#STUPIDMUTT

Until his friends finally do arrive, you're so nervous it's caused a certain lightheadedness that only makes things worse. A simple "stay" orders you to remain by the couch while your owner moves to open the door for his friends, the greetings between the men echoing threateningly. The air freezes when they finally enter the living room. Toji, Suguru, Satoru. You know their names, though unable to place them. Upon making eye contact with the first one, you can't help but avert your gaze

Dark green eyes, intense coming from a man almost as big as your master. Black straight hair frames the sharp edges of his face, and the scar by his lip makes your breath hitch. He's way more intimidating than you anticipated. The second man grins as soon as he sees you, your curiosity met with bright blue irises, a nice match for the white shock of hair, and weirdly inviting. The final one to to step into the living room just ahead of Sukuna offers a weird sense of calmness with long dark hair falling over broad shoulders, and a smile like you're not currently naked in your collar next to the couch.

Three strangers, staring at you hard and dripping on your knees, trying to subtly cover the erection. Sukuna tsks, uninterested as he falls onto the couch, inviting the others to do the same. He must have told them about you, considering the very small amount of attention they continue to pay you.

Your eyes are glued to the floor, face burning at the sound of beer cans popping, and the sports game's narration being turned up in the background. They don't acknowledge you at all now, occupied with bets and banter, and stuff you can't fully hear with how loud the blood is rushing through your ears. Being ignored is so much worse than any other torment you could have imagined.

You jump a little when someone suddenly sits down next to you, a hand in your hair without permission. Not that you mind. "Hey, pup," he says casual, and cheerful, like you two have met before. Or like he'd talk to an actual dog he wants to befriend. "I'm Satoru," his eyes crinkle when you make shy eye contact, biting your lip to keep from speaking. Sukuna trained you to refrain from using human words when you wear your collar. Satoru still strokes over your hair, the affection unusual with Sukuna as your owner. You can't help but lean into it.

"You're even cuter than I expected," he continues, slim fingers skimming over the ears on your head. "Know any tricks?" Heat shoots to your cheeks immediately. Sukuna only taught you dirty tricks, the kind you don't dare to show off just like this. For example, he trained you to take his whole cock down your throat without gagging or breathing! You can also almost cum on command… Sukuna is still working with you on that trick, though.

You resort to offering your paw. Satoru displays impression, his touch leaving your hair to accept your "trick", thumb stroking over the back of your paw. "Good dog," he praises, and his eyes darken in the pause that follows. "… can you roll over, too?"

You visibly freeze at the thought of exposing your tummy, and hard dick to the group, completely vulnerable on your back. A different kind of fear overrides the idea of humiliation completely — it was only slight, but Sukuna turned his head just so, still the implication was obvious; you obey every command. You're on your back within the second, arms folded, legs spread. The perfectly submissive puppy pose.

Satoru's blue eyes seem almost eerily intense now, scanning your whole body with widened interest. You notice the man with the scar along his lip leaned back in the couch, watching casually like you're part of the sports performance on the Television. Sukuna and the third one are engaged in discourse about one of the players. The lack, and simultaneous mass of attention on you makes you feel lightheaded, you can't help but close your eyes to suppress the humiliation from getting too much.

Satoru's hand suddenly caressing your stomach makes you flinch, earning a coo from him. "Don't be scared, pup," he reassures, though his voice has switched to a deeper tone from before, "I'm just helping you out. You like tummy rubs, don't you?" his fingers caress your warmed skin, summoning goosebumps in their path. You can't help but bare your teeth when his hand finds your arousal, expected but still surprising. His touch is confident, ignoring the small growl vibrating through your throat, which Sukuna doesn't seem to have heard, lucky for you.

"You're so adorable. Puppy likes this, doesn't he? I can see your leg twitch, you know.. you can't pretend not to enjoy my hand…" Your growl has turned into a whine somewhere along his monologue, hips twitching into the warmth of his palm repeatedly. It feels strange getting touched by someone you don't know, in front of more people you've never met before… it's almost addicting.

Satoru works you into a reluctant orgasm, his attention shifting back to the sports game while he does so, not even looking when you cream over his palm, and bite your lip so hard it hurts to keep quiet. It's embarrassing how out of breath you are when he turns his attention back to you, a sadistic shimmer hiding behind his blue irises, calm in comparison to your heaving chest and hypersensitive cock.

"See?" he grins, rubbing your spunk between his fingers, "Told you you'd like that. All puppies do, you know? Now open up." Brain fuzzy from the orgasm, you part your lips without thinking about it, choking on it when Satoru shoves his fingers town your throat. The taste of your cum burns in the back of your throat, and he carelessly smears the rest over your face to leave there when he returns to the couch like nothing happened. Like all he did was greet the family dog, and didn't leave you covered in your own mess.

Composing yourself barely works — you can't help but feel sticky, and watched, and still not fully satisfied. "Dog." The voice is deeply commanding, satisfyingly masculine, and makes you turn your head immediately. "Come over here."

Thighs shaky, you make your way to the couch, nervously kneeling in front of the black haired, broad shouldered, very intimidating looking man. You pick up Satoru calling the visitor next to him Suguru, allowing you to coin the one who called you over as Toji. You try to maintain eye contact, but his gaze is looming, and too threatening to hold. You can't help but dart your attention over to Sukuna, catching his dark stare, and looking away immediately. Somehow this stranger doesn't seem soo scary anymore.

