CONTAINS M/M SEX, FLATTENING, AND TF

Tim and Jim leaned on the bar and enjoyed their drinks. The pair were a fixture at this particular club. Everyone who came in more than once or twice knew them. They were difficult to forget. The pair were high rollers, always throwing around massive tips, but even without their wealth they would have stood out. They were, to put it bluntly, a couple of beefcakes. They had the thick, muscular builds of weight lifters, and they made sure to show off those hard earned figures with snug muscle-shirts and tight shorts. Something about the confidence of their gaze and the cockiness of their smiles made it clear that they were tops. Real Type A, Alpha personalities. One could imagine such a thing being a problem. They were a couple, and there really wasn’t room in a relationship for two alphas… unless the relationship wasn’t limited to two.

That’s why Tim and Jim spent so much time at the club. They were always looking for a third. Someone to occupy that precious lower run on the relationship hierarchy. The bottom to their twin tops. It was never hard to get the third of a thruple, but given how often they brought home a new one, it must have been terribly difficult to keep one.

Jim grinned and locked a downright predatory gaze on a newcomer to the club. He elbowed Tim.

“What about that one?” he said.

Tim turned to match his gaze. The man in question was maybe two years younger than them. In a different room, he might have been the most attractive guy around. Less bulky, but still nicely toned and athletic. Hot in his own way. He was decidedly less focused on his appearance. Long, slightly unkempt hair. Loose, well-worn clothes. The easy-going expression of someone who spent most of his time under the influence of some soft, recreational substance or another. But appearance wasn’t the only thing about him that got both Tim and Jim interested. Something about the way he carried himself was different. He slouched a bit. Hung around the edge of other groups, taking cues from them.

“Oh, yeah. Look at him,” Tim said. “A follower in search of a leader.”

“A bottom in search of a top,” Jim said.

“It’s his lucky day,” Tim said.

They marched across the club. The crowd practically parted as they walked, like they were lions stalking the savanna and everyone else knew to keep from lingering between them and their prey. Tim approached the newcomer from one side. Jim from the other.

“Hey there. New in town?” Tim said.

“Oh!” said the other man, half-startled. “Yeah, man. I’m sort of passing through. This looked like a good place, you know? Expensive, though. Guess I’m not gonna stay here long. They don’t like it when you can’t afford a drink, you know?”

“Come with us. Get a drink at the bar,” Jim said.

“Oh, yeah, man. Like I said, I can’t–”

Tim put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go to the bar,” he said.

“...Yeah…” the newcomer said, practically transfixed.

The trio marched to the bar.

“The little guy will have a rum and diet coke,” Jim said. “Put it on our tab.”

“Uh… Right. Yeah, man. A rum and coke. Good thinkin’.”

“So what’s your name, buddy?” Tim asked.

“Chase,” he said.

