The Domination of Dean Winchester

As Lucas shoved the shorts into Dean' mouth, Nate landed a fist into the quarterback's stomach to stop his violent struggling. A muffled "oommpphh" was followed by soft whimpers as Dean tried to suck air back into his lungs. Nate landed another fist into his gut, followed by three quick rabbit punches in his side, just above his waistline; achieving their desired effect. Dean fell limply against the top of the dresser. Gasping for air. Sweating profusely.



"That's it, Dean. Just lay back and let it happen. It'll go a lot easier on you while you're transforming," Nate snarled.



Dean stared through tear-filled eyes into his teammate's sinister glare. He mumbled incoherently through his gag. "Trnnss . ... . ffrrmmnn?"



Nate held up the clippers and flipped the switch ‘off’ and ‘on’ for more emphasis. With a grin that was equally sinister and sex crazed, he ran the razor's sharp teeth along the quarterback's left arm pit. Those silken hairs began falling to the side. Dean' eyes widened even more. "What transformation, you ask?" Nate asked with another demonic laugh. Dean nodded shakily as he clenched his eyes tightly. The razor made another pass along the full length of his arm pit. "I already told you, buddy. Tonight, you leave your manhood behind. Tonight—you become a cocksucker . . . and . . . you . . . become . . . a . . . pussy." He grinned as he silently thought, And soon. . . . Very soon—you become a whore, Dean. But we’ll leave that little surprise until later. After you get plenty of training. He laughed again as he pressed harder, shearing the soft hairs in his victim's sweaty pit down to skin. He moved to Dean' right arm pit. Soon, only small nubs protruded from the otherwise creamy smooth caves under his arms.



Nate backhanded the clippers to Sam, picked up the can of shaving cream, and one of the disposable razors. He glanced up and noticed Lucas 's rock hard cock—dripping precum—only inches from Dean' face. "Hey, Lucas —why don't you get rid of that gag and shove something more substantial down his throat?" Lucas grinned and gave a silent nod. He grabbed Dean' head, pulled it roughly backward and then pulled the cloth from the quarterback's mouth.



"Stop! Lemmeeegggggorrgghhmmpphh. . . ." Dean' pleas were immediately garbled as Lucas 's cock rammed into his mouth, gagging him as the mushroom head blocked the opening at the back of his throat. Rather than give him a chance to recover, Lucas pushed harder—forcing him to open up to the invasion.



Sam watched as his junior teammate gripped the sides of his quarterback brother's head and fucked long, deliberate strokes into his ravaged mouth. "Yeah. That's it, Lucas —show him what a pussy mouth is used for." He returned his attention to his own assignment. Both of the athlete's powerful legs were clipped and ready for Nate's final strokes with the blade. He glanced forward and focused on Dean' crotch. He stared at those twin plums—swathed in that same dark blond as the top of his head—drawn tight now, out of fear. His own cock began rising once again. He leaned forward and grabbed his brother's cock, and—the clipper’s teeth began vibrating once again.



A low moan of disgust and helplessness erupted from deep in Dean' throat. He realized what was next on the agenda—his crotch and his nuts. They were going to strip him of every last hair from his neck down. The humiliation level rose even more. He was being shaved down. He was going to be raped by his best friends. Raped by his brother; turning him into just what they had warned. A pussy.



Nate moved down to the end of the dresser and filled his cupped hand with shaving cream. He began lathering their captive's legs and thighs. He glanced up and watched his own brother continue to pummel his cock into Dean' mouth—scraping against the back of his throat. He watched as Sam delicately shaved away the ample matting of upper thigh hair next to the athlete's heavy nutsac. He grinned again. Sarcastic. Sinister. Possessed. Soon, Dean. . . . Very soon . . . the real fun begins. Soon he would take position above the helpless quarterback. He would drape Dean' powerful quarterback’s legs over his equally powerful tight end’s shoulders. He would press his throbbing cock against that virgin hole. He would linger briefly. Taunting. Extending the agony of the coming onslaught for a few moments as he stared down into those terrified eyes.



Terrified, because the quarterback's numbed senses would suddenly come alive in the full realization of what was coming. And then—only then—would he take the plunge. He would power thrust his hips forward driving his raging cock balls deep into that waiting hole. He would by the first to turn Dean Winchester into a pussy. The first—but—not the last. There would be a long line waiting to use this pussy boy by the time he was finished with him. Another wicked smile. A pussy boy. That's what you’ll be before they got on the bus in the morning. He smiled more wickedly as he thought, Tonight, Dean. Tonight—you become a pussy . . . either voluntarily or with some not-so-gentle persuasion from us. Either way, buddy—you will become a pussy. Tonight. And, tomorrow—you become a whore."



Lucas felt his nuts churning. Dean' mouth was hot. Its wet suction and involuntary resistance to the invading shaft of thick meat worked together to make it even hotter. Wetter. He was ready. "Oh, fuck. . . . Shit. I'm close."



"Yeah? Give it to him, Lucas ," Nate prodded as he lathered up the quarterback's powerful thighs. Delicately, but firmly—he began to scrape the razor over the tanned skin of those muscular trunks. Another stroke. Another moan from their victim. Nate chuckled. "Do you feel that, pussy boy? Do you feel that razor?" Dean moaned as Lucas continued assaulting his aching throat with his thick, hard cock. "Feel that blade erasing the last few shreds of your manhood? Do you feel it, Dean? Do you feel it turning you into a boy?" He ran his fingers over the athlete's left thigh. "Mmm . . . smooth . . . as . . . silk, pussy boy. Totally smooth." He actually felt his teammate quiver under his touch.

Nate glanced up just as Sam leaned in to press the clippers to Dean' crotch. Preparing to enter the last step in this process. His mind clicked with another thought. A sudden shift in the plan. A new, more humiliating idea. His hand shot out to grasp Sam's wrist and pull it away from hos brother's crotch before the sharp-edged teeth cut into that mass of curled blond hairs. Sam Winchester looked up at his teammate with confusion streaking his face. Questions filled his eyes.



