his manliness after eighteen years being called every slur in the book for his short frame and naturally wide hips.
Instead, he entered initiation to find that one of the guys who bullied him in high school was accepted in almost by default.
Bakugou had gotten even bigger since they last met, when he’d shoved Izuku to his knees next to a urinal just before the graduation ceremony and ruined his gown. He had gotten broader, thicker his voice deepened; really, he was running up the score while Izuku had tripped over at the start line.
As soon as their eyes met, Izuku knew he was doomed. He tried to make his excuses and leave, but the blonde wouldn’t let him, instead dragging him to meet his new bud, Kirishima. The man, even thicker and broader than Bakugou, looked down at him like he just found a new chew toy, sporting a massive toothy grin as he wrapped a huge arm around his neck to lead him along.
Hanging out further in the fraternity was Shouto. The pretty boy was by far the most put-together of the whole building, his old money roots clear as day despite his wide shoulders and defined physique. He didn’t say a word to Izuku, eyeing him with a kind of disdain that he didn’t afford anyone else, as if he just had to behold an ant crawling into his presence.
He was asked a bunch of questions, most answered derisively by Bakugou instead, while surrounded by these taller, imposing men.
“Do you work out?”
“Look at the faggot.”
“What do you do for fun?”
“Suck dicks, probably.”
“Do you wanna be more manly?”
“As if the sissy ever could.”
“Did you get off when I punched you in the stomach in middle school?”
“Of course you did, fucking freak.”
“Are you gonna be our bitch or do we have to make you?” Todoroki asks, and it takes him a moment to realise that he was supposed to answer.
As fucked up as it was, just being looked at with such hunger, sadistic as it was, answered the question for him. Within the hour he was bent over one of the couches, fucked in full view of the frat while everyone hauled every insult and slur they could think of. He was instantly the campus faggot, the stupid bitch that immediately gave himself up to a bunch of real men the moment he laid eyes on them.
And they were right.
They never asked what he was majoring in, and he quickly learned that it wouldn’t matter. Three months into the semester and he’s rarely left the fraternity, and if he did it was at night for one of his owners’ sadistic games.
They quickly formed a routine; he’d keep Todoroki warm at night, save him from changing his soaked sheets every morning, then eventually be freed to join Bakugou and Kirishima at the gym. Then he’d clean up their dorms in nothing but an apron until someone has use for him and monopolises the rest of his time.
He takes all of it with a smile.
Bakugou once told him that his mind ain’t right, that he’s such an airheaded loser and it’s only gotten worse since they inducted him. It’s hard for Izuku to feel insulted though, not when Bakugou said it with pride. He moulded the boi for this since they met as kids, all those years of bullying and humiliating making the perfect subservient fuckhole.
——
“Come on losers, I got shit to do today,” Bakugou grumbles as they enter the gym, Izuku having just showered with Todoroki.
The fraternity, stuffed full of football scholarships as it is, is connected to a state-of-the-art gym. Kirishima is one such football scholarship that barely scrapes studying exercise psychology, and Bakugou is obsessed with sculpting his body like a Greek god, all while blasting through a mechanical engineering major. It’s thanks to Bakugou that Kirishima is passing his grades in the first place.
As far as Izuku is concerned, Bakugou was firm about him joining them in the mornings.
“If your faggot ass is gonna belong to me, then I’m gonna make a tight little bitch outta you,” he told Izuku when he agreed to be theirs, and he hasn’t gone a single day without Bakugou’s coaching.
While the big guys do strength, conditioning and drills, Izuku’s restricted to cardio and working on his legs or his ass under the blonde’s direct supervision. It quickly became clear that Izuku was here to be eye candy first and a real exercise buddy a distant third, behind being their fuckhole. But he couldn’t mind, not when they leered at him between their sets, making his cheeks burn red with lust.
The heaters are on this morning, a relief to Izuku since he’s only allowed to wear a crop top and shorts that stop halfway down his asscheeks. Just like every other time, he’s lead in between the two bigger men, kept away from leering eyes and within reach of their wandering hands.
He warms up with Kirishima while Bakugou sets their weights up. The overgrown puppy of a man is eager to help him balance or push him just a little further in his pose, so cheerful and supportive even as he stands behind him, his dickprint pressing against the shorter boy’s bare back. When Bakugou returns, rolling his eyes at how obvious Kirishima is and how badly Izuku blushes just from the contact, he joins in to finish their stretches.
