"Alright, alright, settle down you beautiful sluts," Corey announced. "I'm about to pick the lucky winners. And I've got good news and better news."
The remaining fans leaned forward, a ripple of excited murmurs passing through them.
"The good news is I'm not picking five. I'm picking ten lucky winners tonight." Corey paused, letting the eruption of cheers and gasps wash over him. His grin stretched impossibly wider. "But I wanted to make this special. Really special. So I'm bringing out the main event."
He reached off to the side and grabbed Kota's wrist, yanking him forward infront of the line, Kota stumbled slightly, still half hard in his slacks, the interruption from earlier leaving him frustrated and unfulfilled. His broad shoulders and tall frame cut an imposing figure next to Corey's lean, plump assed silhouette.
"This," Corey announced, gesturing at Kota like he was presenting a grand prize, "is Kota. And he is the only person on the entire planet with a penis over three inches. His cock is eight point nine inches long. I've measured it. With my throat."
The crowd went absolutely silent for three full seconds. Then they exploded. Femboys near the front gripped the barricade so hard their knuckles went white. Someone let out a high pitched, desperate moan that echoed through the half empty room. Another fan actually dropped to his knees right there on the sticky floor, hands clasped together like he was praying.
"Eight point nine inches?! That's not possible! That's a myth! That's like pre Vanishing porn star levels!"
"I want it. I want it so bad. I don't even care if it splits me in half. Let it split me in half."
"Holy shit, look at the bulge. Even soft it's huge. I can see the outline from here."
"Please pick me. Please please please. I've been good all year. I've been edging for a week."
"Ten winners get to fuck THAT?"
Corey basked in the chaos, one arm draped possessively around Kota's waist.
"You heard them, big man. They want the monster."
He turned back to the crowd and pointed at Mort, who was standing rigid near the amps with his arms crossed. "But since there's still some of you who won't get picked, my feisty little bandmate Mort here will take care of the rest of you. He's going to be a good boy and handle crowd control."
Mort's death stare could have melted steel. "I am not a good boy. I am not handling anything. And if any of you touch me without permission I will bite your dicks off."
About a dozen femboys immediately swooned.
Corey laughed and began pointing into the crowd, selecting fans at random.
"You. The one with the fishnets. You. Blondie in the back who's been crying since we walked on stage. You. The one who screamed 'breed me' during Gideon's solo. You. The one with the handcuffs already out, I like your enthusiasm. You. The short one who keeps lifting his shirt to show his abs. You. The one with the rainbow pasties. You. The one who threw your panties at Toby earlier. You. The one making eye contact with Mort right now, you're very brave. And you. The one who's already hard just from listening to me talk."
The ten selected femboys practically climbed over each other to scramble toward the hall. They were a diverse mix, tall ones, short ones, some with neon hair and piercings, others softer and more shy, but all of them shared the same hungry, desperate expression.
Their asses bounced and jiggled as they hurried after Corey, who was already dragging Kota toward the dressing room with Toby's wrist clutched in his other hand.
Mort watched them go with a long, exhausted sigh. Then he turned to the remaining ten or so fans who hadn't been picked and cracked his knuckles.
"Alright, listen up. You're with me. Rules are simple. No kissing on the mouth, no sudden movements, and if you make me uncomfortable I will end you. Questions?"
One femboy raised a trembling hand. "Can we still call you daddy?"
Mort's eye twitched. "...fine."
The dressing room door slammed shut behind Corey, Kota, Toby, and the ten lucky winners. The space was already cramped, the ratty couch pushed against one wall, the mirror lights casting everything in a warm, cheap glow. The air immediately thickened with the scent of sweat, cheap cologne, and collective arousal.
Corey released Kota and Toby, then turned to face the group with a flourish. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his baggy gray jeans and shoved them down in one smooth motion, stepping out of them completely. His plump, pale ass was on full display, the cheeks bouncing as he kicked the jeans aside. His tiny cocklet was already hard and leaking, standing at attention between his spread thighs.
"Alright, my beautiful sluts," Corey announced, spreading his arms wide like a conductor about to lead an orchestra.
"The first appetizer of the night is going to be Toby. Our sweet, soft, nervous little drummer. He's been such a good boy on stage tonight and I think he deserves some special attention. Don't you?"
The ten femboys turned as one to look at Toby, who was standing near the door with his ginger hair falling in messy waves around his suddenly very pale face. His freckles stood out sharply against his skin. His plump ass pressed back against the door like he was trying to merge with it.
"Corey," Toby squeaked, voice cracking. "Corey, I didn't agree to ten people at once. I thought it was going to be one at a time. In private. With breaks in between. I can't do ten. That's too many. That's so many hands. Corey please—"
But the ten femboys were already moving. They surrounded Toby in a tightening circle, their bodies pressing close, their hands reaching out to touch his soft, curvy frame. Toby's protests dissolved into a shaky whimper as the first pair of hands found his waist.
"Look at this soft little thing," one femboy purred, a tall blond with glitter smeared across his cheekbones. His fingers slid under the hem of Toby's shirt, stroking the warm, plush skin of his belly. "You're even cuter up close. All those videos you post don't do you justice."
Another femboy, shorter with a shaved head and a lip ring, pressed against Toby's back. His hands came around to cup the drummer's soft chest, thumbs finding his nipples through the thin fabric of his shirt. He rolled them gently, then harder, pinching until Toby gasped and arched into the touch.
"Has he been a bad boy tonight? Tell us, Toby. Have you been misbehaving?"
Toby shook his head frantically, ginger hair flying. "No, no, I've been good. I've been so good. I played the whole set perfectly. I didn't mess up a single fill. I was a good boy all day. I promise."