"Not his nuts or his crotch. We don't take that away from him," Nate said huskily as he glanced up and saw that Lucas was wincing in pained pleasure as he tried to hold off as long as possible before he blew his load. He tried to delay unloading his thick juice down Dean' throat—wanting to fuck that pussy mouth just a few more long strokes—just a few more deep thrusts. Nate was impressed. The kid was turning into a major ally.

Sam Winchester was still confused. Why’d he stop me from. . . . "But, isn’t that the plan? I thought the plan was to turn him into a pussy that looks like a pussy?"



Nate stared down at Dean' impressive nuts and big cock. He stared into Sam's eyes and nodded slowly. "Yeah. But we don't do the final step." He nodded toward the helpless quarterback.



Sam broke his stare into his teammate's eyes and briefly studied Dean. His big brother was sucking wildly on Lucas 's throbbing cock. Sucking—not out of hungry sexual appetite and lust—but, fear. Fear, and a desire to not be beaten any more tonight. Suddenly, he understood what Nate was driving at. He grinned as he looked back to his teammate for a brief moment and then returned his attention to Nate. Suddenly, he knew what the All-State tight end was thinking. Nate Scott nodded. Sam nodded his agreement. "Oh yeah, man! Oh shit yeah. Awesome idea!"



"Oh, shit. . . . " Lucas moaned. "I'm. . . . " He couldn't finish his comment as his cock suddenly exploded in Dean' mouth. The first wad was like a canon ball as it crashed against the back of the quarterback's throat. It flooded its way downward into his gut. Lucas pulled his spasming cock from those tightly clenched lips and shot the rest of his load thick cum across Dean' ruggedly handsome face.



"Yeah, Lucas ! Give him a cum bath. Soak that stud pussy face with your juice," Sam chuckled sadistically. He moved into place and started to press his own raging cock into Dean’ mouth.



"Wait. . . . " Dean choked as he gasped for air. He stared upward into his best friend’s eyes. "Wait . . . please. . . . " He gasped for more air. "Let me . . . breathe. Let me . . . catch my breath for a sec. . . . "



Sam looked down and studied Dean’ face—dripping with sweat and Lucas ’s load of freshly churned cum. Cum in his hair. On his forehead. Splattered across his nose. Running down his cheeks and clinging to the edges of his mouth. He shifted his focus upward. To his brother's eyes—filled with tears and terror. They connected with his own—filled with lust and domination. He paused. But, he made sure that Dean knew he was not going to wait for long. He rubbed the huge head of his rock hard cock against those beautiful lips. His precum left a trail of lube around the stud's mouth. The long, thick shaft, spreading Lucas 's spent load across his cheek and the bridge of his nose. "Don't take too long, Dean. I gotta full load here that I've been waiting a long time to blow down your throat."



Dean lifted his head to see Nate wiping away the remaining shaving cream. His eyes widened. He didn't see a single hair from his chest, down his six-pack abs, his legs, or his thighs. As his mind reeled in humiliation, it also spun curiously in another direction. They were turning him into a pussy. They said that’s what they were going to do. They had been very serious. Why did they spare his nuts and his crotch? Why not shave him there, too? If they’re really gonna. . . . If they really intend to turn me into a pussy—why didn’t they. . . . A shiver ran through him as he came to the realization that they probably had other plans . . . as yet unspoken. He knew they were not finished with him. Not by a long shot.



Dean Winchester dropped his head back on the dresser and closed his eyes. Disgust. Revulsion. Embarrassment. Humiliation. All, flooding his mind at once. It was like a bad dream that had sailed past the nightmarish and straight into. . . . What? He didn't know what could be worse than a nightmare—but this had to be it. They had done part of what they had sworn to do. He had been turned almost fully into a boy. He wanted to fight before they entered the next stage of their plan. Before they took his virgin hole. Before they turned him into a cunt. A pussy. He wanted to fight. He had to fight. He pulled against his restraints once again but he couldn't break free. He couldn't even loosen his bindings enough to move more than an inch. An inch, at most. He was tied down. Tight. It was three against one. He was exhausted. He ached. Damn! I’ve never felt so fucking helpless in my entire life.



Dean opened his eyes and stared at Sam Winchester's raging cock. His little brother pushed it down and rubbed the dripping head across his lips. He read the question in Sam's eyes. He was unsure why, but his lips parted voluntarily—without any prodding, threats, or force. The huge fuck tool sank to the back of his mouth and pressed firmly against his throat. He closed his lips around the throbbing shaft, and—he began sucking. He tried not to gag. He tried not to throw up. He tried not to bite Sam's cock. He remembered what had happened earlier in the assault when he had accidentally scraped his teeth against the sensitive head of that huge cock. He remembered Sam's reaction. It had been swift. It had been blistering. His brother had slapped his face. Repeatedly. Ferociously. His skin still stung. How long ago was that anyway? Minutes? Hours? He didn't really know at this point. Time had ceased. For ‘him’ anyway.



Nate Scott stood back and stared down at their captive. He slowly surveyed Dean' freshly shaved body. The shackled quarterback was almost hairless now. The only evidence of hairy manliness on the football stud hunk’s body—anywhere—was the fiery, dark blond locks atop his handsome head, and—the matching honey blond bush in his fuck zone. That sinister grin almost seemed to be frozen in place now. The next step was at hand. He reached out and slapped the quarterback’s left thigh. Hard.



"It's time, Dean. You ready?" the award-winning tight end asked sarcastically. "The way you're handling Sammy's cock down your throat, I think you're ready. Yeah. I can tell. . . . You want cock bad, don’t you. You want it in your cunt, too. You want it down your pussy mouth and up your man cunt at the same time. Don't you? You can't get enough fuck meat. Can you? I knew you'd want all of it that you could get once you got a taste of it."



The team’s award-winning tight end bent down and untied first one and then the other of the athlete's ankles. Nate climbed up on the dresser and grabbed Dean' legs and lifted them. Up. And, over. Pushing them back against the quarterback's chest. Lucas reached out to grab one leg and hold it tight. Likewise, Sam grabbed the athlete's other leg and held it as he continued fucking his cock into Dean' mouth.



