The room was dim, lit only by a single, buzzing strip light that cast long shadows across the cold concrete. Elena lay on her back, her breath hitching in her chest as she tested the restraints around her wrists. The metal cuffs bit into her skin, anchoring her to the wall, leaving her completely helpless, her naked body exposed from the waist down. At twenty-five, she was in the prime of her life—athletic and toned—but as she stared up at the ceiling, a wave of vulnerability washed over her.
Her long, brown wavy hair fanned out around her head like a dark halo, and her brown eyes were wide, trying to peek through the glory hole toward the shadows of the three men standing at the foot of the bench. They were silent, watching her, their eyes trailing over the naked curve of her exposed hips and thighs.
The first man stepped forward. He was skinny, almost gaunt, with a sharp intensity in his gaze. He didn’t speak; he simply reached out. Elena gasped as his fingers, slick with saliva, brushed against her folds. The cold touch made her flinch, a sharp whimper escaping her throat before she could stop it.
"Shh," he murmured, his voice low.
He gripped her left thigh, lifting her leg to open her up further, holding her steady against the surface. Elena’s heart hammered against her ribs. Her experience was purely theoretical—a collection of lonely nights with her fingers, vibrators, and silicone dildos. This was real. This was raw.
He positioned himself at her entrance, teasing her for a moment before pushing inside. He started slow, testing her tightness, his movements methodical. Elena squeezed her eyes shut, her lips parting as she adjusted to the intrusion. But the slow rhythm didn't last long.
A minute later, his pace shifted. He began to pound her, his thrusts precise and steady. It was overwhelming, a sensation far more intense than anything she had ever managed to coax from her toys. Soft, involuntary moans slipped past her lips, filling the small room. The sound seemed to spur him on. His breath hitched, syncing with hers, creating a rhythm that drowned out her racing thoughts.
He reached down, his fingers seeking out her clit.
Elena flinched at the sudden pressure on the sensitive bundle of nerves, her back arching off the cold surface. He didn't stop; he held her steady with his other hand while his thumb worked her clit in tight circles, matching the relentless speed of his hips.
"God," she gasped, the sound louder than she intended.
It was shocking. Her body was reacting violently, heat pooling in her stomach and spreading outward. She had never felt anything like this—this loss of control, this sheer intensity.
He could feel it too. The way her walls fluttered around him, the tightening of her muscles. He was close, his jaw clenched in concentration, but he was determined to push her there first. He abandoned her clit, focusing all his energy on his thrusts, driving into her with a desperate, fast pace.
It was too much. The tension snapped.
Elena cried out, her entire body trembling as a shattering orgasm ripped through her. It was blinding, washing away her thoughts and leaving nothing but pure sensation. Her pussy clenched tight around him, milking him, the sudden grip pushing him over the edge.
With a guttural moan, he slammed into her one last time, his body going rigid as he emptied himself inside her. He filled her with his release, the heat stark against the cold air of the room.
Elena continued to shake, the aftershocks rippling through her muscles. The spasming of her inner walls squeezed him relentlessly, drawing out every last drop of his pleasure until he was spent.
As the last waves of her orgasm faded, her legs went limp, falling heavily against the concrete. He pulled out of her with a lazy, fluid motion. The loss of pressure made Elena gasp softly. Her body gave one final clench, expelling the fluid, which dripped down onto the cold floor below.
The man stepped back, tucking himself away, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Fuck, that was hot," he muttered, turning and walking away.
Elena lay panting, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her first orgasm, but there was no time to recover. Heavy footsteps echoed in the small space, firmer and more decisive than the last. She couldn't see much through the haze, but his silhouette loomed larger. This man was tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular.
He didn't hesitate. His strong hands clamped around her thighs, lifting her legs effortlessly, displaying an eagerness that made her heart race. There was no preamble, no teasing fingers or spit to ease the way. She was already slick from the first man, her body open and vulnerable.
He positioned himself at her entrance and drove forward in one swift, brutal movement.
Elena cried out, her back arching off the hard surface as his girth stretched her to the absolute limit. It was a shock to her system. He was huge, thick enough that she felt every inch forcing her walls apart. He seemed to grow impossibly harder inside her with every heartbeat.
"Relax," he instructed, his voice a deep rumble as he began to move without mercy. He didn't bother with a slow rhythm; he shoved his cock in deep, hard thrusts that jarred her entire frame. "You won't enjoy it if you keep fighting back."
"Please," she gasped, tears pricking the corners of her eyes as she instinctively tried to squirm away. "You're too big."
