Slither into Ruin

*** SLITHER INTO RUIN ***

*** Chapter 4 ***

*** Medusa's Aid ***

The Topaz Shoal Yacht Club for insufferable, rich assholes was a sleek, imposing slab of dark glass.

Marsh and Ken retreated behind a manicured hedge, putting them right into view of anyone driving past but out of sight for pedestrians. Marsh was drumming on his balls, flinching as he found the most sensitive spots.

"Another dose?" Ken asked and pulled the Viper's Bite from their common backpack.

"It has just s-... stopped fu-... fucking burning," Marsh gasped. He grabbed his balls and squeezed but still couldn't breathe. "I can't... do it my-... myself."

"Love to help, man," Ken said, looking excited. "Spread your legs."

Marsh sucked his lips in and closed his eyes. After ten seconds of holding his breath, Ken's knee landed on his nuts as if the shorter hunk wanted to inflict permanent damage.

Marsh sunk to all fours in the mulch, eyes wide open, taking deep breaths.

Ken lowered the phone. "Gonna call this one `a nutjob well done'. Hey man, I'm at almost 15k followers. Been a weird day. Wonder if I can make money like that..."

Marsh would have given a thumbs up but his body was paralyzed. Somehow the pain was still increasing. Contractions spread all the way up his abs and down to his knees with cruel slowness. And just as the worst feeling he had ever felt plateaued, his throat got tight again.

"Spice," Marsh said and led a hand to his backside, to shakily pull his compression shorts over his glutes. His dick was achingly hard. In a way, being horny kept him sane through the hurt.

"More Viper's Sting?"

"Got something better?"

Marsh positioned the selfie-stick and filmed. The snake retreated into his pants, tightening its `cockring' grip.

"Yo what's up?" Marsh said at the camera. "Heard you're a fan of my hot hole. Guess what, it's about to get hotter."

Ken hesitated. "Uh, this one translates as Python's Kiss. It's ten times as spicy as the Viper. It's probably like liquid Cayenne Pepper. You sure, man?"

Anytime Marsh shifted himself of the camera enough to leave part of his neck out of focus, the serpent snapped along his front or back to press down anywhere it could. The bodybuilder's voice sounded croaky.

"Fuck it. I know I got the hottest hole. Don't be jealous, bro, hehe."

He raised the uPhone to get a good shot of the injection into his ass. When Ken squeezed, Marsh brought the camera to his own face to capture the moment. He'd tough it out just fine. He was used to the burn by now. He was winning against the snake.

Within seconds, the pain was beyond Viper-levels. Marsh's muscles were vibrating with terror. Any commitment to keeping his expression controlled was blown away. With eyes rolled into his skull, he grimaced as the sting sliced into his guts.

The tense bodybuilder pressed his lips together to stifle a cry, ending up frothing.

A slow heat rose alongside the sting, making him overheat.

He got up, handed Ken the selfie-stick and pulled his pants down. With his six inches free, he jerked off rapidly at the camera. Every motion made the burn worse, but jerking off felt too good to be ruined by the Python's Kiss.

"Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, so hot, ass one fire, fuck fuck fffff-"

Ken walked around him to get a good angle. Cars rolled by just beyond the hedge.

Marsh was lightly squatting to keep from falling over as the heat and pain dizzied him. Every fiber in his body was tightened. Only his elbow was moving to rub his sweaty shaft.

"Uh uh uh... hurts so bad uh uh... getting kinda... high? Uh uh ughhh!"

He cummed within seconds. The trebling and rapid jerking made his cumshot fly across his thighs. The next two loads followed.

He didn't want to stop, but now the oversensitivity added to his pain so he held still, hand in a death-grip on his dick. Ken got a close-up of the cumshot and posted the clip.

"Well fuck," Ken said and offered wet wipes. "That was crazy. I need a wank, too, man, but you went ham on the poor little guy."

Marsh wiped the streaks off and pulled his pants up. His breath didn't calm down. He was getting light headed.

"I'm gonna die. Don't do Python's Kiss, bro. Just let the snake choke you out and rest in peace."

"That bad?" Ken said and chuckled.

Marsh couldn't help but laugh along. He punched the shorter man in the chest. "Never thought I'd jerk it with your face in front of me."

"Ew, shut your fag mouth." Ken lightly kicked him in the shin.

"Hey, I'm not the one who owns a shiny thong," Marsh said and took the other in a headlock. "Wanna lick my cum? Go ahead, bruh, hehe."