Izuku reaches his personal bar, spray-painted hot pink by Bakugou ‘so the faggot can feel included.’ He notices that blonde has increased the weight on his bar, though not by much. His bar is sparse at it is, only getting actual weights on it a months into the routine, and the weight has increased by increments of five pounds every month.
“Can’t overwhelm a poor sissy like you,” Bakugou had explained when Izuku asked why he’s only allowed to lift so little, even to the ends of getting his ass as fat as possible.
He’s also kept next to the corner, mirrors on each wall behind him. It’s just a small distance from the weights, but enough to make him feel isolated, kept from sharing the same tools as the real men. It’s clear just why he’s positioned here when he starts his squats and both men stare at either him or the mirrors, leering at him from every angle.
“God, we found such a hot bitch,” Kirishima grunts as he lifts his own weights, maybe 300 pounds on the bar. It’s not without effort, but it’s clear that he’s not giving his all to heave the bar up either. His hairy body rhythmically shifts with controlled breaths the whole time.
“Yeah, you can keep thanking me,” Bakugou responds, his own weights to the side while he spots the other. He always lifts more, a function of him only getting his exercise in the gym while Kirishima has constant practice and drills and games to worry about. They’re both working up a sweat while Izuku is almost pristine, a few beads running down from his fluffy hair while Bakugou’s bangs are matted to his forehead. He can smell them from here, store-brand deodorant long wearing off under the pressure of their constant stink.
“Hey! No slacking off, braindead fucking fag,” Bakugou calls out, startling Izuku from his trance watching the others exercise. Kirishima smirks at him as he swaps position with Bakugou, raising a hand to wave him on in a ‘get moving’ gesture. No matter how kind Kirishima can seem (and mostly is, to be honest) it’s clear that he gets just as much pleasure bullying Izuku as the rest.
With a sigh, Izuku returns to his light squats. He knows his ass is getting bigger; he’s been told with exacting detail just how much so, which makes him proud despite how humiliating it is.
Today’s workout last about thirty more minutes, ending with Kirishima benching 400 pounds to both Izuku and Bakugou’s delighted gazes. The wink Kiri sends after he drops the barbell to the padded floor with a bone-deep roar makes him melt inside.
While Izuku has finally worked up enough sweat to feel like he’s actually worked out, the other two are practically coated with the stuff. While Kirishima would have absolutely no problem spending the rest of the day like this, Bakugou would rather die than get his normal clothes stained, so he shepherds them all into the showers as usual, Kirishima slapping Izuku’s ass and winking at Bakugou as he leads the way.
He isn’t naked for more than a few seconds before he’s scooped up and slammed against the tiles, caged in by Kirishima’s bulk while his hands prize his cheeks apart. The man’s huge arms, his heaving tits and soft barrel of a torso envelop him in a warm, sweaty grasp. He’s pulled back from the wall and, still held with his ass spread in mid-air, presented to Bakugou. At the sight of the plug, almost as thick as Kirishima’s cock, a scoff can be heard.
“Good fuckin fag,” the blonde groans before grabbing at the base, digging his fingers against Izuku’s rim to get a grip. It pops out, letting out some of the jizz Todoroki left inside by way of lube (he hasn’t had to use any of the proper stuff since his first time). Kirishima lets out a groan of his own at the sight of Todoroki’s thick cum running down his crack and down his balls before dripping to the floor.
He feels the heat of Bakugou’s cock before the tip presses to his rim, stretching it even further until it closes past the corona, provoking a hiss from Izuku. The pain doesn’t last long, however, not when every inch batters his prostate and his nerves set alight from the pressure against his insides. He can’t help stuttering out a filthy little moan, tongue already hanging from his mouth as Bakugou quickly bottoms out.
The bulge he makes in his belly presses into Kirishima’s, denting into the soft layer of fat that covers his hard bulk. The redhead is hardening too, cock trapped beneath Izuku while Bakugou simply keeps himself warm inside the smallest boy’s velvety insides.
“Y-you got her, babe?” Kirishima grunts, and Bakugou can only huff before wrapping his hands around Izuku, knees pulls up to his shoulders. Kirishima just smiles down at Izuku, petting his head like a prized pet before walking around the pair, “I’ll get the shower started!”
