Enforced Nudity - Part 2

Everyone is 18.

To my great dismay, Noah soon fell in love with a girl. When he was done using me, I was heartbroken, but since I was leaving for college anyway, I quickly became ready to move on. I thought things would not be the same, but I brought my same twink body and my same big, girly ass with me. So, I shouldn’t have been surprised when the guys treated me about the same as guys always had.

College was supposed to be different—a fresh start, a chance to leave everything behind. But then Covid hit, and everything went to hell. Believe it or not, when the first lockdown started, our RA actually disappeared to go home without telling the administration, so the dorm descended into literal chaos. It was like living in a frat house where the rules didn’t apply. My roommate, Cameron, was the ringleader of it all. He had this way of getting under people’s skin but making you like him for it anyway. He made me feel like I owed him something, and he always stared at my ass.

It started innocently enough—a dare to go without pants, then without underwear. I laughed it off at first, thinking it was just another one of his jokes. But then he hid my clothes, and suddenly it wasn’t funny anymore.

I tried to play it cool, stealing his clothes to wear when he wasn’t looking, but he caught on quickly. He locked them in a nearby dorm room as well, and just like that, I was trapped. I felt exposed, vulnerable, and yet there was this strange undercurrent of excitement that I couldn’t ignore. It was Noah and high school all over again. The way the guys looked at me—their eyes roaming over my body, their knowing smirks as I bounced my perky ass and my floppy cock down the hall—made my cheeks burn with a mix of shame and something else I couldn’t quite name, akin to a Lady Godiva freedom run thrill.

Cameron seemed to thrive on exhibiting my body and making me quiver. He’d strut around the room, his cock on full display, making sure I couldn’t look away. He’d even jerk off right in front of me, his hand moving lazily over his shaft as he watched me squirm. And then there were the mornings—waking up to the feel of his cock smacking against my face, or the weight of his sweaty balls pressing into my skin. I’d lie there, paralyzed, my heart pounding in my chest as he laughed, his laughter a weirdly comforting reminder that I was powerless.

But, the biggest change came the day he jizzed onto my face. I’d been asleep, lost in some vague dream, when I felt the mattress dip beside me. I opened my eyes just in time to see him stroking himself, his cock already releasing a small squirt of precum. He didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. His eyes locked with mine, and I knew what was coming. I tried to move, to turn away, but he grabbed me by the hair, pushing my head into position. My breath hitched as the first hot spurts hit my skin, painting my cheeks, my lips, my eyelids. He kept going, his groans low and guttural, until every inch of my face was coated. When he finally let go, I fell back onto the bed, my body trembling, my mind a whirlwind of confusion and shame.

And that’s when it started—the name-calling. 

“Little slut,” he’d call me, his voice dripping with mockery. “Super gay.” The words hit weirdly, but what I started to enjoy more was the way they made me feel—like I was nothing more than a puppet for his amusement. It was like I was supposed to hate him, to push him away, but the way he looked at me, the way he touched me, made it impossible not to like it. I was trapped, in a way, caught between the humiliation and the undeniable thrill that coursed through me every time he came near.

One day, Cameron took it a step further. He ordered me to kneel in front of him, my bare skin pressing against the cold dorm floor. His cock was hard, already leaking pre-cum, and he grabbed the back of my head, guiding my mouth down onto him. The first time it happened, I gagged, my throat closing instinctively around his length, but he didn’t stop. He just pushed deeper, his groans filling the room, until my lips were pressed against the base of his shaft. When he came, it was sudden and brutal, his cum flooding my mouth, my throat, coating my tongue in a bitter, salty film. He pulled out slowly, his cock glistening with my saliva, and smirked down at me. “Good boy.”

“Thanks,” I said, unsure of what I had just done. It was somehow different than taking it in the ass from Noah at home. It was more intimate, and also difficult. I was changed forever, again.

As Cameron continued to escalate my nude male sex toy requirements, the other guys in the dorm started to take notice. It wasn’t long before Cameron’s friends were lining up outside our door, their cocks already half-hard in anticipation. I could hear their laughter, their crude jokes, as they waited their turn. My mouth, my body, my shame, my excitement—it was all on display for their amusement. They’d take their time, teasing me, sometimes making me beg for it, before finally shoving their cocks into my mouth, my ass, using me until they were finished, their cum dripping down my chin, my thighs, my chest.

The weirdest part was the way it made me feel. The shame, the humiliation, the arousal. My body betrayed me, predictably hardening every time in response to their touch, their words, their laughter. I honestly didn’t understand it, the way my cock ached, the way my ass clenched around their cocks, and the way my throat welcomed their cum. But I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I can’t explain it, but I didn’t feel gay, but I couldn’t avoid the pleasure my body felt when I was used for their pleasure.

And then there was her. Amelia. The girl I’d actually had a crush on since high school. She came to the same college as me, but I had still never said a word to her in person. She was beautiful, with her long, dark hair and her soft, curvy body. I’d fantasized about her countless times, imagining what it would be like to touch her, to kiss her, to feel her body pressed against mine. But those fantasies paled in comparison to the reality of seeing her in our dorm room, her eyes wide with shock as she took in the scene before her.

Cameron had invited her over—under false pretenses, of course. He’d told her it would be a small gathering, just a few friends hanging out. But when she walked in, she was met with the sight of me, naked and on my knees, Cameron’s cock buried deep in my ass. I froze, my body tensing around him, but he didn’t stop. He just laughed, his hands gripping my hips, his thrusts relentless. “Come on in, Amelia. We’re just having a little fun.”

Her face flushed, her eyes darting between me and Cameron, but she didn’t leave. Instead, she stood there, watching, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Cameron didn’t waste any time. He pulled out of me, his cock slick with lube and precum, and grabbed Amelia by the wrist, pulling her closer. “Why don’t we head to the other room?” he purred, his voice low and dangerous.

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes locked on mine, and then, to my horror, she nodded. He began to help her out of her clothes before they even left the room. The thin walls did little to shield me from the sounds they made. He called her names similar to those he used for me. “Watch this, little slut.” Then, gasps, and their combined moans.

When they finished, he walked back into our room, his wet cock hanging low and thick between his legs. “Clean me up,” he ordered. I hesitated for a moment, my eyes flickering between his face and his cock, but then I crawled forward, my body trembling with anticipation. His cock was slick with her arousal, the scent of it filling my nostrils, and I leaned in, my tongue flicking out to taste her on his cock. 

“Good boy,” he murmured, his hand tangling in my hair as he guided my mouth back onto him. I sucked him eagerly, my tongue working his shaft, my throat opening up to take him deep, tasting her on him, and knowing I was pleasing a superior male. When he came, it was as sudden and brutal as always, his cum flooding my mouth, my throat, coating my tongue in his salty juices. He pulled out slowly, his cock glistening with my saliva, and smirked down at me. “Good boy.”

After that day, I was able to tell when a guy had recently fucked a girl as I was sucking him off. As I came to understand, the guys would regularly fuck some girl, sometimes Amelia, sometimes in front of me, and then I’d clean them off, my tongue lapping up the girl’s arousal, and their cum, until there was nothing left. They’d come into my room at all hours of the night, their cocks hard, their eyes dark with desire, and I’d service them, my mouth, my body theirs to use as they pleased. I was the enforced male nudity sex toy. I was a cuck. I was gay. I was kept in my place.

And I loved it. Every. Single. Moment.