Belied by the hedonism that appeared to define Matsumoto Rangiku’s life was a variety of acceptant indifference rarely observed in Shinigami. While no less likely to take matters of importance into her own hands than her more rigid coworkers, her approach towards most everything else was influenced by a willingness to embrace negatives with the same openness that another individual might positives.
Much like any other individual, the most prevalent examples of how her approach affected the quality of her life persisted within her pastimes. Regardless of the sum of money lost in an evening of gambling, she happily shrugged off her debts as motivation to approach her next evening of games with additional gusto. Likewise, the consequences of her desire to make every session of drinking she enjoyed ‘worthwhile’ (i.e., drinking enough to leave herself uncomfortably hungover the day after) were discounted by her as signage that she had enjoyed whatever time she had spent drunk. And, on occasions wherein the evenings themselves were represented by a massive blank within her memory, she prioritized reminiscing on the fun that surrounded these blanks over dwelling on the events that they contained.
If somewhat questionable relative to the position that she maintained within the Soul Society, one could not effectively argue that her lifestyle was detrimental. Whilst approaching her tasks within the spirt world, her habits rarely (if ever) affected her efficiency on the job. As a result, the time that she spent within the human world, this being time spent within a gigai indistinguishable from her actual appearance, became inconsequential. Having acquired the reputation of a woman capable of cleaning up after herself, inconsistencies that might’ve raised eyebrows for less experienced Shinigami were accepted as “Rangiku being Rangiku'' by those around her.
Of course, for as much as Rangiku appreciated the freedom that she earned, her peers’ willingness to leave her to her own devices was occasionally her undoing. Such was her current circumstance that she could not help but think on the subject—a clear violation of what was the ‘norm’ for her.
Then again, her circumstance was far from normal as well. Few and far between were the evenings wherein she stumbled out of the drinking districts of Kamakura town drunk enough to be wobbly. Comparably sparse were the evenings wherein her drinks made her feel warm and light-headed, and to a greater extent, those wherein she needed to be escorted from the mouth of a bar into an unused ground-floor apartment less than a block away from it.
Had she managed to enlist someone from the Soul Society to drink with her, neither of these things would have occurred. As she hadn’t, her tipsiness resulted in her being whisked away by a trio of tiny human males, and later propped up atop the lip of a worn mattress within an rundown bedroom.
Around the time Rangiku sobered up enough to recognize what had come to pass, the situation she had ended up in escalated beyond her control.
Clamoring against her at her front, left, and right were three boys that she could not help but recognize. Ostensibly little (given their heights), their dingy complexions and the warped, sometimes wholly off-putting state of their skulls and facial features often made her wonder if they were actually older boys who had simply aged into greasier, slightly more hormonal versions of themselves.
Easily as she might’ve convinced herself of this, the behavior that they displayed around her was unmistakably childish. On evenings wherein she left a given bar sober enough to think, or really, any other point in time she made herself present on the streets of Kamakura, the three of them somehow found the time to accost her about the size of her assets and the state of her clothing. To her, their teasing jeers were the exact sort of thing that one could expect from horny little boys—even if it was particularly off-putting.
That these teasing jeers belied genuine sexual desire and a willingness to realize it by any means necessary had never once crossed her mind. Nevertheless, subjection to the sensation of clammy palms groping at the supple puffiness of her thighs and the sight of their naked owners leering at her like a pack of geriatric degenerates made it very easy for her to accept it as a reality.
Really, it was the only one that made sense. Of the children she knew that were brazen enough to spike her drinks and drag her intoxicated frame off to a secluded room to have their way with it, none were better candidates than the three surrounding her.
Being herself, Rangiku’s acceptance of this reality did not result in her submitting to it. Since piecing together what had happened to her, the time that her unsightly suitors spent groping her frame was time that she spent searching for an out.
Some minutes into this effort, she found that no such ‘out’ existed. Evidently, whatever alcohol she had consumed had rendered her gigai uncomfortably hot and abnormally weak. Peeling off the brats attached to her assets was not an option, nor was abandoning the gigai and returning to the spirit world.
Succinctly, she was stuck. If she was to have any say in what was to happen to her, ‘participating’ in her utilization was her only option.
Adaptive and acceptant by nature, this realization prompted her to speak. Thus far content to slant her flushed features away from the naked children invested in her frame, she exhaled, and finally regarded them with the attention that their brazenness deserved.