Nate moved forward on the dresser and assumed his position over their soon-to-be pussy. He hooked his bulging arms around the quarterback's upturned thighs and then rested his hands flat on the dresser beside Dean' shoulders. He moved forward slightly, his heavy cock sliding into place between those firm globes of flesh. Seemingly with a mind of its own, the giant mushroom head sought out the crack that shielded its prime piece of property. Searching. . . . Searching. . . . Searching. . . . Like it had built-in radar—it locked onto its desired target. Bull’s eye! He pressed the gigantic, dripping head of his throbbing fuck pole against Dean' tightly clenched hole. He repositioned himself slightly forward again, giving his hips more snapability when his assault began. He was ready. He stared down into those eyes. Eyes that he had stared into since. . . . Since when? It seemed like forever. Those eyes stared back at him now—even as Sam's thick cock fucked downward into that pried-wide mouth. Those eyes stared back at him. Filled with tears. Filled with terror. Brimming with the horrific knowledge of what was about to happen. That knowledge was magnified by another frightening realization. There was nothing the eighteen-year-old All-Star quarterback could do to prevent it. He was helpless. He was totally at their mercy. He was, or–soon would be . . . their pussy. Just . . . like . . . they . . . had . . . promised.



Sam's cock slipped from Dean' mouth and the terrified quarterback lifted his head. He focused on the huge chunk of meat pressed tightly against his hole. Ready to rip into him. Ready to tear him in two. His eyes widened even more in alarm. He pulled violently against his restraints. Teeth, gritting. Sweat, pouring. Muscles, stretching and bulging to their maximum. The bindings held tight. He was held tight. Unable to get up. Unable to get away from what was to come. He looked up into Nate's eyes. "Nate . . . please! C'mon, man . . . don’t . . . do . . . this!" No response. The senior tight end stared back down at him—his face frozen in sinister anticipation. Nate? Nathan . . . please!"



"Please what? Please fuck you? Please turn you into my pussy?" Nate snarled. Dean closed his eyes and shook his head violently. The tight end laughed viciously. "Don’t worry—you're already halfway there, Dean. This? This is just the final plunge to take you over the edge. . . . To the other side." For emphasis, he snapped his hips forward and sank part of the bulbous, mushroom head into Dean' unwilling hole.



"Aarrgghhh," Dean hissed as he felt the pain sear into him. It was worse in his mind than in his hole. ‘This time.’ This time, it was pain triggered by his fear of what was about to take place. Suddenly, he completely realized that he could not stop it from happening. It was inevitable. He had to try, though. Again. One more time. "Nate. . . . Don't! Please . . . don't . . . do . . . this," he snarled through tightly clenched teeth as he fought against his restraints once more. Fought for his freedom. Fought to keep his hole . . . whole. Fought to keep his virgin cherry unharvested.



Nate chuckled at the terror that was streaking across the quarterback’s face. "Don't worry. I'm gonna give it all to you." He repositioned himself again on the dresser and shifted his weight more to his mid section—to add more power to the battering ram that was about to rip into their handsome, All-State buddy. He held himself above his helpless prey and stared down into those panic-stricken eyes. Sweat beaded on his face, trailed down the tip of his nose, and dripped to Dean' face. The grin widened. His eyes squinted. He gulped in air and snapped his hips forward again. Another taunt. Another taste of what was to come.



"Aarrgghhh," Dean yelped again. It was coming. He knew it was coming and there was nothing he could do about it. Nate was going to fuck the shit out of him with that huge cock. He gasped for air and tried once more to talk his way out of what was happening. "Please, don't. . . ." He hissed again through clenched teeth. "Stop! Stop now and . . . I’ll . . . do anything else you want. Anything. Guys! Please! I’ll do anything. Anything . . . if . . . you stop now. . . . I won't tell. I swear I won't say anything. I won't tell anybody. Nate, c’mon—I swear, man. . . . I swear I won’t tell anyone if you stop. Now! Please!"



Nate's smile melted. He glared down at the too-handsome-for-his-own-good quarterback. At least, too handsome for his own good . . . tonight. "Too late, Dean. . . ." He reared back and with one massive thrust—he snapped his hips forward and sank his cock into Dean' hole. "You’re fucked."



"AARRGGHH!" The shriek was blood curdling but short-lived. A pillow was pressed tightly over Dean' face to stifle it. Still, Nate was unswayed in his assault on that tight hole.



"Oh, yeah. Open up, Dean. Open . . . up . . . and . . . take . . . it. . . . C'mon, Dean—open that pussy," Nate hissed as he pulled back and plowed his cock into its bull's eye once more. His balls slapped loudly against the quarterback's upturned cheeks with each mighty, downward thrust. "Open . . . up . . . and . . . take . . . it!" Nate ordered as he began plunging in repeatedly.



Sam and Lucas looked at each other through lust-filled eyes. Each, stroking his own raging manhood. Each, knowing that his turn was coming to use Dean Winchester as their fuck hole. Their pussy. Dean seemed to ease up in his fighting. Wondering if he had passed out from the pain caused by Nate's plunging cock—tearing its way into his unwilling hole, Sam lifted the pillow from the quarterback's face. He and Lucas both stared down at that always smiling, lady-killer face. It was not smiling now. It was twisted. Contorted, by excruciating pain, and—terror. Evidenced in every pore of that beautiful, smooth, sweat- tear- and cum-soaked face.



Dean raised his head and looked through blistering eyes. Watching, as his teammate reared back and snapped his hips forward. Again. Impaling him. Again. He watched in horror as the full length of Nate's thick cock plunged into his stretched hole. Again. And again. And, again. . . . He summoned energy, from somewhere—and he again tugged and fought against his restraints. Trying desperately to get away. Again. His muscles bulged and strained to there limits. Again. He tried to push backward with his legs to shove Nate off of him. Nothing worked. "Nooooo!"