Bryce returned, furiously wiping at his chin. "We're fucked. The guy thought I was doing cocaine. I'm not getting on a Topaz Shoal boat, even if one of one of you were renting it."

"Ugh," Marsh said. "We're fucked in the ass."

"Hard," Ken added. "By a ten inch cock."

"But," Bryce said, smirking devilishly, "I have a better plan. I saw the Medusa."

"Who the fuck?" Marsh asked. He was sweating all over, getting so slippery that Ken could slide from the headlock as if lubed. The spice pain made him pleasantly dizzy. He rubbed his temples.

"Medusa is my uncle's yacht, dude. I know how to get in."

"We're stealing your yacht?" Marsh asked.

Brace shrugged. "We gotta steal a yacht and I'd rather deal with my uncle than the police."

"Let's go," Marsh said, took one step and regretted it. "Fffffuck, I can't move. Breathing's hard enough. My ass has to stay still or I'm gonna drop dead."

"Man up," Ken said and pushed him in the upper back.

Bryce grabbed Marsh's wrist and pulled, forcing Marsh to start walking. The ass burn shot up his guts with every movement. Waves of heat spread from his glutes, making him sweat more.

"Bruh, I feel crazy. Can you get high from spice up the ass?"

"Hahaha, I guess," Ken said. "If it's strong enough, maybe. And this stuff's directly from China so who knows what other shit they put in there."

The Topaz Shoal yachts weren't separated from the public piers. The boys could walk across the parking lot as if they owned the place, right toward the Medusa.

Bryce chuckled. "Marshmellow gets high as a kite from anal. Noted, dude. Hehe."

"Fuck you. I'm just a bit... floating."

"You walk like you got reamed, dude. Haha. How big a dick did you sit on?"

"Fuck you."

"Oh no," Bryce said and touched his throat. It was ringed by the serpent, which ran down his back and into the speedo.

The un-marked hunks both hammered Bryce's nuts, to the confusion of a family entering their parked car.

The trio raced to the end of the pier, where a little cabin served as fuel dock. Ken put down the backpack, threw his hoodie jacket next to it and searched for hot sauce.

"The lockbox combo is- hnngl" Bryce said quickly as he drummed on his balls and went to his knees with tears in his eyes, "one two three four."

"Seriously, man?" Ken said. "Is everyone in your family as stupid as you?"

While Bryce put his uPhone back on the selfie-stick, Marsh entered the tiny fuel dock cabin. Over twenty lockboxes were labeled with names. Assuming the swimmer's uncle was also a Henderson... Marsh returned outside with the keys seconds later.

Bryce's speedo was at his ankles. He kneed with legs spread and got the injection from the muscle boy in the silver thong while slowly jerking off, eyes on the horizon.

Marsh took the camera off him and panned to the sides. The ocean made for a nice backdrop but he wanted to make the public nature of it apparent. The people on the path and the parking lot definitely noticed that something was happening, even if they were too far to see details among the yachts.

The Python's Kiss was kicking in for Bryce. With every vein popping, every muscle strained, the lean prettyboy thrusted the air with a guttural growl.

"Aren't you a hot hole," Marsh said, chuckling.

Cum spurted from the model's bobbing dick, as he froze in forward humping position, face to the sky. Just as the last squirt landed on the pier, Ken reached over and nut-tapped the nude boy. Bryce went on all fours, whimpering.

"Bruh," Marsh said, "That was great. No homo. What do I caption it?"

Bryce raised a shaky arm and got his uPhone back to post the Clap himself.

Ken had grabbed the keys from the bodybuilder and started the Medusa. The moderate motorboat didn't have an enclosed cabin but there was a roof over it.

"Come on, bro," Marsh said and pulled the newly Python Kissed boy up by the arm.

Bryce was now sweating just as much as the beefier guy. "Dude, I'd sit on a literal dick if it would make this stop. Fuck it, I'd suck one if I had to."

"Same, bro," Marsh said. "But the snake's gone and, hey, you got to jerk off, haha."

Bryce undid the rope that tied the boat to the pier. "Yeah, I fucking needed that one, dude. Cleared my head a bit too much, though."

"Not feeling the high?"

"I... maybe. It's not exactly the `cozy blanket of weed' but I'm getting something."

Marsh jumped off the yacht to grab their backpack. But something was missing.

"Hey Ken, your top's gone. Must have slipped into the water."

Ken glanced back at the pier, looking like a muscle-worshipper's dream, with his back on display save for a tiny silver strip up his crack.