“You’re going to have a good time tonight, Chase,” Jim said. “Me and Tim’ll make sure of that.”

~~~

Two hours and three-too-many drinks later, Chase was blushing as he stood between Jim and Tim in the elevator of the luxury highrise where they lived. It had indeed been quite a night so far. He’d never had two people take control of the evening so effectively. The two of them were like a pair of magnets, leading him along as he was trapped helplessly in their pull. It was glorious. Every time they told him what to do, or even just sort of did something and gave him that look, he felt it like a bolt of lightning, stoking the smoldering flames in his mind and making him hope the next direction they led him was somewhere private.

The elevator doors slid open and they led him to their door.

“So listen. Tim and I do everything together.” Jim leaned low. “And tonight, that means you.”

Chase trembled, his knees suddenly weak.

“S-sure man,” he said.

He would have stripped right there in the hallway if they’d asked him to.

The door opened and they slipped inside. The apartment was a studio, larger than the average house, with massive windows lining one wall. It was tastefully decorated with all manner of high-end furniture and works of art, but the eye was instantly drawn to the wall beside the entrance.

“Heh. The kid’s got an eye for beauty. That’s the trophy wall,” Tim said.

“Trophy wall…” Chase said vaguely, unable to take his eyes off it.

Row after row of colorful “trophies” hung on hooks, covering about two thirds of the wall. They were roughly circular, mostly an inch or less in thickness. They had a rubbery sheen to them, and ran the spectrum of colors from a peachy pink to a rich, chocolaty brown. Every fleshtone. Because they were all men. Or, at least, they had been. It was difficult to get a good idea of what shape they’d been before, but Chase got the impression they were mostly athletic and toned… kind of like him. They had eyes half lidded, mouths wide with the mounting hook sticking through it. Most were blushing. He blushed as well, thinking about where the hook must have been slipping through on the other side. Now and then the eyes of one of the disked men would shift toward him. That seemed to be the most they could do.

“I guess this is where we give the disclaimer,” Jim said, peeling off his shirt while Tim did the same. “See, the night isn’t over until Tim and I are through with you.”

“We work hard and we play hard,” Tim said.

“So we’ll be playing with you, good and hard,” Jim said. “If you’re up to the task, and you last the night. You’re our boy toy.”

“It’s got a lot of perks,” Tim said.

“But if you turn out to be not-so-resilient? On the wall you go.”

“Not without its perks either,” Tim said. “If these walls could talk, they’d tell you some tales, buddy boy.”

Jim snorted. “They used to be able to talk.”

“So what do you say, little man? Ready to play the game and see how you handle us?”

“Wow, man, I–”

Jim leaned down to Chase’s ear.

“The answer is ‘yes, sir.’” He whispered.

“Yes sir!” Chase said, his dick already straining at his pants.

“That’s a good boy toy,” Tim said, dropping his shorts and briefs on the ground.

~~~

For fifteen magnificent minutes, Chase was the meat in a man sandwich. The three of them had crawled onto a king size bed and indulged in one another like drunk teenagers. Deep kisses. Powerful hands running over tight muscles gleaming with sweat. The two bulky men took turns instructing Chase what he should do to the other. When he did well, he was rewarded with firm caresses and teasing nibbles. Almost too soon, the foreplay was over.

“On your feet, let’s go,” Tim huffed.

“Oh, yea,” Jim said. “It’s time for the tower.”

“Tower?” Chase said breathlessly as he was ushered to his feet.

He tried to stand straight, but a strong hand grabbed him by the hair and pushed him forward. He bent at the waist and found himself face to face with a throbbing cock practically the size of his forearm.

“Well?” Tim said, nudging Chase in the lips. “Eat up.”

Chase didn’t have to be told twice. He steadied himself with hands on Tim’s hips and took the tip in his mouth. Slow, savorly slurps of his tongue curled around it as he widened his jaws and eased ever so gently forward to take in more of his length.

Tim grunted.

“Mmmh. This one’s downright dainty.” He laced his fingers through Chase’s long hair and tugged him closer. “He’s so light I feel like I’m going to push him over. I’m going to have to ram him up against a wall if I’m going to get some proper penetration.”

Chase’s eyes widened as he felt strong hands on his hips.

“I’m the wall,” Jim said.

The twunk between the two hunks squeaked as he felt thumbs gently spread his cheeks, then felt the tip of a second dick start to probe his tight little knot. Once it found it’s target, Jim ceased to be gentle. With slow, steady pressure, he drove himself deeper, pushing him forward and ramming more of Tim’s length down his throat in the process. The sheer girth stretched him magnificently. If his throat wasn’t stuffed with Tim’s hog, he would have been moaning with exquisite, blissful agony at the raw pleasure. The pressure continued until he felt first Tim’s balls against his chin, then Jim’s balls against his thighs.

They started to pump and thrust, perfectly in unison. They’d slide out an inch or two, then ram back to the hilt. Chase squeaked and squealed through his packed throat, eyes rolling back as his dick started to drizzle in preparation for what was sure to be the greatest pounding of his life.

“Oh yeah…” Jim moaned.

“Eiffel Tower, baby,” Tim roared.

They high fived over him, the signature move that gave this position its name. But rather than simply putting their hands back on his head and hips to finish up, they interlaced their fingers and joined their other hands as well. Muscles bulged and flexed as they pulled toward each other. Chase released something between a wheeze and a muffled, delirious giggle as they somehow drove themselves deeper even though they were already balls-deep inside him on both ends.