"And you're too tight," he chuckled darkly. He slowed down slightly, allowing her a fraction of a second to adjust to his thickness. "I'm gonna be a gentleman and let you have it your way, but it's gonna cost you."
He released her left thigh, his hand roaming up her torso to her chest. He grabbed one nipple between his calloused fingers, pulling roughly before twisting it. Elena whined, a sharp bolt of pain shooting through her. Her hand flew up instinctively to slap him away, but the cuffs held fast, digging painfully into her delicate skin.
The man laughed at her futile struggle. "Small price to pay," he muttered, resuming a slow, steady pace that dragged against every sensitive nerve ending.
Elena looked down at her chest, her nipple red and swollen from his grip. Another tear escaped, trailing down her temple. She was adjusting to his size, but he still filled her completely, stretching her until she felt she might split open.
"Fuck, you're tight," he groaned, his free hand moving to her other breast. This time, he cupped it with a possessiveness that wasn't gentle but wasn't cruel either, his thumb brushing over the peaked bud. "Small pussy, small nipples."
She let out a whimper, this one born more of fear than pain, but to her surprise, his touch shifted. He became almost gentle, his palm massaging her soft flesh as he picked up the pace. His hand slid down her stomach, finding her clit again.
A traitorous moan escaped her lips, her body shuddering under the dual stimulation of his cock and his fingers.
"Good girl," he cackled, picking up speed as he felt her respond. He worked her with a relentless precision, and for a moment, Elena felt that familiar coil of tension rising in her core. It was a spark of pleasure amidst the overwhelming fullness.
But it vanished just as quickly as it appeared. The sensation was too intense, bordering on too much, and her body couldn't quite catch the rhythm. He noticed the falter in her response and didn't care. He slammed into her harder, his balls slapping loudly against the inside of her thighs.
She moaned and whimpered beneath him, but it was a sound of distress now, not enjoyment. The sheer force of him was battering her senses. It was enough to push him over the edge, though. With a guttural grunt, he buried himself deep, his hips jerking as he shot a huge load of cum inside her.
The heat of it was intense, flooding her so suddenly that for a terrifying second, Elena thought she might throw up. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the nausea down as he emptied himself.
When he finally pulled out, the relief was instantaneous. Her pussy felt swollen and tender, gaping from the size of him. She heard the wet, heavy sound of his cum hitting the floor and squeezed her eyes shut, mortified. She wondered how loose she must be for it to escape her so quickly, her body thoroughly used.
"She's all yours," the second man barked, stepping back and leaving her trembling on the bench. "Maybe you can make her come again."
His words were a cruel reminder. This wasn't even close to being over.
As the third man stepped into the light, Elena tilted her head, desperate for any distraction from the throbbing between her legs. She caught a glimpse of him as he stroked himself, and her eyes widened. He was big, but what made her breath catch was the metal glinting at the tip—a piercing.
*Fuck,* she thought, the word echoing in her mind. She braced herself, pulling against the cuffs as her muscles tensed in anticipation.
He didn't rush. He rubbed his shaft in his hand, ensuring he was rock hard, before dragging the head against her swollen clit. The sensation was sharp, unexpected, and pulled a whimper of surprise from her lips.
He let out a low, soft chuckle and positioned himself at her entrance, placing his hands on her thighs. His grip was firm, grounding her, but strangely gentle. She noticed the intricate ink covering his arms; the tattoos felt weirdly abrasive whenever they brushed against her soft skin, adding a new texture to the encounter.
"Don't worry, I'll be gentle," he assured her. His tone was soothing, devoid of the irony or mockery she had heard from the second man.
He pushed inside her slowly, inch by inch, as if he were navigating fragile glass. He was thick, certainly, but not devastatingly so like the previous brute. The difference allowed her lungs to expand, to exhale a breath she didn't know she was holding.
Then, she remembered the piercing.
He began to move with a lazy, deliberate rhythm, almost as if he were reading her mind. "It's not gonna hurt, I promise."
He slid through her slick folds, and to her shock, he was right. The metal ball was warm from his skin, rolling against her inner walls rather than catching on them. She could barely feel the ring, just a strange, tantalizing pressure that made her hyper-aware of every movement.
She felt her shoulders drop, the tension leaving her body as he maintained the same steady pace. For the first time that night, she felt a measure of ease.
After a few deep thrusts, he changed his angle, slowly pulling out until just the tip remained. The jewelry caught on her G-spot on the exit, dragging against it in a way that made her vision white out for a split second.