"Hehe," Bryce made. "Can't tell who looks faggier out of you bitches. Now hit the pedal, dude, I want out of here."

Ken ordered them to take pics of him displaying his yacht driving skills in a thong and the boys obliged to stay distracted from their unrelenting ass burns.

Once they turned into the White River and only had to worry about the occasional jetski, Bryce took the wheel, while Ken prepared.

Marsh took the opportunity to get some cool yacht pics of himself.

"Bruh, any ideas why the snake here is mad at us?"

"The fuck you mean?" Ken said. "We sank somebody's boat for fun."

"Haha right," Marsh said and flexed.

"That was an unattended nutshell," Bryce said. "That thing would have sank on its own and I'm not sure anyone even missed it. Maybe it's cause of all the beer I stole from my uncle out here."

Ken squinted at the shore. "If the snakes get mad at public urination," he pointed, "we pissed in the river in front of that cinema a dozen times. Or it's about all the towels we stole."

"Not stole," Marsh said. "We just, uh, didn't put them back exactly where the tourists expected. What about the time we dunked Toby?"

"That wasn't anywhere near here, dude. And the kid had to learn who's alpha."

Ken made a croaking noise. He was adorned with the tattoo winding around his physique. Hammering his balls and convulsing, he gasped, "Yeah, it's choking ha-... harder now. Gotta u-... use hotter stuff."

White River wasn't all that wide. Whatever they did was easily visible from at least one shore. No getting around that.

Ken pushed down his thong, exposing a snake-wrapped semi-hardon, bouncing. It had to be about five inches and was still growing. The boy gave his balls a drumming and convulsed.

Marsh grabbed the Kaizen HQ and opened Ken's Clapper.

"No," Ken shouted, the word half-dying in his throat. "I'm not showing m-... my dick or ho-... hole. Fuck that."

"Just pics," Marsh said. "Cover your junk if you want but you gotta post, bruh."

"Ju-... just pics."

"Bryce, make sure you reclap everything."

"Aye aye, captain. Hehe."

Each snapshot granted Ken half a breath as the snake flashed like a glitch, coiling on the un-photographed side of his body for a split second.

Ken put lube on a shaky finger and opened his hole, struggling to get the finger in. He sank onto the free hand, face reddening. Then purpling.

"Dude, he's gonna drop unconscious."

"I just posted the collection," Marsh said, panicked. "It's not enough." He stepped in front of Ken. "Listen bro, I'm gonna film from this angle. Stay on all fours and you won't show dick, okay?"

Ken gave a weak thumbs up. Marsh started filming and the snake slipped out of sight.

With grim determination, Ken put a rubber glove on his hand and squirted a thin line of Python's Kiss on his middle finger.

Marsh made sure not to film the crotch as Ken rose slightly to reach for his ass. He slid the finger in and held still.

His eyes widened in horror and he wheezed with an open mouth. He removed the finger, pulled the glove off and rammed his fist into the ground, holding still on all fours.

Marsh kept moving between body shots from above and face-close-ups. Ken's expression wavered between surprise and near crying, mouth-flopping like a fish on land.

Marsh ended the clip and posted it without caption. Ken's posts tended to be either minimalistic or long rambles so a pure video was in character. Most of the audience had probably seen the other boys' hot-hole posts anyway and needed no explanation.

Ken rolled over on his back, legs angled, feet on the ground. His dick was a pulsing, rock-hard seven incher with girth that at least matched Marsh's.

The tanky gymnast made sure he wasn't getting filmed anymore, grabbed his dick with both hands and humped up into his fists.

"Ugh ugh ugh..." He grit his teeth, dropped his hands to his sides with eyes closed and hammered the ground in anger. The snake was flickering onto his neck.

Ken glanced at his friends. "Fuck it, film me."

"Bruh, you su-"

"Film me! But make it fucking excellent."

Marsh aimed the phone and Ken started to desperately work his dick, jerking off with one hand, rubbing the cockhead with the other and lightly humping the air, which certainly had to make his ass burn worse.

Bryce had turned off the motor and was taking pics from all angles, while Marsh got a steady pan along Ken's now also sweat glistening body.

The Asian gym bunny cummed with a whimper and convulsed so hard he flopped on the ground. The cumshot splashed along his abs and turned into a spray at his chest, making it up to his chin. He was drenched in white droplets, shimmering in the sun.

Ken stared at nothing, panting hard. Then his eyes caught the camera and he chuckled and relaxed his whole body as if just realizing what was happening.