Seemingly dissatisfied with the timing of her choice, reality saw fit for her doing so to coincide with the hooking of a child-sized finger into the bloated cleavage of her black tube dress, and a downward tug of its fabric out of contact with the naturally-oversized flesh-melons hanging from her chest.
Not to be dissuaded, Rangiku spoke through it anyway.
“Let me guess. One, or all three of you took my ignoring you constantly as an insult, and decided that it’d be a good idea to drug and fuck me to ‘teach me a lesson’.” she began, tone surprisingly listless for a woman in the midst of being molested. “It’s just a guess, but being honest, why you’re doing this doesn’t really matter to me. You’re not really going to stop if I just tell you to, so there are more important things we could be talking about.”
“Like how we can get this over with, for example. Believe it or not, I have better things to do than playing the part of jerk-off fuel for a bunch of weird looking brats.” she continued. “So, instead of you fumbling through whatever it is you were going to put me through, how about you use your words like good little degenerates and describe how it is you want to blow your loads with my body.”
“Sound good, Masato?”
Addressed, the boy squatting ahead of Rangiku’s front peeled his gaze off of her exposed breasts up into a sneer down at her face. At this, he briefly smeared a greasy tuft of combed-over hair atop his skull to its right edge, then hooked his crotch inwards and upwards to penetrate the underside of her cleavage with his erection.
In ownership of a 3-inch extension of precum-greased cockflesh and a distinctly child-sized frame supported by the mattress beneath them, this act did not require much effort from him. Past it, he ‘responded’ to Rangiku with a compression of his palms against the outer sides of her breasts, and a snide parting of his lips.
“Uhihi, guess I didn’t dose your drink as bad as I thought.” he chuckled, wheezily. “You were supposed t’be out of it for a couple hours, but this might actually be better. Now we can have you do all the stuff that a fat-breasted jizzdump like you is built for so we can focus on getting off!”
To this, Rangiku furrowed her brow in disgust. Nonetheless, the focus of her attentions remained precisely where it had started.
“…Figures that a kid with a face like yours would say something as gross as that.” she sighed. “Anyway, are you just going to squat with your cock between my tits, or are you going to actually explain? Whatever drugs you used aren’t going to last forever, so if you miss your chance to ‘dump cum’ into me, that’s on you.”
Mildly incensed at the older woman’s retort, Masato drew his sneer wider. First dragging his cock back through the bloated compression offered by Rangiku’s tit-orifice, he subsequently flicked his gaze upwards to direct her attention towards the ceiling.
This done, he began smearing his precum against the inner sides of her breasts (via a short thrusting pattern) and speaking in tandem.
“T-Tch! Even on drugs, you’re the same old mouthy bitch!” he grunted. “If you’re that hungry for cockjuice, stand up so that Keita and Yuno can fuck you properly too! And hold onto my waist while you do it!”
“Squeeze your tits down on my cock, too! That’ll make it way easier for me to blow my load!”
At last provided with something to do, Rangiku invested herself in it. Being no stranger to having her breasts used as an orifice, willing her wobbly frame upright and replacing Masato’s grasp on her breasts with a mushing of her palms into their outer sides proved far easier for her than listening to the boy speak. A moment following her fingers impression into the ample flesh and fat that constituted the H-cup pillows, reflexes she had developed throughout years of servicing her sexual partners very nearly drew her wrists into a kneading pump of her tits along the child-sized erection throbbing against them.
An instant short of success, she was impeded. Despite mastering the art of standing upright in heels whilst the meat of her thighs were pressed near-to contact with one another by a tight dress, doing so whilst a pair of unsightly children nuzzled the undersides of their erections against her legs was not something she stood prepared to deal with. Initially taken aback by the sensation of balmy cockflesh throbbing against her thighs, her entire process was eventually stymied by the impression of sweat-moistened cheeks against the dress-gloved peaks of her buttocks.
While confusing and debilitating for her, Keita and Yuno believed their actions to be completely reasonable. Like Masato, the decidedly-unattractive youths had found themselves aroused by Rangiku’s appearance from the first day they had laid eyes on her. But, whereas Masato allowed himself to become addicted to the swollen mass of her breasts, their interests were bewitched by the shapely girth of her thighs, the plump, jiggle-prone swell of her buttocks, and the manner in which she presented them.