Izuku wishes he could see that monster cock bob as he went, or that round, muscular ass.
Instead, he’s treated to a rumbling in Bakugou’s chest as the bigger man growls down at him before lifting him up.
“Fffucking faggot, meant to be fucked like this,” he works Izuku up the length of his cock until over a foot is free, then slams him back down. They both moan as their hips clap together, Izuku’s soft flesh against Bakugou’s hard body. Sweat flies onto Izuku as he’s raised and dropped again, covered in the other’s raunchy stink. He can’t help but huff it in while each plap forces a squeak out of his mouth and more jizz out of his asspussy.
He doesn’t notice the hiss of the shower running, water flowing around Bakugou’s feet and washing the growing puddle of cum away.
He does notice the hulking form of Kirishima returning, looking down with an impish little grin.
“Havin’ fun, lil girl?” he coos, and Izuku can’t think of a respond before another thrust scrambles his thoughts. Kirishima just grins and brings one huge paw to his cheek, stroking him with his thumb before cupping his jaw and grabbing a shoulder.
“Hey, babe? I want some fun too,” it takes Bakugou a moment to even acknowledge the blonde, only stopping after a few more claps of his hips into Izuku’s, but he finally stops to relinquish his grip on his bitch. He gently tips forwards, guided by the redhead until the hands on him grip more firmly.
He looks forward to see the thickest cock he’s seen in his life, letting out a constant stream of precum from it’s tip. It bobs invitingly before him, Izuku’s eyes following the movement, hypnotised. The stink of sweat and cock musk must kill a few more precious brain cells with how ripe it is. With how he’s suspended between the two, he can’t even move forwards to suck Kiri’s cock, and he whines at the sudden emptiness he feels in his mouth, even as insides warm Bakugou’s cock.
A cock that resumes it’s thrusts after just a few moments of keeping still.
With someone else holding onto Izuku with him, Bakugou is free to properly swing his hips forwards, his sculpted body a machine as he drives as deep as he can inside the smaller boy.
He screams as he’s fucked deeper than ever, and then he’s muffled by Kirishima plunging his cock in his mouth and down his throat in a single thrust.
His eyes roll back at the feeling, as if his throat is as wired for the pleasure of being bullied by huge cocks as his guts. His owners must feel how he seizes up around them, if the pair of animalistic grunts he hears are any indication.
“F-fucking faggot, you that desperate for cock?” Bakugou taunts above him, while grinding his hips in small circles against Izuku’s hole. In front of him, a few inches still wait to be buried inside while Izuku’s lips stretching to their breaking point around the girthiest part of Kirishima’s cock.
“H-hah… we’re almost there, bitch!” the redhead exclaims cheerfully, groaning as he pulls back just a bit before thrusting in again, then again and again until finally his lips stretch past the girthiest point, the last few inches sliding in with a wet glurk!
Then the pair starts walking.
He doesn’t know what they were communicating above him, but with their cocks fully sheathed inside him, to the point that they could almost meet in the middle of their shared sleeve, they take measured steps, splashing through the running water until the shower’s spray is directly above all of them.
The accumulated sweat starts to wash away under the shower as his owners simply stand there, finding their footing if the little wet steps are anything to go by.
They both pull out, one after the other, until only half their lengths are inside Izuku. He doesn’t know just what they’ve got planned, but he’s helpless to do anything but take whatever their whims demand.
It’s Bakugou who thrusts first, and he doesn’t stop when his hips meet Izuku. He continues to drive as far as his posture allows, the momentum sending Izuku forwards, down Kirishima’s cock until he’s once again stuck at the girthiest part. Under his broken moans, a disappointed hum can be heard from the redhead before they reset back to their original position.
They’re experimenting with him, playing with their toy. Izuku moans again at the realisation.
Bakugou thrusts again, just a little harder, shoving him with a little more force. When he nears the swell of Kirishima’s cock, the redhead thrusts this time, clearly waiting for the right moment to do so. It works, public bone slapping against his lips and obscuring his vision with a wild bush of wiry pubes.
Izuku cums. Neither of the studs notice.
They simply pull back again, a little faster this time, ignoring his whines and cries of sheer pleasure and thrust again, then again. He’d realise later that only Bakugou would have come up with such a technique, but right now he’s mindless, crushed between two bodied as they fuck him properly.