He buried his face in his hands, "Fuck, man."

Marsh posted the clip on Ken's page as: <What you've all been waiting for.> and reclapped it on his own device.

While Ken wiped himself down, he looked around. "Bring us closer to that shore. That's the spot. I'll get some whey ready."

The hunks on the Medusa were quickly clothed again, Marsh the masculine bodybuilder in his black compression shorts and sneakers, Ken the stout gymnast in the silver thong and sneakers, and Bryce the modelesque swimmer in his red speedo and sandals.

Bryce had his long red tank top around his hips, too sweaty to wear it.

They all glistened from the internal heat radiating from their `Python Kissed' assholes into their bodies.

Ken flexed his glutes with a broad stance on deck of the stolen motorboat. Close enough to the shore of White River that pedestrians could see the boys with ease, Ken swung some whey protein in an arc and watched it dissipate.

"Fuck off, snake bastard," he grunted.

The water's reflection on the quay moved with purpose, as if slithering along the wall. The coastline seemed to distort as if from heat shimmer. Then the illusion broke like it had never been there.

"There's hell in my ass," Bryce said and stepped from one leg to the other. "I can't..." He wiped his brow with his shirt. "I can't fucking take this, dude. I'm going nuts."

Ken drummed on his beefy thighs. "At least it's getting us a little high. Would be almost pleasant if it wasn't a fucking pain in the ass."

Marsh was walking in tiny circles. "Just gotta stick it out."

"Nah dude," Bryce said. "A Henderson always has a plan. I'm gonna cool off."

The swimmer dropped his shirt and stepped to the edge of the boat.

"Wait," Marsh shouted. "That makes it wor-"

Bryce jumped into White River, ass first. Ken appeared next to Marsh, filming with the swimmer's uPhone. "He's gonna regret that, haha."

Marsh couldn't help but chuckle, too, and gave Ken an elbow hit in the chest.

Bryce reappeared, bursting through the surface with terror in his face. "It's worse, it's worse, fuck fuck fuck!"

"A Henderson," Ken deadpanned, "always has a gay as fuck plan."

"Suck my dick," Bryce said and grabbed onto the yacht.

Ken put the phone away, then reached out with his foot and pushed Bryce's face down to keep him from entering the boat. "How about we drive off and leave you here, paddling like the little swim-club faggot you are."

Marsh sat down at the edge, feet and calves in the river to cool off, and pulled Bryce up.

"Oh yeah?" Bryce asked, climbing on deck. "How about this?!"

The taller guy tried to push the buffer one into the water but Ken remembered enough martial arts to dig his heels in. It was Marsh's turn to film the slippery wrestling match.

"Hey bro, whoever wins gets to eat my dick."

After half a minute of futile struggle, Marsh decided to help and gave the interlinked boys a push. They both went into the water.

"Fuuuuck," Ken yelled upon resurfacing. "It is worse. Fuck, my hole is killing me. I can't, man, I can't move, fuck, help me!"

Marsh posted the clip to his story highlights then grabbed one hunk with each hand and pulled them back on board. They dropped into a wet pile on the lounge.

"Where to next, bruh?"

Ken crawled toward his phone. "Let me see..."

Bryce smacked the buff Asian's ass hard as he slithered by.

"Fuck off," Ken said. He turned the motor back on.

"Or what? You're gonna spray your cum all over me?"

"You wish, faggot. At least I can spray, unlike your dicklet."

"Dude, you've been staring at my cock? You might be obsessed. Don't worry, I'll let you have a taste."

"Hey you assholes," Marsh said. "We gotta keep moving. Suck each other off later."

"Next up," Ken said and maneuvered the motor-yacht upriver, "is the Forest Serpent. There hasn't been a forest in this area for a cocksucking long time, man, but I hope the snake didn't give a fuck and stuck around."

"Bro, are we going to Little Hawai'i?" Marsh asked.

"Dude!" Bryce flopped on the lounge, legs restless from the ass-burn. "No guesses why we're getting punished there. We wrecked the place."

"Hey," Ken said, "we weren't the only ones. It was a great fucking party. I landed two chicks. Was a sloppy as fuck threesome in that kid's bedroom but it counts." He let go of the wheel and hit double back biceps.

Marsh chuckled. "One of those cheerleaders from out of state would have let me fuck her in the ass but her boyfriend showed up. Literally everyone was at that party and trashed the place. Poor kid must've gotten in serious fucking trouble."

