Kota woke up naked, tied to a chair in a dark room illuminated only by a single very dim overhead light that cast long, sickly shadows across the concrete floor and bare walls.
The air was cool and slightly damp, carrying the faint metallic tang of old pipes and the sharper, cleaner scent of whatever industrial cleaner had been used recently on the floor.
Thick tape wrapped around his mouth, sealing his lips shut and making every attempt to breathe feel labored and restricted. His wrists were bound tightly behind the chair with what felt like zip ties or strong rope, the plastic digging into his skin just enough to remind him he wasn't dreaming. His ankles were secured to the legs of the chair, forcing his legs apart in a vulnerable spread that left his heavy, newly thickened cock and balls completely exposed, resting against the cool seat beneath him. Panic flared hot and sharp in his chest as the memories rushed back, the elevator, the two masked figures in all black, the sack yanked over his head, the world fading to black. His heart hammered against his ribs, the sound loud in his own ears as he tried to twist against the restraints, the chair creaking but refusing to budge.
He looked around frantically, eyes darting into the deeper shadows at the edges of the room where the dim light barely reached.
The space felt like a basement or an abandoned storage unit, bare walls, a single metal door in the far corner, no windows, no furniture except the chair he was bound to and a small table against one wall holding what looked like a bottle of water and some folded cloth.
His mind raced with worst-case scenarios.
Was this a group of sex traffickers who had somehow found out about his dick size and wanted to traffic him?
The thought sent ice down his spine.
In this world of only men, where bodies had changed and desires had warped into something constant and desperate, it wasn't impossible.
He had heard whispers, stories of rare tops being taken, kept, used until they broke. His cock, now thicker and heavier even when soft, rested heavily against his thigh, a constant reminder of how much trouble that change had already brought him.
Kota tried to scream, the sound rising in his throat only to be smothered completely by the tape. "Mmmph—mmphhhh!"
The muffled scream came out as a desperate, vibrating hum against the sticky seal, barely loud enough to echo in the small room.
He thrashed harder, the chair rocking slightly on its legs, but the bindings held firm, the tape pulling painfully at the corners of his mouth with every attempt. His breathing grew faster, panicked, the dim light overhead flickering once as if mocking his helplessness.
Then he heard it, soft whispering coming from the other room, the low murmur of voices drifting through the thin metal door, too quiet to make out the words but unmistakable in tone. One voice sounded excited, almost giddy; the other calmer, more measured.
Kota's heart rate spiked again, sweat breaking out across his bare chest and back as the whispers grew closer. The door creaked open slowly, the hinges groaning in the silence, and two femboys stepped into the room.
They were wearing black masks that covered the upper half of their faces, but their bodies gave them away immediately, pale skin glowing under the dim light, wide hips flaring dramatically into massive, shelf-like asses that strained against the tight black pants they wore, the fabric stretched thin over the plump, jiggling curves.
Their torsos were smooth and slender, the kind of lithe, hourglass builds that had become the new standard after the Vanishing, but the sheer size of their lower bodies made Kota's stomach drop. Were these sex traffickers?
Had they somehow learned about his cock and decided to take him for themselves? The thought made his skin crawl even as a traitorous twitch stirred between his legs, the constant, unnatural need in his balls already starting to build again despite everything.
One of the masked femboys stepped closer, breathing heavily, the sound ragged and familiar in a way that made Kota's panic shift into confused recognition. The breathing was quick, almost panting, the kind of excited, hungry huff he had heard before. The femboy reached up with trembling hands and slowly pulled the mask off, revealing a flushed, pretty face with sharp eyes and a beauty mark just above the lips.
Revealing Kin.
The same Kin from the ritual night, his face flushed, eyes wide and practically drooling as they washed over Kota's naked, bound body. Kin's gaze lingered hungrily on Kota's abs, tracing the defined lines with obvious lust before dropping lower to the heavy cock resting against his thigh. He bit his lower lip hard, a soft, needy whimper escaping him.
"Fuck… yesss," Kin whispered, voice thick with raw desire as he started undressing right there, peeling off his clothes with shaky, eager hands until he stood completely naked, his own massive ass and flared hips on full display, cocklet already hard and leaking.
Kin moved forward without another word, straddling Kota's lap in one fluid motion, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he pressed their bodies together. His big, soft ass settled heavily on Kota's thighs, the heat of his hole brushing teasingly against the thick shaft trapped between them. Kin started rambling immediately, words tumbling out in a breathless, excited stream while he ground slowly on Kota's lap, the friction making Kota's cock twitch and thicken despite the situation.
"Last time, the reason I didn't escape the matrix after we fucked was because we never got you to have enough pressure," Kin panted, hips rolling in deliberate circles, his plump cheeks spreading and rubbing against Kota's growing hardness.
"The big government doesn't want us to fuck too much because we might break the matrix, you know? They keep us weak with small dicks and suppressed libidos so we stay trapped in the simulation. But your, your cock is the key. It's because you're waking up. We have to keep going, keep pushing the limits until the code glitches and we break free. I've been waiting for this moment, Kota. You're the one who can finally overload the system. Just let me ride you, let me take every drop until the walls start cracking—"
He kept rambling, the words blending into a frantic, conspiracy-laced monologue about the matrix, hidden frequencies, and how Kota's unnaturally large cock was proof they were close to escaping the simulation.
All the while, Kin ground harder, his big, soft ass rubbing and sliding along the thickening length, the friction building steadily as Kin's own cocklet leaked against Kota's abs. Kin's arms stayed wrapped tight around Kota's shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle there as he rocked faster, moaning softly between sentences, completely lost in his own delusional lust while the tape over Kota's mouth kept every protest muffled and useless.
Kota's mind reeled, the absurdity of the situation clashing with the very real heat building between his legs, Kin's plump body moving with desperate, hungry need as he continued to ramble about breaking the matrix one orgasm at a time.
The dim overhead light flickered once, casting Kin's flushed, excited face in shifting shadows while the femboy kept grinding, kept talking, kept pressing his soft, warm ass down against Kota's rapidly hardening cock like the fate of their simulated reality depended on it.