Rammer

Todd Maxwell, the man known as Mr. White, stirred from a haze of fevered sleep, his body slick with sweat on the stained sheets. Poison coursed through his veins—a slow, insidious burn that clawed at his insides. His eyes snapped open to the dim room, where Ricky Martinez and Danger loomed like shadows given form, their grins sharp as switchblades. They held the antidote, the only key to his survival, dangling it like a cruel promise. Hate festered in Todd's chest, a venom deeper than the toxin; he was a racist through and through, white-sheeted and unrepentant, despising these men with every fiber of his being. But death whispered close, and so he would submit. They led him to the sling, leather straps biting into his wrists as they hoisted him up, legs splayed wide, ass exposed and vulnerable. Ricky's fingers probed first, slick with lube, stretching him open with deliberate thrusts. Danger watched, stroking his thick cock, then stepped in, slamming home without mercy, pounding Todd's hole until raw pleas escaped his lips. Ricky took his turn next, face-fucking him deep while Danger's relentless rhythm shook the frame. Cum spilled inside him, hot and claiming, as they traded places, using his body like a vessel for their dominance—fucking him raw, breeding him full, until the antidote's promise hung on the edge of his shattered surrender.