Bryce sighed. "I was making out with the hottest chick in some bedroom full of boy group posters. Must have been the sister's room, or some faggot's."

"I remember that," Ken said. "We drew on all of those, then somebody tore them up and we kept drawing on the walls. Man, we're a bunch of assholes, hehe, but it was fun as fuck."

Bryce was rubbing his hole through the speedo, absentmindedly. "She fell asleep, so I jerked off on the pillow."

"Haha, weak beta," Marsh said.

Bryce shot up. "Dude, I couldn't have raped her if I'd wanted to. Somebody had already kicked in half the doors in that house, including the bedroom ones."

"Think that was me," Marsh said. "Did either of you see who trashed the- hggnl! Snake... f-fuck."

Marsh went all fours, quickly dizzying as he gasped for air. The blood rushed in his ears, his heartbeat pounding at the sudden choking as his dick chubbed.

He reached for the backpack and it slid out of his way through snake-magic. He reached for his selfie-stick and it shot off at the yacht wall. He grasped aimlessly at his phone and it flew of, too.

Bryce rammed his foot into Marsh's balls from behind. The bodybuilder gasped, inhaling sharply, and Bryce kept foot-smacking the nuts.

Marsh felt the stings of nut-pain that made him spasm and the slow rise of the dull aftermath that made him tremble. But Bryce kept hitting the thickening dick instead.

Marsh tore at his pants with more strength than sense and ripped them off to let his package hang freely. Ken was filming the kicking from behind, so the serpent retreated to the front of the crawling bodybuilder.

Marsh's dick bounced, now erect at its six inches, as he endured the regular nut-taps. His throat was still compressed. He rolled onto his back to force the snake into view of the camera.

His throat was finally freed but the pressure only shifted to the sides of his neck.

He spread his legs.

Ken put a sneaker onto Marsh's balls and pressed down.

The crushing was worse than any ball-pain before – and it worked.

"M-more," Marsh was able to say, his lower body burning with ball-pain waves that outdid the ass-burn. "Thanks bro, ke-... keep it like that. Fuck, I'm going crazy."

As soon as the filming stopped, the snake returned, tightly wound around his torso from neck to crotch.

Ken pressed down harder with a worried expression.

Marsh grit his teeth, sucked in air and pushed Ken's leg away to endure strangulation instead of crushing.

"We need a better solution, dude," Bryce said, now at the wheel. He opened the backpack. "We can't film the whole way there and we can't keep crushing our balls for hours." He shoved the backpack toward Ken. "Give him as much Python's Kiss as it fucking takes. Sorry, Marshmallow. I know I'll be next."

Ken put on a rubber glove and lubed two fingers. Marsh hammered his own balls but he could barely produce enough pain to breathe. Despite the heart-racing panic, he couldn't bring himself to crush his nuts that hard.

Ken shoved both lubed fingers in and scissored Marsh's hole open. "I'm gonna give it to you little by little, till it's enough. But I only got so much in this bottle, man. If this isn't enough I don't fucking know..."

Marsh nodded, barely able to move through the nut-ache contractions.

A finger full of Python's Kiss entered him. After a deceptive second of nothing, the sting of pure pain set in and rushed to new heights. Ken wiggled around inside him.

"It's... not enough," Marsh panted. "Deeper."

Ken went in to the knuckle. Heat and burn spread through Marsh's guts from a man's body part inside him – a sensation he'd never have imagined.

"Deeper, bro."

"I can't. That's all I've got." Ken looked around. "There's nothing here to push it in. Uh, the selfie-stick? Nah, that would cut you up inside. We can't make you bleed, man."

Marsh looked around, too. His eyes fell on the motorboat's tightly locked toolbox they didn't have the key for, then on the few loose objects they had available. The spice bottle itself? No, not with its sharp plastic edges.

As darkness creeped in from the corners of his vision and the terror of asphyxiation rose, the hunk refocused on his pulsing, achingly hard dick. Then on Ken's buff body between his legs. Finally at Ken's crotch where a semi-hardon was barely held in place by the thong's hem.

Marsh gestured at his balls.

Ken pulled out the finger and slipped out of the glove as he stepped brutally on the bodybuilder's nuts.

"Your dick!" Marsh said as fast as he could. "Shove the hot sauce in with your fucking dick."

"Man," Ken said. "I..."

"No time," Marsh said, voice cracking. His throat was already closing even though the crushing pain hadn't reached its peak yet. "You're not a fag for helping a bro out. Just fuck me alrea- hgglgn." He reached forward and slapped his glutes to drive the point home.