So far as they were concerned, her stalks deserved this much attention and more. Owning the thickness of scaled-down tree trunks and muscular indentations granted by just the right amount of physical activity, the mildly-tanned limbs owned visual qualities capable of attracting the attention of males far less perverse than they were. By virtue of Rangiku’s refusal to wear long-length dresses or shorts that covered even half of their expanse, the mouthwatering mass that they maintained had been presented to the pair in a number of states as well. Sometimes laid bare and sprinkled with alluring droplets of sweat, and sometimes suckled by tight, pliant fabric that presented their fat more prevalently, the mental images that the boys harbored for them were progressively garnished by a perverse brand of variety.
Best of all were the heels that propped them up. Though Rangiku did not always don them, the occasions wherein she did presented her buttocks as seeming fuller, and her thighs seeming even more sultry. To a point, it was their presentation on these nights that had attached the two of them to Masato’s plan in the first place. Given the opportunity to masturbate with them—among other parts of her frame—no risk was too significant for them to take.
Under the influence of this mindset, Rangiku’s standing upright again was a dream come true for them. Starved and shameless, both boys dug their batons of sex-greased cockflesh along the back of her thighs, and soon afterwards began pumping their crotches inwards and outwards to grind the underside of their glans upwards and downwards along their plush.
In both cases, depth was exchanged for speed. After minimal compressions against their inviting bloat, manic, pleasure-focused thrusting patterns dragged both phalluses back and forth through curved slopes along several inches of thigh-flesh. ‘Effective’ in the sense that perverse grimaces were dragged across the faces of their perpetrators within seconds of their execution, these thrusting patterns muddled Rangiku’s thought processes enough to draw a frustrated outburst from between her lips.
Tragically, the juncture at which she released it was amongst the worst possible for it.
“F-Fuck! Have you two not jerked off for a week or something? Why does it feel like you’re pissing lube against my thighs?” she spat, angrily. “Ugh, fucking—w-whatever! Just finish up quick, alright? Standing in these heels like this is the worst; the last thing I need is to have to do it while your gluey dickjuice starts dribbling down by t-th—”
Whilst in the midst of her outburst, the noise and motion produced as Masato masturbated with the depths of her breast-orifice amounted to an interruption that Rangiku couldn’t ignore. Without a moment’s notice, the sloppy clapping of the boy’s crotch up against the lower face of her cleavage was capped off by a compressed discharge of semen up into the contrived orifice’s midpoint.
As a woman with breasts large enough to contain the orgasms of adult males, the sensations that accompanied the event were far from novel for Rangiku. Per usual, a wealth of twitching and throbbing from her suitor’s length preceded repeated ejections of molten warmth up towards the midpoint of her breast-sleeve’s length. Each released with hardly a second in-between one another, their compilation created layered smears between the inner sides of her breasts whose compression against one another simulated a ‘clogging’ of her orifice with cockjuice. Over time, the length of this clog was fed additional volume by the continuation of his release, and the squirming of the sperm cells that it contained became harder for her to ignore as a result of their compaction.
It was not until the ‘climax’ of Masato’s climax resulted in a weak, volcanic eruption of nut from the peak of her cleavage that she was forced to hold her tongue. Throughout it, a guttural splattering noise akin to the depression of glue from a partially-emptied paste tube burst from between her breasts up through to a partial streaking across her neck.
Behind its release, Rangiku abandoned her chastisement of the gremlins at her legs entirely. Equal parts enraptured by the outflow of semen between her breasts and annoyed by it, the utterance that she produced in the wake of the happening ushered in a period of silence for her.
This period was as short as it was impactful. After a stint of domination by the grunting and groaning of the boys fucking the exterior of her thighs, the air of the bedroom was taken up by Masato for a second time.
Unsurprisingly, his first words post orgasm were no less perverse than those he had produced preceding it.
“Uoooghhh!! J-Jeez, I knew a titfuck-creampie with you would feel crazy, b-but this is even better than I thought!” he wheezed, voice now toned even more sharply. “It feels like they’re still sucking cum out of my balls and I’m not even moving! I-If there weren’t so many other ways to have fun with your body, I might’ve just settled for emptying myself between them, hyaha!”