All he can hear is the rush of water, his own muffled noises and bestial, undeniably masculine grunts and growls of two men using their bitch. He’s cored out, his well-used insides churned and filled and emptied then filled with cock. Each thrust from each stud forces another pathetic spurt from Izuku until his little clitty is dry, aching with overstimulation.
After a few minutes, the two seem to come closer, their midsections scrunching above Izuku. He only realises what’s happening when the grunts he hears turn wet, flesh meeting flesh.
They making out while buried in his guts.
He’s just a bonding tool for them.
He cums again.
They stay like that for a while, thrusts much more shallow as the men above him kiss, Izuku long forgotten as anything but a warmth around their cocks, massaging them and bringing them to climax.
And when they do, they separate, Bakugou grunting and Kirishima growling as heavy rope after heavy rope are dumped into him from both ends, heavy breeder balls thrumming as they empty a litre of jizz into their cum dumpster.
It lasts minutes. His owners moan and pant above him while Izuku’s belly swells with the volume of jizz dumped into him. Neither one can cum as much as Todoroki can, but Izuku can feel that they beat him when both practically piss cum into him at the same time.
When their cocks finally start to dribble jizz instead of spraying like a firehose, the two pull out. They’re still not soft, so when they each pop out of his holes they still bob in the air above Izuku, and despite how wrecked he is he still can’t help but eye them with thirst. Bakugou seems to notice it if the amused tsk is anything to go by.
“Stupid, slutty fag,” Bakugou drawls, fond despite the harshness of his words.
The pair guide Izuku to his feet, though it’s a pointless effort. He immediately topples into Bakugou’s side, drained of energy and his limbs still dead from flailing in the air uselessly. Bakugou quickly wraps an arm around the boy’s shoulders, rolling his eyes as he brings Izuku to lean into his front, head between his plump pecs.
“You okay to handle her, babe?” Kirishima calls out as he begins to wash. They all know he has practise very soon, and he can only be so late from getting bussy in the gym showers.
“Fucken ‘course,” Bakugou replies, slipping his arm around Izuku’s neck. It’s loose, more to keep him steady in his own sadistic manner than to actually choke him, “get washed and fuck off, redhead, I’ll see you after class.”
“Okay!” Kirishima does exactly that, not even bothering to use soap as he simply lets all the sweat and grime away under the spray, hands running through his hair to make sure the water penetrates through. In just a minute he’s done, turning to the pair that just watches him with naked lust. He presses a kiss to Bakugou’s cheek, drawing a groan from the blonde, and then does the same to Izuku’s forehead (his own freckled cheek in behind a thick forearm at the moment), before leaving with a wave.
“Dumbass.” Bakugou says, once again fond. Izuku shivers as those scarlet eyes turn from the doorway to himself, “now lets get your lil’ sissy body clean, since you’re too lazy to do it yourself.”
It’s clear that this is how Bakugou shares his affection, scrubbing Izuku down, lathering his hair and sitting him on his lap on the floor as he washes himself. The blonde is still half-hard but he doesn’t do anything, simply focusing on getting them clean.
“You gonna be good while we’re in class, fag?” Izuku nods, languid. He’s boneless, his whole body lax after being firmly scrubbed down and after being brutally crushed by two monster cocks. He feels the stubble against his cheek where Bakugou keeps his chest shaved. He hopes the blonde lets it grow out so he has two hairy bodies to smother him in the future.
He’s doomed for a nap, but the moment he wakes he’s got the whole frat to clean, and then he’ll likely keep Bakugou company as he makes dinner and sit on Kirishima’s lap when they eat it. Then the blonde will steal the redhead away to study, this being the only time of day in the house where Izuku is to be kept from them for the sake of Kirishima’s test scores. Shouto, however, only focuses better with his distracting length warmed under the desk. Just like when they sleep, he won’t have to worry about where his pre leaks when he has a pretty little cum toilet to handle it.
Until the weekend hits, every day is like this, a routine designed to keep everyone happy and Izuku in shape for their sadistic desires.
And when the weekend does hit, anything can happen to the group bitch. He’s completely subject to their whims, firmly lesser than them. He’s long given up on a career, not when he has so much cock to service, so much man to worship 24/7.
Bakugou was right about his place in the world, beneath men like himself, and Izuku can’t be anymore happier for it.