Bryce was livestreaming, giving Marsh enough breath to let Ken prepare for a moment.

Ken pulled a condom from the backpack and slipped it on. "You sure?" the buff guy asked while rolling the condom down his shaft with one hand.

With only a nod, Marsh grabbed his knees to keep his legs spread as far as they'd go. His flexibility was pretty good.

Easily visible from both river shores, Ken knelt down at the taller hunk's ass and drizzled Python's Kiss along the rubber-clad length. With no more time to prepare, he took pics of himself lining up with Marsh's hole.

"No homo, man."

Both muscle boys swallowed hard as their eyes met, then Ken pushed in.

Marsh was thought he'd be prepared for the pain suddenly appearing much deeper inside him, but the rubbing of Ken's notable girth along his insides added a dimension he could never have expected.

"Fuuuuuck," Marsh groaned, breathing easy. He felt lightheaded and floaty but the ass-burn grounded him.

The gymnast held onto the even beefier guy's left calf, taking pics with his free hand. Bryce moved back and forth to film while keeping the boat on track at slow speed.

The top slowly – you might even say sensually – moved his hips to slide all the way in and nearly out again. He bit his lower lip and drove a hand through his fringe.

Even through the pain of ultra-hot-sauce and the humiliation of assfucking, Marsh thought that his friend was pretty good at leaning into the act.

"Uh uh uh yeah," Marsh moaned, driven insane by the sheer intensity of the Python's Kiss Fuck. "Keep it up... no homo... uh uh..."

Marsh did the only thing he could to ease his condition. He jerked off. It didn't exactly feel good, it was simply raw, animalistic need. Once he had touched his rock-hard dick, there was no stopping. He had to cum, despite the pain-fuck, or maybe because of it, to stay sane. He wasn't some faggot, who thought with its ass – he was a real alpha who only thought with his dick.

Somewhere, somehow, the sensation turned bizarrely pleasure-able, flipping its nature with all its sheer intensity from bad' to amazing' and back, repeatedly.

Marsh's teary eyes dashed around. The sky was too bright to stare at but every time his gaze landed on Ken he was hit by the reality of being an anal sex bottom in public.

He looked to the side, face grimacing from the intensity that fluctuated between torture and the weirdest pleasure ever. A jetski noise died down next to the Medusa, its driver staring unabashedly, openmouthed.

Ken flipped the gawker off and Marsh followed suit even though his arm was barely under his control with his gut contractions shooting spasms into his torso.

The jetski driver resumed his ride and the muscle boys' eyes met, Ken smirking.

"Dude, I think the snake's gone," Bryce said, no longer filming. "You've been getting railed for like three minutes."

Ken held still and their eyes met again.

The shorter gym bunny pulled out, leaving Marsh frozen with his dick in a deathgrip, feeling the icy coldness of an empty ass, pulsing with hot sauce.

Ken stretched. "Fuck, that was good. I could almost turn into a faggot. Your ass is fire, man, hehehe."

They laughed dumbly while Ken took the wheel off Bryce to park at a pier.

"Shit, I got rid of my pants," Marsh said, erection waving as he rose. "Bruh, I didn't even keep the shreds. They're overboard. Fuck."

"I packed a spare," Ken said, turning off the motor.

Marsh stepped over to the backpack with legs apart, waddling enough to make his friends laugh again.

He rummaged in the bag and found the only item Ken could have meant. Just raising his leg to step into the thing was tricky with the unprecedented ass-burn dominating his every movement.

Marsh had never worn a thong before – and certainly not a gold sparkling one. This was even less fabric than he wore on stage for competitions.

"Guess that's my fag-transformation complete, bruh, haha."

The boy in the silver thong threw a middle finger at him. "Says the anal sex bottom. Thongs are alpha as a brotherfucker, young padawan."

Marsh shot a middle finger back. His dick was still two thirds hard and couldn't really fit into the thong, poking out along the hem, but so was Ken's. Neither had cummed.

"Uhrlng," Bryce made. He had just tied the yacht to the pier and was now ringed by the serpent, wound around him like an artful tattoo.

"Oh fuck. Do we go back on the river?" Marsh said and looked along the pier.

He rammed his knee between Bryce's spread legs, making the boy flinch and bend over, but huff merciful air.

"We can't fuck his ass in plain sight, right man?"

Happy about this development? Things are going to stay spicy... but get worse.