The pillow was pressed tightly back in place, cutting off his scream as the firestorm of pain shot straight from his ravaged hole to his brain. His body was seeping rivers of sweat. Now he fought against the pillow pressed tightly to his face, in addition to everything else. Fighting the pain. Fighting to breathe. Another merciless plunge deep into his guts. And, another. And, another. Nate's huge cock sank all the way into him again—ripping his burning hole in two. Battering him. Fucking him. Raping him. Using him like. . . . Like what they said. Like a pussy.



Sam leaned down and whispered under the pillow. "Promise you won't scream for help. Promise me big brother—and I'll take away the pillow." The teenager underneath the pillow screamed out again in tortured pain. "Promise!" He slammed a fist into the quarterback's side. Another moan. More choked gasps for air. Puppy dog whimpers. Sam made the offer again. "Promise . . . and I'll take away the pillow, Dean."



Dean nodded. Sam pulled the pillow away and then for argument's sake, slammed his fist twice more into Dean' side. The athlete's eyes bugged out. His lungs felt like they were going to collapse. He realized that he couldn't scream now, even if he had tried. Suddenly, all that mattered to him was oxygen. He needed air. He . . . needed . . . to . . . breathe. Desperately. He focused every remaining ounce of his energy on getting air into his burning lungs. On staying conscious. He didn't realize that his change in focus made his hole relax more, as if to open up hungrily and welcome Nate's savage thrusts. Something else was happening too. Just beneath his sense of awareness. An odd sensation. A tingling. A slow change. Every time that Nate snapped his hips forward. Every time that huge slab of meat sank into him. Every time. E-v-e-r-y . . . t-i-m-e.

Nate continued to slam his raging cock into that ravaged hole. "Oh yeah— Lucas was right about you, Dean. . . . You were holding out on us. You’re taking my cock like a pro. You’re fucking taking my cock like you’ve wanted it for years. Yeah—that's it. Open up, Dean. . . . Open up and take it. Take a real man's cock. You're mine now. Aren't you, pussyboy?"



No response. Dean was dazed. Lost in another universe. The powerful tight end smirked as he gazed down at their handsome team leader. Helpless. Being held down by his younger brother so that Nate could rip through his cherry asshole. So that he could be fucked. So that he could open up and take a cock deep inside his hole. So that he could be transformed. Pussified. From the virile star athlete hunk that he was—and—into the cock-hungry man cunt that he was well on his way to becoming before the morning sunrise. The pussy that they would own. Control. Totally.



Maybe Dean was trying to block out the pain, the humiliation, the knowledge of what was going to come. Later. It was inevitable. He would not be able to stop it now. Trying not to give in to this terrible pain, or was it something else that his body was starting to feel? His eyes were clenched shut. His breathing was becoming more ragged. The panic of realization was beginning to set in. Nate lifted one hand and slapped the handsome athlete's face viciously.



"Answer me, cunt!" Dean' eyes fluttered open. Eyes red. Swollen. Tears of pain. Tears of anguish. Humiliation.



Dean blinked several times and stared up into those dark, angry eyes. He lifted his head and stared between their bodies. Sweat poured from Nate's heavily chiseled torso and cascaded downward to mix with his own on his chest and abs. He looked farther down between his upturned and widespread legs. Nate's massive cock punched into his aching hole. Over. And, over. And, over again. The thick, steel-hard shaft pistoned relentlessly. In. Out. In. And, out. Shit! I’m taking the whole thing. . . . All of it inside my. . . . Fuck . . . what . . . are . . . they . . . doing . . . to . . . me? I’m taking Nate’s cock. His whole cock in my. . . . He couldn't believe that the full length of that huge chunk of meat was sinking inside him with each thrust. He couldn't believe that his hole was opening up and taking it. All of it. All the way. Nate's heavy, cum-laden balls slapped against his butt with each invasion. Loud. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.



Something else was happening. The searing pain his hole had been experiencing from the onset of its rape was lessening. It was less pain now and more . . . fullness. Suddenly, Dean was acutely aware of the tingling that had erupted deep inside his body. It had started slowly and built outward from the base of his own thick cock. It was beginning to radiate outward—throughout his fuck zone. What was it? Could it be that he was beginning to accept what they had told him? Was he hungry for it? Had he always been hungry for it? His mind refused to accept the thought. His heart refused to accept the thought. But, his body knew. His body knew before his mind and heart were able to process and accept it. His own fuck tool was betraying him. It was stiffening. It was starting to leak precum. This can’t be happening! I’m not a cunt! I’m not a man cunt. Not . . . a . . . pussy . . . boy . . . that likes to get fucked up the ass. He tried to shake those thoughts from his clouded brain. It was something else. It had to be something else. It had to be an adrenaline rush. The fear. The pain. The moment. Anything but his worst nightmare. His hole couldn't be enjoying it. He couldn't be enjoying it. Liking it? What was he feeling? Why is my cock getting hard? This isn’t right. Something’s wrong. . . . Something’s really wrong. He prayed nobody else would notice. His cock slowly crept upward and kissed at his belly. Reaching toward his navel. Leaking precum. Large drops oozed like crystal tears from the wide piss slit to pool in his navel and stream across his washboard abs. He couldn't control it. He prayed no one else would notice it while he tried to figure it out. To figure out how to stop it.



Dean tried to will his battered body to take up the fight once again. He tried to kick backward with his muscular, quarterback legs. He tried . . . everything. It was no use. He had no strength left. He had no fight left. His head fell back against the dresser and he gazed up at Nate. The evil look of satisfaction in those eyes was almost as terrifying as the fucking his upturned hole was taking at the mercy of his teammate's giant cock. He looked up and behind him into the eyes of his lifelong trusted friend. His closest friend. His best friend. Sam's eyes had always gazed at him with praise and adoration. With friendship. They were eyes that Dean had always thought mirrored his own soul. He shifted his gaze to his best buddy's thick, dripping cock.



Sam Winchester caught the stare. He grabbed the thick shaft of his throbbing cock and bent it downward, rubbing the huge leaking head against the quarterback's luscious lips. Lips, now contorted with humiliation and searing pain. As he pulled his cock back slightly, a single silvery bead of precum clutched at his brother's lips. A shimmering thread of precum draped from the tip of his drooling monster and roped its way down to his best buddy's lips. Waiting to guide another glistening droplet of precum to its target. His big brother's lips.