"Been told you take dick like a champ," Toji speaks, reaching out to grab your jaw, squeezing painfully. You stick your tongue out on instinct, showing off the wetness awaiting him inside. He doesn't care, letting go and leaning back against the couch, eyes returning to the football game, no longer acknowledging you with anything besides his words, "Go on. Suck."

Your fingers shake while unbuckling his pants, taking embarrassingly long without his cooperation. You suppress a gasp when his cock finally springs free. He's even bigger than your owner, something you were unsure if possible, intimidating now that you're expected to take it down your throat. Trained or not, the size will stretch you more than you're used to, and you can't help but shiver at the thought.

It feels huge when you take it in your hand, knowing better than to stall any longer. Toji's heavy musk fills your nose when you finally wrap your lips around the head of his dick, pulling back once before moving to allow him down your throat. It takes all of your concentration to relax around his girth, and still it brings tears to your eyes. Toji isn't even looking at you, hips only shifting slightly before his hand finds the back of your head, leisurely moving you along his cock like you're just some toy.

Your throat fights it, hitching around him, and it takes everything in you not to start choking. But this struggle goes entirely unnoticed, making it only more humiliating, especially when Toji casually takes a sip of his beer and comments the game, like he isn't even feeling anything from your efforts. It encourages you to try harder, bobbing in a rhythm ruthless to yourself, tears burning in your eyes, and jaw straining to fit Toji's shaft, but the reward of his tensing thighs is enough to warrant the pain.

His hand on the back of your head suddenly pushes, far and ruthless, nose nudged against the dark curls of his pubic bone. You weren't prepared, throat constricting, milking his orgasm unintentionally. Tears blur your vision, face numb with pain, only able to hear the deeply satisfying groan from Toji, unable to enjoy the visual of the man's head thrown back, relishing in the hot compression around his cock.

You sputter when you're finally allowed off, though don't allow yourself to cough for long, excruciatingly swallowing the pain to get back on his cock, slurping up the remaining cum and spit from Toji's shaft and balls before tucking him back into his pants. Eyes casting up, you're searching for approval, and surprisingly find it in Toji's amused smirk, a large and calloused hand suddenly by your cheek — it's too rough to be called a caress but you lean into it nonetheless. "Even cleaned me up, mutt. You did train him well, Su'."

Your insides flutter when you see your owner's proud grin, sharp canines on display, cocky in that way that makes your puppy parts twitch. But that's all you get, only a moment of attention before you're kneeling uselessly pathetic, ignored again. Used and discarded by the group… except for one. You look over, shy now to approach him without being invited. But there's this strange urge for completion, and the hope that Suguru might not only be able to satisfy you beyond what Satoru did, but also a reward from Sukuna for being such a welcoming host to all of his friends.

You crawl over, a certain heat overtaking your face and body, sensing everyone's attention on you, despite their eyes set on the TV. In front of Suguru, you somehow feel smaller than with all the others, his aura cold, intimidating in a genuinely fear-inducing way. Jumping over that shadow of terror, you sheepishly nuzzle against his knee, more hope than sense in the gesture. The condescending chuckle you get in response is both intriguing and nerve-wracking.

"I won't be that easy to please." In contrast to the others, you don't feel ignored here at all, quite the opposite — Suguru is almost paying too much attention, deep eyes piercing through you. For some reason, it makes you pout, a gesture Sukuna almost completely trained out of you — only brats pout and whine. Still something about Suguru makes that gesture return to your face. And it works.

He pats his thigh with amusement, and you find yourself straddling the large muscle, weirdly anxious and looking for comfort in his smile. There is none. Only the hint of a kind of sadism you only know from Sukuna. "Hands behind your back." You obey, interlinking your fingers to stay in that position, nervously biting your lip. "Make yourself cum before the game ends."

You're tempted to turn your head, check the TV for how much time you have, but something tells you Suguru wouldn't allow that. So you start, hesitant at first, but discarding any remaining shyness soon after. There's a certain panic to fulfill his request, especially upon noticing you're unable to get off at all. Your dick is still sensitive from Satoru's touch, but in a way that makes it painful to grind against Suguru's jeans, the friction only creating heat not pleasure. Your brows furrow in concentration, thighs starting to sting with fatigue, the muscles in your lower stomach getting tired.

"You're so creative, Sugu," Satoru chips in unexpectedly, grinning at you before reaching out to pinch at your chest. "Why didn't I think of making him do this?" You arch your torso into the touch, hoping it might aid an orgasm, but that is cut short when Suguru slaps the other's hand away. "Don't help him."

You whine unintentionally, the noise panicked and desperate, body aching and tired. You can't help but fall forward, resting your forehead on Suguru's shoulder with desperation. Your arms strain to stay where they are, but they do. Obedient. You try a different approach, angling your hips to grind the plug in your ass instead, but it's too little too late. The sudden silence when the TV shuts off makes you jump in terror.

You don't have time to react before you're yanked back by your hair, rough only in a way your owner can be — Sukuna looms over you, a mix of sadistic malice and genuine disappointment brewing in those blood red irises. He slaps you and you gasp, half having expected it, half startled by the humiliating violence displayed towards you. You tried so hard to be good, failing now almost makes you cry. "He gave you an order," Sukuna reminds you, reiterates your failure to meet the deadline. But the football game seems over and your orgasm no where near. All you can do is stare at him, puppy-eyes and stinging cheek. "Mutts get punished. Hope you prepped well, slut."

When he finally lets go of your hair, you're met with three pairs of eyes that look at you with a kind of hunger that makes you shiver, and somewhere deep down, you're glad you failed. After all, you didn't put in your biggest plug for nothing.