Her breath hitched, and a soft, genuine moan escaped her. "You like that?"
The question hung in the air. Elena bit her lip, humiliation warring with the undeniable heat rising in her belly. After a moment of silence, she whispered, "Yes."
Her cheeks burned as the admission left her mouth. He let out another soft chuckle, not mocking, but pleased. "Okay then."
He repeated the motion, torturously slow. He would sink his full length deep inside her, pausing to let her feel the stretch, then drag it back out, letting the piercing tease that sensitive spot again and again.
Elena felt the coil tightening in her core, low and heavy. "Please," she breathed, not sure if she was asking him to stop or keep going.
He answered by picking up the pace. He stopped withdrawing completely and began fucking her with a moderate, rhythmic intensity that hit that perfect spot over and over. Her hands gripped the chain above her head, bracing herself as the pleasure mounted. His hands moved up, gently cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.
The rhythm quickened, the wet sounds of their bodies filling the room. Moans tumbled from both of them now, a shared duet of rising tension. He came first, his body stiffening as he pulsed inside her, the heat of his release flooding her channel.
As he softened, he pulled out slowly, the metal of the piercing catching her rim one last time. It was the final trigger she needed.
Her thighs clenched tight, her belly contracting violently as the orgasm tore through her. Her muscles spasmed, pushing out the load of mixed semen from the three men. The sight alone was lewd, but as she came down, he gave her clit one last, barely-there graze with his thumb.
It was enough to send a sharp jolt of bliss through her exhausted frame, leaving her gasping.
"See? It wasn't that bad," he said quietly.
Elena didn't answer. She didn't have the strength. He knew he was right. Her swollen, well-used pussy and the way her body had surrendered to the aftershocks said it all. Her brain was foggy, drifting in a haze of endorphins, when she heard the distinct sound of the heavy front door opening and then slamming shut.
Silence returned to the room.
And then, it hit her.
She lay there, naked and cuffed, staring up at the dark ceiling. She was no longer a virgin. She had just had sex with three men in the same night, and she would never know who they were.
A strange shiver went through her. One day, she might bump into them on the street—pass a tall man, a skinny one, or catch a glimpse of tattooed arms—and she would have no idea that she was looking at the men who had turned her into a woman.
Or maybe she would. Maybe she'd recognize those tattoos on the last man. Or maybe, if she was lucky—or unlucky—enough, hook up with someone in the future and recognize him instantly from the memory of her first fuck.
Her long, brown wavy hair fanned out around her head like a dark halo, and her brown eyes were wide, trying to peek through the glory hole toward the shadows of the three men standing at the foot of the bench. They were silent, watching her, their eyes trailing over the naked curve of her exposed hips and thighs.
The first man stepped forward. He was skinny, almost gaunt, with a sharp intensity in his gaze. He didn’t speak; he simply reached out. Elena gasped as his fingers, slick with saliva, brushed against her folds. The cold touch made her flinch, a sharp whimper escaping her throat before she could stop it.
"Shh," he murmured, his voice low.
He gripped her left thigh, lifting her leg to open her up further, holding her steady against the surface. Elena’s heart hammered against her ribs. Her experience was purely theoretical—a collection of lonely nights with her fingers, vibrators, and silicone dildos. This was real. This was raw.
He positioned himself at her entrance, teasing her for a moment before pushing inside. He started slow, testing her tightness, his movements methodical. Elena squeezed her eyes shut, her lips parting as she adjusted to the intrusion. But the slow rhythm didn't last long.
A minute later, his pace shifted. He began to pound her, his thrusts precise and steady. It was overwhelming, a sensation far more intense than anything she had ever managed to coax from her toys. Soft, involuntary moans slipped past her lips, filling the small room. The sound seemed to spur him on. His breath hitched, syncing with hers, creating a rhythm that drowned out her racing thoughts.
He reached down, his fingers seeking out her clit.
Elena flinched at the sudden pressure on the sensitive bundle of nerves, her back arching off the cold surface. He didn't stop; he held her steady with his other hand while his thumb worked her clit in tight circles, matching the relentless speed of his hips.
"God," she gasped, the sound louder than she intended.
It was shocking. Her body was reacting violently, heat pooling in her stomach and spreading outward. She had never felt anything like this—this loss of control, this sheer intensity.
He could feel it too. The way her walls fluttered around him, the tightening of her muscles. He was close, his jaw clenched in concentration, but he was determined to push her there first. He abandoned her clit, focusing all his energy on his thrusts, driving into her with a desperate, fast pace.
