“If you’re going to do what I think you are,” Colt said, still clearly amused, “you better burn that thing afterwards.”
Liam made a beeline to my chair. He took the funnel in one hand the end of the clear plastic hose in the other.
“I’m going to need an extra set of hands,” he said, nodding at Colt.
Colt just shook his head in bewilderment as he stepped forward. Travis aimed his ever-present phone at us; I knew that he was itching to film what was about to come next.
Liam started to press the opening of the hose against my closed lips. I moved my head to pull away from him. He leaned over so his mouth was close to my right ear.
“Just open up,” he said. “If not, we could always flip you over and stick this into your other hole. Shit, I’ve already got a bowl of something that’d make it slide in real easy.”
The teeniest bit of fear surged through me. I felt like an exhausted deer who could see the predator stalking it but didn’t have the energy to run. Nature took over – the biology and chemistry of accepting death, or perhaps something even worse.
My mouth went slack before I had even made a conscious decision to lay back and think of England. Liam’s hot, stale beer breath collided with my ear again.
“Good girl.”
Liam’s nimble fingers quickly inserted the end of the tube onto my tongue; my lips sort of just closed around it. He used one hand to hold it in place, still unsure of how compliant I’d remain, and held the funnel in the air with the other.
“Let’s load him up,” Liam said, nodding at the bowl.
“Load him with his own loads!” Travis howled.
As Colt positioned the bowl near the funnel, Travis moved himself closer to get the best shot for his recording.
“Remember to be careful, Trav,” Liam said. “I don’t want to be in your video. Don’t show anything other than the little cum-slut here.”
Travis nodded; I knew he wasn’t one to push back against Liam when he was being serious. I looked at the camera. I instinctively tried to pull my hands forward to cover my hard on, but the chain from the handcuffs clattering against the wood reminded me that that wasn’t an option.
“Here it cums,” Colt announced.
From the corner of my eye, I saw him tipping the bowl into the funnel above my head. I quickly felt warm, salty liquid flooding into my mouth. I knew that my jizz wasn’t viscous, but I still hadn’t expected it to flow throw the tube so rapidly.
I immediately started gagging. I began to rock forward, trying to dislodge the hose from my lips, while I simultaneous tried to swallow as much of the jizz as I could so I wouldn’t choke to death. My eyes started to tear up from the overwhelming sensation attacking my taste buds and the gagging feeling that had been caused by the cum shooting straight into my gullet.
“I don’t think he likes the taste, bruh,” Colt said, laughing.
“Should have eaten more pineapple,” Liam teased.
Travis stepped closer to me. He positioned the camera so that it showed the jizz emptying into the funnel. Then he panned down to reveal that it was draining into my mouth. He slowly stepped backwards, which I assumed allowed for the wide shot that revealed my cum-soaked body and bright-red boner.
As I struggled, I pressed the surface of my tongue against the opening of the hose. I allowed me a moment to frantically take in a few deep breaths through my nose without fear of choking. My head was spinning; I was on the verge of passing out.
“I think there’s a kink in the hose or something,” Colt said. “It’s backing up on my end.”
Liam scanned the length of the plastic tube. It was obvious that it wasn’t bent or clogged. He did a double take to make sure the end was still between my lips. The positioning of my mouth must have changed when I’d blocked the tube, because he looked at me like he knew that I was the root of the disruption.
Suddenly, I felt him feeding the hose deeper into my mouth. My tongue flailed, trying to keep it covered, but it was impossible. Within a second, the tube jammed up against my tonsils. I started trying to pull my arms and legs free from where they were secured. Every ounce of me wanted to rip the tube out of my mouth.
My gag reflex activated. Choking sounds filled the room; tears dripped down onto my cheeks. Just like I’d never been roofied, I’d never been waterboarded. I hardly felt the need to imagine that the latter was “like” what was happening. It was happening.
“That seemed to clear things up,” Colt said. “He’s chugging this shit like he’s Elton John.”
“He sounds like he’s gagging on a big dick,” Travis guffawed.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he has,” Liam said accusingly.
“Really?” Colt asked, in what sounded like an attempt to figure out if Liam had been serious.
The end of the tube suddenly pushed past my tonsils. It butted up against the top of my esophagus and then slowly started working its way down. My Adam’s apple began to vibrate with intense pressure as I felt the tip of the hose stop right at that spot in my throat.
Stop. Stop. Stop it. Please. I can’t.
I desperately tried to breathe through my nose while simultaneously gagging as my body revolted against the intruder. The warm cum was flooding down my throat; everything felt slick and salty. I could tell that my stomach was expanding; my belly was beginning to bulge out a little from the massive amount of liquid being forced into it.
“Look at his throat,” Liam announced. “You can see where the tube is. The whole top part above the Adam’s apple is stretched out.”
“What the fuck, bruh?” Colt asked, shaking his head.
“It’s like he’s a deep-throating pro,” Travis said. “If he joins a frat in the fall, he’s going to have some happy brothers.”
My over-exerted nine-inch rod bounced to and fro as I tried to force myself to relax the muscles in my throat. I felt so trapped and debased… but I still felt unbelievably horny. The jizz spilling into my stomach seemed to be acting as an aphrodisiac – its warmth radiating outwards from my core and threatening to reach my most sensitive places.
I finally managed to give in; I wasn’t sure how I did it. My throat stopped spasming and accepted the hose for what it was. I stopped bucking against the chair slouched back against the wooden slats.
“No fucking way!” Colt cried out, looking down into the bowl. “He’s swallowed so much. I can’t believe he isn’t retching.”
Liam peered into the bowl, too, while making sure to not lose his grip on the tube. His defined abs brushed against my bicep; my cock twitched as if it had nerve endings embedded throughout my entire body.
“The bowl holds a gallon,” Liam replied, “so he’s drunk at least half that much.”
The tears started to well up in my eyes again – not because I was gagging, but as a response to realizing that I’d just downed more baby batter than most women ever would in their entire lives. My stomach let out a loud gurgling noise; a sense of pressure was mounting within me.
“Looks like it’s stopping again,” Colt stated.
“Didn’t you hear his stomach, bruh?” Travis asked. “Probably no room left in there.”
“Well, let’s wrap things up for now,” Liam said. “We want to get to Chico’s before it closes.”