It was more than his body could handle. The jizz sprayed out of him like it had been wrung out by pressure alone, but Jim and Tim were far from finished. They started humping again, just as before, but barely letting off the pressure between thrusts. They didn’t slide out at all, but with each thrust Chase felt their stiff meat slide just that little bit deeper. His mind was lost in a haze of pleasure, locked in an orgasm that seemed to spooge more and more with each thrust. His spin felt like jelly. His muscles felt like taffy. Tim’s dick felt like it had slipped past his throat and into his stomach. Jim’s dick felt like it had traveled halfway through his intestines. He could feel the two throbbing rods stirring his insides, plowing deeper. Then, with twin grunts, he felt his stomach pump full from both sides.

He couldn’t look, but from the way they shifted, he could feel that they had each slumped forward, falling into an embrace over him. If he had a few brain cells that weren’t busy grappling with the intense pleasure, he might have wondered how they could reach. Any time for such a puzzle was washed away as, impossibly, the two hunks started humping again.

They weren’t done yet!?

“Almost there,” Tim said.

“I can almost feel it,” Jim said.

They pulled hard at one another. Chase’s eyes crossed as the pressure spiked. It felt like his whole body was being wadded up in someone’s fist, flesh mashed and crushed, squeezing nerves tighter and tighter together until every inch of his flesh was as sensitive as his dick and ass. Two little pops inside him signaled the full entry into his belly and suddenly Jim and Tim were docking, slipping and sliding their dicks against each other inside his belly. And they continued to thrust. Now Jim’s dick was traveling up the path forged by Tim’s dick, and vice versa. Both his throat and his ass were stretched by side-by-side meat. Even his moaning squeaks were silenced as he was stretched tight and mashed tight at the same time. Now Jim’s tip popped out of his lips, sliding beside Tim’s shaft and starting to inch up between his belly and Chase’s face. At the same time, Tim’s tip eased out of Chase’s ass and slid up along Jim’s belly. He was little more than a rubbery cock ring packed tight around them as they humped each other’s toned bellies. They mashed one last time and a second fountain practically glazed him with warm goo. The two tops released a final, triumphant grunt and popped free.

Chase dropped to the ground with a floppy, wet slap. After a few seconds to recover, he heard Tim mutter.

“Where’d he go?” the big man mused.

Fingers pinched the rubbery flesh that was left of Chase from their love making. He was mashed so flat, Tim picked him up between thumb and forefinger. WIth his thumb pressed against his smashed-flat balls and his finger pressing to his chin. He released a stifled moan as Tim tested his squishness with a gentle squeeze.

Jim leaned down to look the flattened bottom in the eye.

“Didn’t hold up so good. Might as well get you into shape then,” he said.

Chase huffed a whistling breath of relief through his nose, fully expecting to be stretched back into shape, maybe for another round once he recovered. Instead, he felt powerful hands gather up his dangling legs, the only things not pounded into a pancake, and roughly mold them into the rubbery disk. He felt powerful hands squeeze and stretch him around his perimeter, working him like a piece of pizza dough. Each tug lit up his pleasure center like a christmas tree. If he had anything left, he would have erupted twice more before they were done shaping him. He didn’t need to wonder what shape he was in. He could feel the roundness of it. He was just another disk. Another trophy for the wall. They took him over to the sink and gave him a soapy rinse like he was nothing more than a washcloth. A smash and twist wrung him dry, and spiked him through yet another climax that was visible to the world as nothing more than a gentle tremble of his rubbery form.

Finally, he was taken to the wall. He felt a cool hook squeak between his cheeks and pop out his mouth. Jim dusted off his hand and the pair admired their handiwork.

“A nice addition to the collection,” he said.

“We’ll have to pick a real winner to top this one,” Tim said.

“Same time tomorrow?”

“Totally. Gotta build a new tower, right? Come on. Let’s do another round. Mashing that guy into shape got me all worked up again.”

The pair marched off. Chase wobbled slightly, producing the softest little squeak has his rubbery, disked body clenched the hook he hung on, sending a nice zing of pleasure through his stretchy form. He glanced aside and blushed a bit more as Tim and Jim started to go at it. He squeezed around the hook again and enjoyed the show.

I could get used to this… he mused, squeaking himself a little tighter.