There are three of them this time, two men and a woman.  Her you recognize from a previous session, with her interlocking array of tattoos and her thick cock, which the guy on her left is halfheartedly stroking.  Probably an enforcer for one of the local Yaks, not an important one if she’s chosen this particular meat market to treat herself and her subordinates to a little non-simulated reproductive stimulation.  The towel slips off your generous hips and you get to work.

You drop to your knees and take the boss into your mouth first, as is her right.  She leans back and throws her arms over the minions’ shoulders, sighing in satisfaction as you choke her down, a dick in each hand.  You’d rather wear the three of them out before you end up with all your holes filled at once, but she isn’t making it easy.  Whenever you try to pull your mouth off her fat dick, a hand fists in your curly hair and forces you back down, until you’re kissing her pubes around it while it pulses in your throat.  You’ll just have to take her out of the equation and then handle both the others.  The thug on the left cracks a joke when cock in your throat swells, and then you’re swallowing a load.  The penis slides out of your mouth in time for the owner to backhand you to the floor.  One down, two to go.

Half an hour later they’re still going.  There’s no way they actually rented you for this long, but at least that means there’s nobody in line behind them.  You’ve picked up a fat lip, bite marks on your tits, bruises on your hips and thighs, an assortment of handprints on your ass, and splashes of semen on your breasts, face, hair and legs.  It would be trivial to mod your pod for resilience, but it’s common knowledge that a lot of the customers like leaving marks.  The boss is fucking you from behind, you make with the requisite moans while your muse obligingly damps the nerves in your cunt.  You’ll be sore enough later without actually feeling the bitch stretching you out.  You haven’t had to take anything up your ass yet, but the underlings look like they’re ready for another round, and you can only fit one in your mouth.

You end up sandwiched between the three of them, crammed with cock from all sides.  The underlings are filling your mouth and cunt while the boss plows your ass.  Their bioware claws and teeth dig into you, and whenever the ones behind you shift position you feel their dicks rubbing uncomfortably against one another through the layers of synthetic tissue separating your two orifices.  Clearly they aren’t as coordinated as a handful of Yakuza legbreakers ought to be, they have absolutely no rhythm and you’re constantly buffeted back and forth between their erratic thrusts.  You purr around your mouthful of cock, as if getting repeatedly jammed with sausage is something you look forward to.  The head honcho grabs a fistful of your hair and hauls your head back off the prick fucking your face.  You take the opportunity to snatch a gulp or two of air before henchman number one, not to be outdone, plants a fist in your face and pulls you back towards him.  The chief curses and pulls her fat dick out of your ass with an audible pop, before throwing herself at her competitor for your services.  They tangle together and tumble to the ground, you feel your eye swelling shut swelling as henchman number two disengages from your snatch to join them.

They’ve been preoccupied with each other for a good fifteen minutes now, you’ve been counting the seconds as you lay face down, listening to grunts, moans, and the wet sounds of dicks entering people that mercifully aren’t you.  Your hopes of lying there until they leave are dashed by a sharp kick to the stomach.  One of them shouts at you to get up and you have just enough energy to push yourself onto your knees, the three of them are standing around you jerking their gherkins.  Goon number two raises a fist and you quickly open your mouth in time to catch a spurt of cum.  Your eyes scrunch shut as ropey streams splatter your face, hair and chest.  The jets of spooge taper off and and you obediently swallow what landed in your mouth.  The boss laughs and puts a heel to your forehead, pushing you onto your back.  One of them gives you another foot in the ribs before leaving.  At least none of them felt like pissing on you.

The second they’re out the door you pick yourself up, aching everywhere, and stumble bowlegged to the showers.  You’re in dire need of a scrub with the hottest water available, and maybe if you’re lucky you can grab a nap before you have to fuck anyone else.  As the scalding water hits you, your muse obligingly dulls the pain in your lower body, puts on music and halfheartedly attempts to make conversation.  Two years to go, she repeats to you, you’re doing great and you only have two years to go.