Dean resisted a sudden strange urge, coming from nowhere, to reach out with his tongue and taste the tangy fluid seeping from his buddy’s cock slit. He had to fight this. His very soul depended on it.



"You want it, buddy? You want my cock down your throat?" Sam asked. He bent forward and lowered his voice to a husky whisper. "Yeah—I bet you do. You want it, don't you? You’ve wanted it all along. Haven’t you? C'mon, Dean—tell me you want it." Sam bent even closer to his older brother's face as if to seduce him. To convince him. To open Dean up to his own hidden need—buried deep inside. "Tell me you need me to fuck your mouth with my cock," he cooed seductively. He rubbed more of his clear nectar on Dean' lips, trying to part them with the large, flared head of his cock. He tried to push more of his masculine flavor into his brother's mouth—wanting him to get used to it. He wanted to get Dean to like it. And, this is just the beginning. Sam smiled at that thought and his cock hardened even more. His big brother was going to be their pussy for a long . . . long time. Even more, Dean—you’re going to be my pussy. And—you’re going to like it. You’re going to learn to crave it. He was going to learn to live for it. He had no choice. They would make the choices for him from here on. He had no way out. He was trapped. No . . . way . . . out. Dean was going down. Still, he seemed to be having trouble understanding. He was having trouble accepting the program and obediently taking his role in the new play book. The pussy role. Sam smiled again. It was okay. They had time. Dean would break. He would go down.



Dean closed his eyes and shook his head violently. His sides ached from the pummeling he had received. His head pounded from the slaps and the fists that had connected viciously. His no-longer-virgin asshole was on fire. It felt as though it had been ripped in two, shredded by the relentless assault of Nate's huge, baseball bat-sized cock. He wasn't sure if he ‘could’ fight anymore. The desire was there—in spades. Right now, he wanted to kill Nate. He wanted to kill Lucas Scott. And, Sam ? His little brother? His closest friend? Yeah. Some brother. . . . Yeah—right now he wanted to kill Sammy, too. Tears streamed down his face from his swollen eyes. But, he just could not do what Sam was ordering him to do. Not now. Not ever. He could not do what he knew all three of them were waiting for. He could not beg for it. He would not beg for it. No way. Never! They may as well kill him. Here. Now. He would not give them the satisfaction. He would rather die. At this point, Dean knew that he was at their mercy. Helpless. Unable to fight. Unable to escape. Unable to resist. He knew that he had to do whatever they wanted. But, he would . . . not . . . give . . . them . . . that final sense of satisfaction. He . . . would . . . not beg for it. He clenched his teeth and choked back his building rage. They were his friends. His teammates. How could they do this to him? Why would they do this to him?



"Not gonna beg, huh? Well, the night's still young," Nate snarled as he snapped his hips forward again, burying his cock deep inside the quarterback's ravished hole. No longer cherry. No longer his hole. Their hole. Now. He laughed at the expression that creased the quarterback's face. Terror. Anger. Pain. And, humiliation. The stud muffin All-State quarterback was being used like a pussy. Just like all those cheerleaders that Dean had plowed. Only now, it was his legs that were high in the air. Now, it was his pussy that was being plowed. It was his pussy that was being stretched open. Raped. Used. By a man’s cock. Three men’s cocks before the night was over. He would be turned into a cock-trained pussy before the sun came up. Trained and conditioned to accept . . . no . . . to crave cock.



Nate laughed aloud as he continued his vicious assault on Dean' fucked open and cock battered hole. "Go on, Sammy. Fuck your brother's mouth! Fuck him hard. Get your big cock good and worked up so you can come claim some of this pussy for yourself."



"Gonna fuck your throat good, Dean. Gonna fuck your mouth and you know what? You're gonna love it. You're gonna end up begging for it. Sooner or later—you’re gonna beg for it. Why don't you just go ahead and give it up now? C'mon, big brother—beg for it. You can do it, Dean—beg me to fuck your pussy mouth. Tell me how bad you want your little brother's cock in your mouth," Sam hissed as he laid out the rules—showing who was in charge. Not Dean. Not his best friend. No. His body now belonged to Sam. And to Nate. And, to Lucas Scott. He let his cock slip from his brother mouth so he could answer. Silence. Dean was not going to give it up. Not that easily. He shook his head violently. Without waiting to give his jock brother time to rethink his answer, he shoved his throbbing meat back between those luscious lips. "Suck it, Dean. Suck my cock while Nate turns you into a pussy. You love it don't you? You love our cocks in both your holes. You love getting fucked in both of your pussy holes at the same time. Don't you? Both of your holes love being stuffed full of cock at the same time. Don’t they? Fucked, by real men's cocks. You’re not a man. Admit it. You really want it. Don't you?" More whimpers from Dean. Only whimpers. No response. No admissions. No acceptance of defeat. Even as his throat opened up to accept the full length of his brother’s huge cock with each downward power thrust.



Lucas bent down close to the senior quarterback's face and watched for several moments as Sam's cock slid in and out of his tightly pressed lips. With each inward thrust, he could hear the suction being created in Dean' throat. He watched the drops of sweat fly as Sam savagely thrust his massively thick fuck tool into his brother's mouth. He glanced down between their victim and Nate. He watched Nate's huge cock pounding in and out of that stretched hole. That pussy. Their pussy. He grinned as sinisterly as Nate had been for the last several minutes. His eyes focused on the raging hard-on between Dean' legs. This time, not Nate's. This time, the other raging hard-on. Dean Winchester's stiff shaft. He reached down and grabbed the heavy chunk of meat, wrapped his hand around it, and started pumping it. He soon matched Nate's power thrusts with his hand movements. An involuntary moan escaped from Dean’ cock-stuffed lips. Lucas looked back at the handsome athlete's face and laughed. "So—you like that, huh? You like getting your mouth and your pussy stuffed with man cock at the same time? You were holding out on us, weren’t you? This isn’t the limp cock of a straight stud muffin who doesn’t like getting used like a cunt." He stroked Dean’ throbbing cock harder—using the quarterback’s own leaking precum to lube the full length of the shaft and that bulbous head. Another low, guttural moan erupted from Dean’ fucked open throat. "Yeah—this is the cock of a dick whore cum sucking pussy boy that likes it. You like getting fucked, Dean. You like getting cock shoved in every hole you’ve got. Don’t you?"