While speaking, Masato hinted at his refreshed intentions by unwrapping his legs from around Rangiku’s midsection and abandoning his palms’ compression against the outer sides of her shoulders. Through these things, he earned a semen-stymied detachment of his crotch from Rangiku’s cum-stuffed bust that left his inexplicably-waifish lower body suspended directly ahead of her breasts.
As well, he earned a means of redirecting Rangiku’s attention. Now free to use both of his hands, he pointed his index fingers down towards the ground as if to inform her of where he wished to be next.
Amidst the gesture, he used his voice to disambiguate it.
“We’re not done yet, though! I’ve been kinda hogging you, so let’s put this bed to good use, shall we?” he continued, utterance capped off by a perverse snort. “Hurry up and put me down already! I’m gonna try to squeeze out the rest of my jizz into your asshole. And while I’m at that…”
“Hey! What’re you guys thinking about doing to her, anyway?”
Still very much taken up in grinding their juvenile endowments against Rangiku’s thighs, Keita and Yuno did not respond to their companion’s question immediately. Within the same span of time he had spent working himself up to an orgasm between Rangiku’s breasts, the two of them devoted themselves to doing the same with her thighs.
Sadly, for as much as they adored the stalks, the amount of pleasure that they could derive from simply driving their cocktips against the double-thick precum layers they had spread out across the limbs' backsides was not sufficient for them to find release. Denied the deafening euphoria of an orgasm as a result, their heeding Masato was in part a result of their own desire for a change.
Without an orgasm (or several) to complement their dream event, all of the effort that they had put into their participation would go to waste.
“I’m gonna have her suck out everything I built up with those glossy dick-sucking lips she’s got!” Keita exclaimed, desperately. “I really wanted to just fuck her thighs by pressin’ ‘em together, but if you’re going to stir up her butt, that’ll have to wait, hihii!”
“Yeah, what he said!” Yuno interjected. “You’re going to slurp loads out of both of us, Rangiku! I’ve saved up cum for a whole week, so you’d better be ready to gulp down a bunch!”
Momentarily made a ‘third wheel’ within a conversation that directly concerned her, Rangiku defaulted to placidity and receptiveness until her reality denied her the ability to do so. When finally Keita and Yuno released her thighs, she set Masato down as he had requested, and afterwards motioned to sit back down at the foot of the mattress behind her.
Before she could complete the motion, her revulsion at the boys beneath her drew another strained exhalation out of her throat. Contrary to the implications of the aroused color that persisted within her cheeks, its contents did not sound at all debilitated by pleasure.
In fact, it almost sounded as though it was devoid of emotion altogether.
“Talk about asking for a lot. I don’t know if your loads are going to be anything like the mess that Masato churned out of his balls, but chugging down two at once is still probably going to be a nightmare.” she lamented, thinly. “I really wanted my humiliation throughout...well, whatever this is, to stop at getting my thighs painted with little-boy jizz, but I doubt any of you care…”
Trailing her voice, Rangiku granted her light-headed frame what it desired and dumped herself out back-first along the mattress behind her. On contact, she propped her upper body up on her forearms just slightly and resumed her lidded eye-contact with the boys ahead of her.
At a glance, this transition had replaced some of her facial discontentment with exasperation as well.
“So if you’re going to force me, force me. I’m sure as hell not about to spread my legs for a bunch of brats, so you’re included in that too, Masato.” she continued. “I can’t do anything about this situation, but I’m not about to put any effort into this if you don’t first.”
Ever a woman detached from regret, Rangiku taunted the unsightly trio without a moment’s thought as to what her doing so would induce.
Even when they surged atop the mattress alongside her and took up positions required for their satiation, she did not engage in any of the seething that could be expected of a woman in the midst of being violated.
To her, such feelings were pointless. Disgusted or no, only one thing was capable of drawing her from out of her plight:
Fucking the unsightly children that surrounded her until their balls were empty.
APPROXIMATELY 3 HOURS LATER
After her third orgasm, Rangiku’s capacity for shrugging off difficult situations in the same manner she did inconsequential ones failed her. It did not do so outright, nor did its failure leave her in a state any worse off than she would have been had it not.
All the same, it failed. Midway through the third full ‘rotation’ imposed onto her body by Masato, Ketia, and Yuno, she found her mind swamped by a degree of pleasure that she could not simply glance off.
