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"Back off," Toro commanded.
Ollie looked over at him. Toro was standing back, viewing the scene as if he were a direction, neutral and uninvolved.
But his cock was straining his pants. So much for an uninvolved director.
"Save it for his face," Toro said. "Let his daddy see."
As the man pulled his cock free, another took his place, eager for his turn to use Ollie's mouth. The room was filled with the sounds of moans and filthy praise as Ollie continued to service each of the masked men.
"Stroke their cocks while you suck them off," Toro ordered, his voice laced with lust. "Show them how good of a slut you can be."
Ollie complied, reaching up to grasp the hips of the man currently fucking his throat, his other hand wrapping around the thick cock of the next man in line. He jerked them both off, his own arousal at an all-time high as he reveled in the power he held over these men.
"Fuck, you're doing such a good job, baby," one of the men praised, his voice breathless with pleasure. "You were born for this, weren't you? Born to be our little come dumpster."
The degradation should have hurt, but instead, it only fueled Ollie's desire further. He knew that this was what he had always craved deep down: complete submission, the chance to serve and be used by powerful, dominant men like Toro and his crew. And now, surrounded by their hard cocks as they took turns using his mouth, he felt more alive than ever before.
"Fuck, I can't hold back any longer," the man in front of Ollie groaned, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he approached orgasm. "Gonna paint your pretty face with my come, you filthy little whore."
"Me too," another one chimed in, his voice strained with pleasure. "You deserve every last drop, don't you?"
Ollie moaned around the cock in his mouth, unable to speak but fully agreeing with their words. He wanted to be covered in their seed, to wear the proof of his submission on his body like a badge of honor.
He wanted to be wanted.
He sucked harder.
"Give it to him," Toro commanded.
One by one, they did. The first man came with a guttural moan, his hot spunk splattering across Ollie's cheeks and forehead. The others followed suit, each adding their contribution to the rapidly growing mess that was his face and chest. The feeling of their warm come dripping down his skin only served to heighten Ollie's arousal, but something was still missing.
He craved Toro. More specifically, he craved Toro's cock inside him, filling him completely in a way only the dominant mafia thug could.
"Looks like our little slut here is still hungry for more," Toro observed, his eyes flicking between Ollie's come-drenched form and the camera he held.
"Definitely," one of the masked men agreed, breathless from his recent orgasm. "Never seen someone take so much cock and still want more. He's a fucking natural."
"See? Reviews are in." Toro filmed Ollie's come-covered face for a lingering moment, before flicking the camera view around. "You know the drill, Petrov. Tick tock."
And just like that, they were done. Toro nodded to his men, and with chuckles, they left the room.
Leaving Toro and Ollie alone.
"Toro," Ollie breathed. "Please…"
"That wasn't enough for you? You really are insatiable."
Ollie locked eyes with him. "I need you."
He saw the effect of his words, the way that Toro had to fight back whatever restraint he was trying to hold on to…
And he lost.
"Alright then," Toro said decisively, before slowly unzipping his pants. The anticipation built as he revealed his impressive length, and Ollie couldn't help but whimper at the sight of it.
"Get on your hands and knees, slut," Toro commanded, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't remember your own name."
Ollie immediately complied, positioning himself on the filthy mattress with his ass in the air, eager to be taken by the man he had grown so attached to during his captivity. He felt Toro's strong hands grip his hips, the cold splash of lube, and then Toro was aligning himself before pushing inside without warning.