Dean Winchester closed his eyes in humiliation and disgust. He didn't like it. He couldn’t explain his hard-on to them. He couldn’t even explain it to himself. But, he knew one thing for sure. He hated it. He loathed it. He had to hate it. He just could not be like . . . that. He knew it was only going to get worse now. Now that they had discovered he had thrown a rod. Why did I go hard? Why? He told himself again that it was the adrenaline rush. The fear. His blood, rushing through his ravaged body in terror. That had to be it. He felt like he was going to throw up. Right now, he just wanted to die. He wanted to end the pain. End the torment. End the humiliation. Once and for all.

Sam pulled his cock from Dean' mouth. It made a popping sound as it slipped free from those tightly suctioning lips. "Answer him, faggot! That's what you are now. You’re a faggot. You’re a cocksucking pussy faggot, Dean. Our pussy faggot. You want our cocks in you . . . don't you? You're hard for it. Aren't you?"



Dean gasped for air. He couldn't even lift his head up from the dresser now. He was too exhausted. It hurt too much to move. He hurt too much. His whole body ached as though he'd been tackled by every man on both the offensive and defensive teams. All of them. At once. He was at the bottom of the dog pile. But, the biggest blow was to his manhood. His ego. His masculine pride. His identity as a star athlete. As a man. They were trying to strip it all from him. They were trying to turn him into a cunt. A pussy—to be owned and used. He felt himself slipping. He was so tired. But, he had to hold on to what was left of his pride. His manhood. His manhood. Not theirs. Long seconds passed as his brother glared down at him. Waiting for his answer. The answer that would complete his total degradation. His total defeat. That one, final humiliation. No. Not that. He would not give that to them. He mustered what little strength he could find and shook his head. "No. . . . " he choked out in little more than a whisper. "I hate it."

"What's that? You say you want more?" Nate huffed as he built up his strokes into the teenager's tight hole. Trying to make each stroke dig as deep as possible. Deep enough to tear beyond his raped pussy. Deep enough to tear its way right into his soul—ripping apart and rearranging the very fabric of his self-knowledge. His self-confidence. His . . . ‘self.’



"No!" Dean choked out again. He felt it as it swept over him. It was like a huge thundercloud had opened up and dropped a deluge over his soul. It was strong. It was intense. It was sickening.



"You gonna keep fighting us?" Sam asked with a rough slap against Dean' cheek.



"No," the athlete whimpered.



"Beg for it," Nate ordered harshly.



"No," Dean choked out. "Go ahead and fuck me. Go ahead and shove your cock back down my throat. . . . Just do it. But, I won't beg," he snarled defiantly as he tried to hold on to the last shreds of his spirit. Sam began rubbing his dripping cock across his face. Lucas reached between Nate and Dean and grabbed their pussy boy's nuts. He squeezed. Hard. Dean grimaced and yelped loudly. Lucas squeezed harder. "I . . . won't . . . beg!" he screamed as he tried to will the pain out of his nuts. "I . . . will . . . not . . . beg!"







Lucas barked. "Tell us what you want, Dean. You heard Nate. Beg for it."



"Fuck you," Dean whispered shallowly as he reached deeply inside his soul and found a little more energy to fight. They might beat the crap out of him and break him physically. They might rape him all night long. He knew he could not stop them. They were all going to fuck him tonight. Repeatedly, if he knew Nate as well as he thought he did. But they sure as hell were not going to break him down mentally. He would not give into it the way they wanted him to.



"You want it, Dean. You want our cocks. You want to be our pussy. Admit it," Sam taunted as he stepped in and started rubbing his dripping cock head against his brother's face.



"No," Dean answered. He winced in pain and his mouth opened in a silent yell as Sam’s cock sank between his lips in that moment. He knew what they wanted to hear. His three closest friends on the planet. Raping him. Using him. Turning him into a pussy. He hurt so badly he wanted to die. He hurt so badly right now, he wanted to kill them. He would kill them–if he could get his hands on them. If he had his way, there would be three less people riding the bus back home in the morning. If. Sam’s cock slipped from his mouth—another opportunity for the ravaged quarterback to admit what they wanted to hear.



"I won't beg for it. I hate it. I won't be your pus. . . ." His words were cut short by his little brother's thick cock snaking its way back down his raw throat. Nate lunged one last time. Deep inside him. He felt that huge cock expand inside him even larger. Its width had to be like a coke can. And then he felt it. The explosion. Deep inside him. He couldn't believe it. He felt Nate's thick, hot load splattering against the walls of his thoroughly fucked hole.



"Ungghh. . . . Yessss!" Nate hissed as his cock zeroed in and slammed home one last time. Into it's newly acquired home. Into that hot, sweet ass—right where it belonged. Dean' new pussy. His cock erupted deep inside the quarterback. Claiming Dean' pussy as his own. His newest pussy. Breeding him like a bitch. Shooting jet after jet of his potent cream deep inside. "Yeesssss. . . . You're turning into a great pussy, Dean," Nate gasped as his cock continued to bathe his new cunt with his scalding seed.

Nate collapsed on top of the bound athlete. Their sweat-soaked bodies seemed to meld together. To become one. His thick cock, still buried deep inside Dean, continued dribbling the remnants of his volcanic eruption. Continuing to lay claim to his newest possession. Continuing the humiliation. His breathing came in short, rapid gasps. Dean', in choked gasps. Choked, between each inward thrust of Sam's still pummeling cock down his throat. Nate moved upward and chewed hard on Dean' right nipple. Between bites, he mumbled, "Mmm. Yeah. You're a great fuck, Dean."