Her tolerance for stimulation played no part in this. Intestines splattered with a total of 5 loads of semen contributed by the trio—the majority of which sat welled near the end of her large intestine—and lips plastered with the dregs of 4 orgasms messily funneled into her mouth, one could not even begin to argue against her having endured intolerable amounts of pleasure. The fact of the matter was that she lay outnumbered from the moment she availed herself for the trio to use. Overwhelmed by their inexhaustible libidos and aggression, even she could not help but succumb.
Fairly stated, what this looked like for her was very different relative to what it may’ve looked like for another woman. Post her toppling from the precipice of her sexual tolerance by the unplugging of Yuno’s 3-inch thimble of cockflesh from her innards—this event being followed by a limp splutter of excess semen from the blown-out embrace of her sphincter—Keita immediately replaced the void left within her rear by skewering the nose of his cock into it straight behind his friend. Then, before she could adjust herself to the stinging bliss induced by her re-filled innards, a thrust from Masato’s crotch pressed the cum-dolloped tip of his member up into contact with the right edge of her lip.
She did not need to be instructed as to his motivations for doing so. Still, she was told—
Just as she had been several times before.
“C’mon, you should get the routine by now, Rangiku!” Masato chirped, playfully. “I won’t be able to cum again until you clear out the cum left inside of my dick, so start sucking already! You’ve got Yuno’s dick to worry about too, so don’t get lazy on us!”
“None of us are empty yet, and until we are, we’re not going to stop!”
Met with yet another order from Masato, Rangiku somehow managed to hold herself to the frame she had established prior to her breakdown. Desperate to keep the children surrounding her from deducing what they had accomplished, she arranged her jizz-plastered features into yet another indifferent scowl, then turned her skull just slightly to deliver an angled kiss against the bloat of his glans.
Once planted, she snapped into an escalation. Parting her lips, she hungrily plugged the semen-caked flesh-helmet between them. Painfully familiar with its flavor and girth, its disappearance saw her begin suckling against it as though it were a straw. Following a vacuum-like application of pressure against its exterior, she took to messily bobbing her lips along several inches of his length so as to drink from it as he had requested.
In a word, her efforts were masterful. Within a handful of repetitions, languid wads of semen caught within Masato’s length were drawn into dense burbles out against the face of her tongue. Despite this, the volume of saliva and throatslop that leaked from her mouth throughout was kept to an appreciable minimum—this in turn applying a stifling gooiness to the confines of her oral cavity.
Two perks were wrought from her dexterity. The first was the creation of a raucous chain of *SCHLRP* noises that conveyed the slimy, lubrication-stuffed condition of her mouth with each bob of her skull. The second was a firm division of visual appeal between her lips and her face. In particular, a glance down from Masato would present her flushed, cum-smattered visage in the midst of a perverse, lip-focused suckling on the nose of his length without either portion of the presentation overwhelming the other.
Knowing precisely what her efforts were likely to produce, Rangiku used them to her advantage as soon as she could. Several quick gulps after her milking session began, she peeled her skull backwards to pop her lips off of Masato’s glans all together.
This done, she purposed them for something far more ‘on-brand’ than a dutiful drainage of the unattractive youth’s shaft.
“* PPPAH~! *”
“T-There, drained enough for you?” she asked, words thin and jumpy as a result of the goings on below her waist. “I never know what to expect with any of you gross brats, so just tell me if you're satisfied or not. You should’ve run out of jizz ages ago, yet here you are still—MGLLLKUK~!”
Understandably without her usual wherewithal, Rangiku continued speaking just slightly longer than she should have. Past her prescribed stopping point, a combination of Yuno’s yanking her lips away from Masato’s glans and jamming his own into her mouth halted her addressal of Masato before it could be completed.
Soon afterwards, completing it was shoved to the very back of her list of priorities. Per its angling, Yuno’s thrust dug his glans into a tenting impression against the center of her right cheek. Like this, the underside of his cock was pressed across her tongue as a horizontal bar, and her ability to manipulate her lips in speech was thrown out the window.
Subsequently, Masato made her already difficult situation considerably worse. Copying his peer, he pressed his cock downwards and inwards and plunged it into the left side of her mouth. Barring her tongue in a similar manner to Yuno, his completion of this plunge bled into the beginning of a slow, pendulum-like swing of his crotch. Evidently content to ‘fuck’ the pocket of cheek flesh he had smothered with his cock, he selfishly utilized as much of her oral cavity as she could without impeding Yuno.