It was too much. The tension snapped.
Elena cried out, her entire body trembling as a shattering orgasm ripped through her. It was blinding, washing away her thoughts and leaving nothing but pure sensation. Her pussy clenched tight around him, milking him, the sudden grip pushing him over the edge.
With a guttural moan, he slammed into her one last time, his body going rigid as he emptied himself inside her. He filled her with his release, the heat stark against the cold air of the room.
Elena continued to shake, the aftershocks rippling through her muscles. The spasming of her inner walls squeezed him relentlessly, drawing out every last drop of his pleasure until he was spent.
As the last waves of her orgasm faded, her legs went limp, falling heavily against the concrete. He pulled out of her with a lazy, fluid motion. The loss of pressure made Elena gasp softly. Her body gave one final clench, expelling the fluid, which dripped down onto the cold floor below.
The man stepped back, tucking himself away, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Fuck, that was hot," he muttered, turning and walking away.
Elena lay panting, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her first orgasm, but there was no time to recover. Heavy footsteps echoed in the small space, firmer and more decisive than the last. She couldn't see much through the haze, but his silhouette loomed larger. This man was tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular.
He didn't hesitate. His strong hands clamped around her thighs, lifting her legs effortlessly, displaying an eagerness that made her heart race. There was no preamble, no teasing fingers or spit to ease the way. She was already slick from the first man, her body open and vulnerable.
He positioned himself at her entrance and drove forward in one swift, brutal movement.
Elena cried out, her back arching off the hard surface as his girth stretched her to the absolute limit. It was a shock to her system. He was huge, thick enough that she felt every inch forcing her walls apart. He seemed to grow impossibly harder inside her with every heartbeat.
"Relax," he instructed, his voice a deep rumble as he began to move without mercy. He didn't bother with a slow rhythm; he shoved his cock in deep, hard thrusts that jarred her entire frame. "You won't enjoy it if you keep fighting back."
"Please," she gasped, tears pricking the corners of her eyes as she instinctively tried to squirm away. "You're too big."
"And you're too tight," he chuckled darkly. He slowed down slightly, allowing her a fraction of a second to adjust to his thickness. "I'm gonna be a gentleman and let you have it your way, but it's gonna cost you."
He released her left thigh, his hand roaming up her torso to her chest. He grabbed one nipple between his calloused fingers, pulling roughly before twisting it. Elena whined, a sharp bolt of pain shooting through her. Her hand flew up instinctively to slap him away, but the cuffs held fast, digging painfully into her delicate skin.
The man laughed at her futile struggle. "Small price to pay," he muttered, resuming a slow, steady pace that dragged against every sensitive nerve ending.
Elena looked down at her chest, her nipple red and swollen from his grip. Another tear escaped, trailing down her temple. She was adjusting to his size, but he still filled her completely, stretching her until she felt she might split open.
"Fuck, you're tight," he groaned, his free hand moving to her other breast. This time, he cupped it with a possessiveness that wasn't gentle but wasn't cruel either, his thumb brushing over the peaked bud. "Small pussy, small nipples."
She let out a whimper, this one born more of fear than pain, but to her surprise, his touch shifted. He became almost gentle, his palm massaging her soft flesh as he picked up the pace. His hand slid down her stomach, finding her clit again.
A traitorous moan escaped her lips, her body shuddering under the dual stimulation of his cock and his fingers.
"Good girl," he cackled, picking up speed as he felt her respond. He worked her with a relentless precision, and for a moment, Elena felt that familiar coil of tension rising in her core. It was a spark of pleasure amidst the overwhelming fullness.
But it vanished just as quickly as it appeared. The sensation was too intense, bordering on too much, and her body couldn't quite catch the rhythm. He noticed the falter in her response and didn't care. He slammed into her harder, his balls slapping loudly against the inside of her thighs.
She moaned and whimpered beneath him, but it was a sound of distress now, not enjoyment. The sheer force of him was battering her senses. It was enough to push him over the edge, though. With a guttural grunt, he buried himself deep, his hips jerking as he shot a huge load of cum inside her.
The heat of it was intense, flooding her so suddenly that for a terrifying second, Elena thought she might throw up. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the nausea down as he emptied himself.
When he finally pulled out, the relief was instantaneous. Her pussy felt swollen and tender, gaping from the size of him. She heard the wet, heavy sound of his cum hitting the floor and squeezed her eyes shut, mortified. She wondered how loose she must be for it to escape her so quickly, her body thoroughly used.