A burning glow seeped throughout Nate's muscular jock body as he collapsed on top of the All-State quarterback. Total bliss. Bliss, sweetened and intensified by the tremendous feeling of power over his latest conquest. The quarterback, pinned beneath him. The quarterback, whose face was flushed crimson with humiliation. With shame. His asshole, still stuffed to the hilt with his thick, still spasming cock. Nate knew at that moment, with his cum leaking from Dean' bruised and battered hole, that the athlete wanted to crawl into the deepest hole and disappear. Never again to be seen or heard from. By anyone. Ever. But, Nate wasn't going to let that happen. Not after pumping the biggest load of his eighteen years deep into that tight butt. Not after turning Dean into his personal pussy. Not now. Not ever. Nate had too many plans for Dean Winchester.



Sam felt himself getting close. He did not want to cum. Not in Dean' mouth. He wanted to follow Nate and lay claim to that tight hole. He, too, wanted to rape that sweet pussy. He wanted Dean Winchester to be his very own cunt, too. His lifelong best friend. A cock sucking pussy. He pulled out of the athlete's mouth and stared down at his brother. Tears mixed with beads of sweat coated Dean' face in the glistening redness of his humiliation. He bent down close to his bro's ear and whispered, "You ready for more, Dean? Ready for my cock in your hole? Ready to become my pussy now?"



"No. . . . " Dean said in disgust. It scared him. Was he? Was he really their pussy now? If not now. . . . When? After they had each fucked him a half-dozen more times during the night? After they had each fucked his ravaged mouth that many more times? After he had been forced to eat gallons of their thick cum? Why did he have a hard-on?

Dean never felt so used. So degraded. So disgusted and humiliated in his entire life. Powerless, to prevent this plunging spiral downward into his very own personal hell. A new round of stinging, burning tears of embarrassment and shame welled up in his eyes. He tried to fight it. Tried to choke back those sobs, those tell tale signs of misery and defeat. But it was too hard. He was just too far gone, too drained to do anything about it at this point. He'd never felt so bad in his entire life. All, at the hands of his three best friends in the world. Why? What could he have done to deserve this? He racked his brain for something. Anything! Some reason. Some clue as to why they had beaten him to a pulp. Why they were taking turns raping the shit out of him. Trying to break him. And, he was pretty close to breaking. He had to hold on. He was so fatigued at this point, that even thinking was becoming an effort. He just had to hold on. Nothing else mattered. Nothing. Don't give it up. Not mentally. Don’t let them take that away from you. Just . . . hang . . . in . . . there, Winchester! he silently commanded himself.

Nate slowly pulled back—watching as his long, still half-hard tool eased out of Dean' thoroughly fucked hole. Inch by inch. Savoring each delicious sensation of that pair of cunt lips clamped tightly around his shaft. Clenched, as if Dean' hole didn't want it to leave. Dean let out a muffled moan as Nate pulled back even further and yanked the thickest part of his dick backward, out through the spasming ring of muscle. His ravaged hole gaped open, allowing some of Nate's rich cream to leak out and run down his upturned crack. Lubricating the entire area for the next invasion. For Sam Winchester's invasion.



There was no hesitation. No rest. Dean closed his eyes and winced as Sam's cock slammed into his aching hole. His own little brother's cock. Inside him. Fucking him. Like a pussy. Using him. Like a pussy. Just like Nate had done. Just like Lucas Scott’s would do next. He was sure. Before he could scream out in pain, Lucas 's cock filled his mouth. He automatically began licking and sucking on the back-up quarterback's thick cock. Without instruction. Without threats. Without being slammed by fists.



Nate watched with sinister contentment as Sam's cock used that natural lubrication that he had deposited just moments before, to slam deeply into Dean Winchester's hole. The Dean Winchester. The all-state quarterback. The school’s hero. The big man on campus. Sam's very own brother. Now, his pussy. Their pussy. He glanced forward and watched as Lucas pounded his youthful cock down the quarterback's throat. Another demonic grin creased his face as he listened to the hunk athlete moan in pain as his rape continued. The rape that would break him down. Shatter his ego. Break his spirit.



Nate stepped forward and leaned in close to the athlete's face. Sweat, tears, saliva, and cum streaked his smooth skin. He watched from his bird's eye perch for a few moments as the exhausted athlete lay still. Mouth open. Accepting Lucas pummeling cock. Reluctantly but not fighting it now. Accepting it. He glanced at his watch. The rape had been going on now for four and half hours. "How you doing, Dean? Getting tired? Tired of fighting the reality of it all? It's gonna happen, whether you want it to or not. Stop fighting it. Just let it happen. You know it, buddy. Deep down inside that pussy cunt of yours, you know. Just relax and let go. Give it up. You can rest, you know. All you have to do is admit what you are. It will go so much easier on you in the long run if you just give it up and admit it."



Lucas nodded in response to Nate's gesture and roughly slipped his cock from their victim's sucking mouth. He reached down and grabbed Dean' head and forced it upward so that the quarterback could watch his brother's cock pound into him. His little brother. His most trusted friend. Sam was angrily violating his ass. Mating with him. Getting ready to pump another hot load of thick cum deep inside to blend with Nate's. And, Lucas knew that he would be next.



"Watch, Dean. Watch that huge cock fucking your hole. Watch it turn you into a pussy," Lucas taunted. "Look at your hole opening up and taking Sam's fuck pole. Do you see it? Do you see your hole opening up to it? It's hungry, Dean. It's hungry for cock. Your hole's hungry for your brother's cock. Your hole already knows what it is. It knows that it is hungry to be stuffed with dick. Look at it, Dean. Look long and hard. That . . . is . . . a . . . pussy."



Dean Winchester watched in shame as his brother's cock continued its assault into his ravaged hole, turning it into a private possession. Turning him into what they wanted him to be? No! Never! He would not beg. He would not do what they wanted. He stared between their two bodies. His, lying flat and helpless on the top of the dresser. Powerful legs. Sailing, upward. Draped over Sam's muscle-cut shoulders. His little brother's body. Poised. Above him. Muscles, bulging. Sweat, dripping from every pore as his beefy thighs flexed in preparation for their next forward thrust. His massive cock, driving deeply into him with each powerful snap of his hips. Fucking him. Raping him. Using him like a whore. Turning into a pussy. He stared up into Sam's eyes. Eyes, filled with lust. Eyes, filled with rage fed by that lust. Eyes, filed with another rage? Maybe? Was that it? Was it rage? Was Sammy angry at him? Had he done something? Could that be it? If so—what?