By virtue of experience, this happening funneled a lamentation through Rangiku’s mind before even a second of Masato’s thrusting elapsed.
“There’s no way. T-There’s no fucking way I’m gonna be able to manage both.” she whined. “How am I going to manage the two of them fucking my mouth at once?”
So did she think these things to herself did Yuno begin thrusting his cock back and forth in mimicry of Masato. Face made a sleeve for the boys' cocks yet again, thinking acquired a new level of difficulty for Rangiku within seconds.
Fortunately, she was not required to continue doing so for long. As soon as her ability to make use of her faculties returned to her, Keita’s thus-far modest stirring of her rear took an unexpectedly aggressive turn.
Somehow, the thin, facially-wart-struck boy found it within himself to hike her legs up from their modest spread to avail her asshole in earnest. In the split second that she was provided to think about it, Rangiku reasoned that he had accomplished this effort piecemeal. In the midst of plunging his meat through the mess of semen and convulsion that had been made of her lower intestines, he leaned from her left, then to her right to set one of his hands into contact with the pegs of her heels. As soon as the tips of his fingers made contact with them, he hoisted up her massive stalks one at a time, then drew them into a much more ‘child-friendly’ spread controlled by his palms’ envelopment of her heel pegs.
Understandably, ‘how’ was as far as she got with breaking down the process. After slanting her gaze down towards Keita and coming to terms with what had made the pummeling of her folds so much more impactful, the pleasure that was funneled through her reproductive organs demanded that she succumb to it.
It was not as though Keita’s thrusting pattern was anything special. Endowed with a 3-inch spire of vascular, masturbation-fattened cockmeat hardly different from those sported by the gremlins jerking themselves off with her mouth, Keita’s ministrations should have fallen well below her usual capacity for stimulation.
However, she, too, was well below her usual. As soon as the boy dipped his torso backwards so as to inject more depressive ‘pop’ into each of his thrusts, the meat of her intestines rebelled against the stimulation pressed through them. For every full-length wrench of squirming cockflesh through their midst, tooth-chipping amounts of stimulation were squeezed against the congested meat of her inner walls to the point at which orgasmic contractions accompanied them as a rule rather than an exception. When reversed by the sharp piston-flicks that Keita produced with his hips—these individually intensified by starved nuzzles of the boy’s face against the creases between her thighs and kneecaps—similarly punishing surges of stimulation were pressed from her sphincter upwards.
Assaulted by such a novel mixture of stimulation, Rangiku’s ability to persist through her fucking naturally failed her completely. Only seconds into the acceleration of Keita’s thrusts, her eyes rolled up to the peaks of their sockets, and her mind succumbed to a dedicated adherence to all things to do with her fucking.
Everything—right down to the telling throbs of the cocks spreading her holes.
“H-How are these gross little brats still going? Their cocks are throbbing like they just started fucking me minutes ago, but it’s been hours. I-I can barely fucking think without it feeling like they’re fucking my brains out, yet nothing has changed with them…” she lamented.
“I-It has to be something to do with the way their bodies look, right? N-Normal looking kids don’t cum like this, and they’re sure as hell not the kind of gross perverts that’d be happy fucking one side of my mouth with their friends.”
“Khh…even their cum is getting blended up inside me even more. My asshole feels l-like it’s fucking clogged with it…”
“G-God I wish I could just scream at them to finish blowing their loads already. I-If I have to take anymore, I-I might just...”
“Oh god…o-oh fuck…”
“W-Why did I have to go and open my fucking moooouthhhh~.”
Only seconds into her lamentation, Rangiku’s preoccupation with the nature of her fucking gave her mind a reason for pause. Over the course of several seconds, the throbbing of the cocks rifling through her holes accelerated to a pace that she couldn’t ignore. Whilst vaguely aware of what was to come, the scrambling of her thoughts robbed her of the ability to brace herself for it.
Had she been in a less sex-addled state, Rangiku could have predicted most everything about the orgasms flushed into her. Between the aggressive throbbing that consumed the boys’ meatspires and the amount of time that had passed since the last set of orgasms they had enjoyed, signage for what was coming sat available in spades.
However, using it was beyond her. Thoroughly distracted by the sensation of Keita’s cock blending a vile mixture of the trio’s semen around within her asshole whilst at the same time spreading her modestly-used inner walls along its girth, the seconds that led up to their limits were dominated by a stupefying euphoria.