"She's all yours," the second man barked, stepping back and leaving her trembling on the bench. "Maybe you can make her come again."
His words were a cruel reminder. This wasn't even close to being over.
As the third man stepped into the light, Elena tilted her head, desperate for any distraction from the throbbing between her legs. She caught a glimpse of him as he stroked himself, and her eyes widened. He was big, but what made her breath catch was the metal glinting at the tip—a piercing.
*Fuck,* she thought, the word echoing in her mind. She braced herself, pulling against the cuffs as her muscles tensed in anticipation.
He didn't rush. He rubbed his shaft in his hand, ensuring he was rock hard, before dragging the head against her swollen clit. The sensation was sharp, unexpected, and pulled a whimper of surprise from her lips.
He let out a low, soft chuckle and positioned himself at her entrance, placing his hands on her thighs. His grip was firm, grounding her, but strangely gentle. She noticed the intricate ink covering his arms; the tattoos felt weirdly abrasive whenever they brushed against her soft skin, adding a new texture to the encounter.
"Don't worry, I'll be gentle," he assured her. His tone was soothing, devoid of the irony or mockery she had heard from the second man.
He pushed inside her slowly, inch by inch, as if he were navigating fragile glass. He was thick, certainly, but not devastatingly so like the previous brute. The difference allowed her lungs to expand, to exhale a breath she didn't know she was holding.
Then, she remembered the piercing.
He began to move with a lazy, deliberate rhythm, almost as if he were reading her mind. "It's not gonna hurt, I promise."
He slid through her slick folds, and to her shock, he was right. The metal ball was warm from his skin, rolling against her inner walls rather than catching on them. She could barely feel the ring, just a strange, tantalizing pressure that made her hyper-aware of every movement.
She felt her shoulders drop, the tension leaving her body as he maintained the same steady pace. For the first time that night, she felt a measure of ease.
After a few deep thrusts, he changed his angle, slowly pulling out until just the tip remained. The jewelry caught on her G-spot on the exit, dragging against it in a way that made her vision white out for a split second.
Her breath hitched, and a soft, genuine moan escaped her. "You like that?"
The question hung in the air. Elena bit her lip, humiliation warring with the undeniable heat rising in her belly. After a moment of silence, she whispered, "Yes."
Her cheeks burned as the admission left her mouth. He let out another soft chuckle, not mocking, but pleased. "Okay then."
He repeated the motion, torturously slow. He would sink his full length deep inside her, pausing to let her feel the stretch, then drag it back out, letting the piercing tease that sensitive spot again and again.
Elena felt the coil tightening in her core, low and heavy. "Please," she breathed, not sure if she was asking him to stop or keep going.
He answered by picking up the pace. He stopped withdrawing completely and began fucking her with a moderate, rhythmic intensity that hit that perfect spot over and over. Her hands gripped the chain above her head, bracing herself as the pleasure mounted. His hands moved up, gently cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.
The rhythm quickened, the wet sounds of their bodies filling the room. Moans tumbled from both of them now, a shared duet of rising tension. He came first, his body stiffening as he pulsed inside her, the heat of his release flooding her channel.
As he softened, he pulled out slowly, the metal of the piercing catching her rim one last time. It was the final trigger she needed.
Her thighs clenched tight, her belly contracting violently as the orgasm tore through her. Her muscles spasmed, pushing out the load of mixed semen from the three men. The sight alone was lewd, but as she came down, he gave her clit one last, barely-there graze with his thumb.
It was enough to send a sharp jolt of bliss through her exhausted frame, leaving her gasping.
"See? It wasn't that bad," he said quietly.
Elena didn't answer. She didn't have the strength. He knew he was right. Her swollen, well-used pussy and the way her body had surrendered to the aftershocks said it all. Her brain was foggy, drifting in a haze of endorphins, when she heard the distinct sound of the heavy front door opening and then slamming shut.
Silence returned to the room.
And then, it hit her.
She lay there, naked and cuffed, staring up at the dark ceiling. She was no longer a virgin. She had just had sex with three men in the same night, and she would never know who they were.
A strange shiver went through her. One day, she might bump into them on the street—pass a tall man, a skinny one, or catch a glimpse of tattooed arms—and she would have no idea that she was looking at the men who had turned her into a woman.
Or maybe she would. Maybe she'd recognize those tattoos on the last man. Or maybe, if she was lucky—or unlucky—enough, hook up with someone in the future and recognize him instantly from the memory of her first fuck.
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