"What . . . do . . . you . . . want . . . from . . . me?" Dean choked out through his fucked raw throat. He glanced to his left and stared at Nate's massive cock. The cock that had torn its way inside him earlier. The cock that had brutally ripped his virginity out of him forever. The cock that he knew would be using him again . . . tonight . . . repeatedly. And what about tomorrow night? Next week? Next month? He looked up into Nate's rugged face.



"We told you, Dean. Admit it," Nate sneered. "Admit what you are. You're a pussy. You're a whore. You love cock. You need cock. Admit it." He nodded to Lucas who lowered the quarterback's head and immediately pressed his dripping cock back between those swollen lips. Dean' jaw opened wider and he shoved the full length inside, pounding the head against the back of the athlete's throat. He grinned again in satisfaction. Dean was too tired to fight them at this point. He probably hurt too much to fight any longer. The handsome quarterback immediately began sucking his cock as it slid down his raw throat.



"I'm gonna cum," Sam grunted as he continued slamming his huge prick into his helpless big brother. He knew that he could only stroke it into Dean' tight hole a few more times before he shot his load. "Mmm. . . . Gonna cum. . . . "



"Me too," Lucas moaned as he pounded his cock into Dean' mouth.



The two teammates looked into each other's eyes and read the timing perfectly—like a well-rehearsed play out on the football field. Big cum-filled balls tightened and raised into firing position, ready to shoot buckets of hot cum deep into their pussy cunt cocksucker. They both let out deep groans as their cocks exploded simultaneously. Sam's, staking its claim on the male pussy hole that he had so savagely raped. Lucas 's, flooding the cavern of Dean' mouth. His thick cum gushed down the athlete's throat to flood his belly.



The quarterback, spread-eagle across the top of the dresser—covered in glistening pools of sweat. . . . Covered in tears. . . . Covered in his own saliva. . . . And, covered in cum—stared at the motel room ceiling. His movie star quality face burned with shame. He winced as his brother roughly yanked his thick cock from his raped hole. Strangely, it left him feeling empty. ‘Invaded.’ And then—‘deserted.’ He began shaking uncontrollably. Nate, Sam, and Lucas surrounded him. Dean stared into their eyes. One at a time. He felt sick. He still felt like he would throw up. He ached. His throat felt like it would be raw for months. His gaping asshole, still leaking cum, felt as though it had been split into a billion pieces. No, it wasn't his asshole. Not anymore. Not after what they had done to him. What he knew they would continue to do to him for the rest of the night. It wasn't his asshole any longer. Could it be true? What they had said? Was it a pussy now? They had done just what they said they were going to do. They had fucked him like a pussy. Was it a pussy? Was he a pussy? Their pussy?



"Say it, Dean," Nate commanded forcefully. "You're a pussy. Just admit it."



The dazed athlete closed his eyes in disgust. "Fuck you. . . . "



"I think you've got that wrong there, pussy. Fuck you! We're gonna fuck you 'til the sun comes up. You love cock in your pussy. You need a cock fucking your man cunt," Nate directed. "That hard cock between your legs doesn't lie, son. You need it, Dean. You crave it. Now, you know it's true. Just admit it."



"Go to hell," Dean said weakly. Total defeat. Total domination. Or, so he thought. He didn't realize this was only the beginning of his descent into hell. The beginning. And, the end. The end of his life as he had known it. The life that he had controlled up until a few short hours ago. A life that was now controlled by these . . . friends?



"You're a pussy," Nate continued. "We've got all night, Dean. Why don't you give yourself a break? Why not make it easier on yourself?"



Dean opened his eyes and stared up into his brother's boyish face. Still, streaming with sweat from the violent raping of his mouth and his asshole. Was it still an asshole? They had fucked it like a pussy. Was it an asshole, still? Or, was it like they said? A pussy? Was he beginning to doubt himself now, too? He studied Sam's powerful chest. He stared at his bro's huge cock, now hanging limply between his legs. He looked backward and stared at Lucas 's cock, still dripping. Finally, he focused to his left. He gazed at Nate's larger-than-life cock. Still, half-hard. That huge cock that he knew would fuck him again. And again. Repeatedly, before it was time for them to get on the bus for the long ride back home. Home. Suddenly it seemed like a dream. What did they have planned for him after tonight? Was that dream going to be one nightmare after another from this moment on? He looked at Nate's huge nutsac. Those nuts that had flooded his hole with his man juice. Those nuts that he knew would be flooding his mouth and his ass a lot more before Nate was finished with him.



"Say it, Dean," Lucas snarled. "You're a pussy."



"Admit it, Dean," Sam ordered. "You're our pussy."



"Say it, Dean. . . . " Nate joined in sinisterly. "Say it. Admit it. You need cock. You want our cocks. Don't keep lying to yourself. You know it's true. Your cock don't lie, Dean. It's what you want. Deep down inside. You know you want to be our pussy."



The exhausted quarterback nodded to his three teammates—gesturing them to lean closer.



Sam, Nate, and Lucas glanced at each other and then leaned close to Dean' sweat, tear, and cum streaked face. Their own faces breaking into grins. Expectation. Here it was. The moment they had been waiting for. The moment they had been planning for so long. He was going to admit what they wanted to hear. They had broken him. He was going to give up the fight. They had won the battle. They were sure of it, now. He was going to admit defeat and give them what they had been waiting to hear.



Dean stared first into Lucas's eyes. Then, Sam's. Finally, he stared into Nathan Scott's dark, stormy eyes. Eyes that were now filled with a sense of satisfaction. Suddenly, a wicked smile creased Dean Winchester’s face. Despite his agony. His lips curled into a tight ‘O’ and spit directly into Nate's rugged face. "Fuck you."