Predictably, the first load of semen to be flushed into her pushed her high to new heights. Behind an inward plunge of Keita’s crotch that smothered its face against the semen-glutted state of her own, a guttural *BLORT* unmistakable as semen’s injection into a slop-clogged hole heralded yet another deposit of sludge into her guts. In time with its rumble out from the face of Rangiku’s sphincter, a lengthy thread of semen was pressed through an arduous ascent through Keita’s length until it exploded out into the stretch of intestine lining ahead of his glans. Tragically without a spec of un-plastered gutmeat to drench with its warmth, the majority of its contents were consumed as additional volume for a jellied pool of semen held in place along these inches.
Behind the first, others followed. Head cocked back and throat engaged in a bestial howl that fit his decidedly bug-like appearance, Keita blasted similarly-heavy threads of semen through Rangiku’s intestines one after another. Each noisily consumed by the tube’s growing inundation in the exact same manner as their progenitor, the progressive growth of her lower intestine’s clogging eventually resulted in Keita’s member being forced into contact with its glut.
Subsequently, the amount of pleasure that rippled through the boy's crotch surged up to an extent that demanded acknowledgement from his throat.
“F-FUUUAAHHGHH!! I-I’m cummin’ again, Rangiku! I’m packing more dickjuice into your shithole!” he squealed. “I don’t got much left, but don’t get lazy! Suck out just as much as you did for Masato and Yuno!”
“Otherwise, I’ll just fuck you again!”
Even if she wished to adhere to Keita’s request, Rangiku lay too far gone to attempt anything that did not involve playing the part of a semen-dumpster for the boys surrounding her. Eyes pushed into yet another orgasmic roll up to the peaks of their sockets by his release and insides subjected to rolling waves of convulsion, the fact that she comprehended Keita any at all was something of a miracle.
What was more, his orgasm was not the only one that she needed to pay attention to. Only seconds after the beginning of Keita’s orgasm, the convulsions that thundered through the erections within her mouth resulted in two separate outflows of semen exploding out inside it. One at a time, periods of thrusting and groaning from Masato and Yuno saw their hips bunt their glans against her inner cheeks, and afterwards begin dousing the confines of her mouth with more semen.
Neither boy was especially quiet through the event, either.
“NNNGHHH S-Slurp it all out! U-Use your lips to drain my balls, Rangiku!” Masato yelled.
“L-Let’s see how you handle both our loads at once! D-Don’t you dare lose a drop!” stammered Yuno.
As the boys produced these outbursts, muddy white expulsions of semen smaller than those that had preceded them jetted out against the tented flesh of Rangiku’s cheeks. As most of their balls’ volume had already been expended between her asshole and throat, the strands that leapt from their erections were neither pressurized, nor voluminous enough to tax Rangiku in a significant way. Following the application of jellied smears against her inner cheeks, a combination of run off and bulbous dollops of nut released without the force of a full strand progressively contributed to the formation of a pool of the substance at the back of her throat. Comparably modest in its sizing, managing it was no more difficult for Rangiku than swallowing in time with the expulsions of semen that dribbled from her suitors’ shafts.
In the grand scheme of her plight, the simplicity of the task thrust upon her had little bearing on her handling of it. Abruptly made to deal with the outflow of squirming seed into her mouth alongside the substance’s renewed inundation of her asshole, Rangiku was pushed beyond her limit…
Not physically, but mentally.
“F-Fuckkkk…i-it’s too much! T-These brats are plugging me up with too much of their cockjuice!” she whined, inner voice strained by sexual pleasure. “I-I can’t believe I can’t handle it. G-Getting stuffed with their stinking jizz like this is actually gonna make me cum~!”
Made aware of her release’s inevitability by the stomach-warming twitches that began rippling through her uterus in response to Keita’s orgasm, Rangiku prepared herself for the event by squealing it to herself as cathartically as she could.
In doing so, its jmpact became far less crippling. Tempted into a genuine outburst by the steady unholstering of Keita’s semen-slogged member from her sphincter, internalizing her suffering allowed her to silence herself just long enough for her frame to settle with the release of a perverse moan instead.
Through this, further compromise came naturally to her. Incapable of doing anything to stymie the burst of sexual lubricant that splattered out of her folds, she coped with the event by turning her mind towards the future—
A point in time at which she could look back on being fucked senseless by children and laugh.