A third femboy, this one with bright pink pigtails and glossy lips, knelt in front of Toby and started working his tight black leggings down over the swell of his hips. The fabric peeled away slowly, revealing inch after inch of soft, pale thigh, the curve of his plump ass, the tiny cocklet already stiff and leaking against his stomach.
"I don't think you've been good at all," the pink haired femboy murmured, breath hot against Toby's inner thigh.
"I think you've been a very bad boy. You were up on that stage, bouncing on your drum stool, shaking this fat ass for the whole crowd to see. You knew exactly what you were doing. You were teasing us."
Toby moaned as his leggings were yanked down to his ankles, leaving him completely exposed from the waist down. His cocklet twitched and bobbed, a clear bead of precum dripping onto the floor.
"I wasn't teasing. I was just drumming. The stool makes me bounce. I can't help it."
"Sure you can't," the blond femboy whispered directly into Toby's ear, his tongue flicking out to trace the shell of it.
His hands were still working Toby's nipples, twisting and pulling in a steady rhythm that made the drummer's hips jerk forward.
"You just happened to wear those tight little leggings that show every single jiggle. You just happened to moan into the mic every time Corey looked at you. You were asking for this, Toby. You were begging the whole crowd to come back here and use you."
The femboy with the lip ring slid his hand down Toby's bare back, fingers tracing the cleft of his ass before dipping lower. He found Toby's hole, already slightly slick from the earlier dildo session in the van, and circled it with one teasing fingertip.
"He's so wet already. Someone's been playing with himself before the show."
"He was bouncing on a dildo in the van," Corey supplied helpfully from his spot near the couch, where he was slowly stroking Kota's thick cock through his slacks. "Mort took it away from him. He's been empty and needy all night."
The pink haired femboy grinned against Toby's thigh. "Empty and needy. Such a bad boy, getting himself all worked up when he should have been focusing on his performance."
He pressed a soft, wet kiss to the sensitive skin just below Toby's balls, making the drummer whimper.
"I'm not bad. I'm good. I'm a good boy. I did everything right. I played all the songs. I didn't forget any of the fills. I was good."
Toby's voice was cracking, his protests growing weaker as the hands roamed his body. The blond was still working his nipples, the lip ring femboy was still circling his hole, and now a fourth fan had stepped forward, a tall, slender femboy with dark skin and silver chains around his neck. He wrapped his hand around Toby's leaking cocklet and stroked slowly, thumb smearing precum over the sensitive head.
"You were such a good boy on stage," the silver chained femboy agreed, his voice low and smooth.
"But being a good boy on stage means you were a bad boy off stage. You were distracting everyone. Making everyone hard. All those pretty fills and tight paradiddles got people horny, Toby. That's a crime. You owe us compensation."
The remaining femboys crowded closer, their hands joining the others. Fingers traced Toby's collarbones, squeezed the soft flesh of his hips, kneaded the plump cheeks of his ass. Someone leaned in and bit gently at his earlobe. Someone else dragged their nails lightly down his spine, making him shiver and moan. The lip ring femboy finally pushed one finger inside Toby's slick hole, burying it to the knuckle with a wet, obscene squelch.
"Ahhh—fuck—that's—that's more than one finger—I can't—"
"You can," the lip ring femboy murmured, adding a second finger and scissoring them slowly. "You're so tight, Toby. So warm. You've been empty all night. We're going to fill you up."
"Tell us you've been a bad boy," the blond femboy demanded, pinching Toby's nipples hard. "Say it. Say 'I've been a bad boy and I need to be punished.'"
Toby shook his head, but his hips were rocking back onto the fingers inside him, his cocklet leaking steadily into the silver chained femboy's grip.
"I can't. I'm good. I've been good all day. I was a good boy for Kota. I was a good boy on stage."
"You were a tease on stage," the pink haired femboy corrected, nipping at Toby's inner thigh.
"You were a filthy little cock tease, shaking that fat ass for everyone to see. Making all these nice fans go home with hard ons and no relief. You think that's being good?"
"He's been very naughty," the tall blond agreed, his tongue tracing the curve of Toby's ear. "He needs to be punished. Spanked. Fingered open. Made to apologize to every single fan in this room for being such a tempting little slut."
The lip ring femboy added a third finger, pumping them in and out of Toby's stretched hole with wet, rhythmic squelches. Toby's moans grew louder, his head falling back against the door. His freckled chest heaved with each ragged breath.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being a tease. I didn't mean to make everyone hard. I just wanted to drum good."
"That's 'drum well,' sweetheart," the silver chained femboy corrected, stroking Toby's cocklet faster. "And we forgive you. But you still need to be punished."
The blond femboy delivered a sharp, stinging slap to Toby's plump ass, the crack echoing through the dressing room. Toby yelped and bucked forward, driving the fingers deeper inside him. Another slap landed on the other cheek, then another, the femboys taking turns spanking the soft, jiggling flesh until it glowed pink.
"Count them," the lip ring femboy demanded, curling his fingers to hit Toby's prostate. "Count every spanking. And after each one, say 'thank you for punishing me.'"
"One—ahh—thank you for punishing me. Two—fuck—thank you for punishing me. Three—please—thank you for punishing me."
Toby's voice was high and broken, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as the slaps kept coming and the fingers kept pumping and the hand on his cock kept stroking. His body was a live wire, every nerve ending firing at once.
The other femboys watched with hungry eyes, some stroking themselves through their clothes, others whispering filthy encouragement to Toby as he was ravaged.
"Look at him take it. Such a good little slut. His hole is swallowing those fingers. He's going to look so pretty stretched around Kota's cock."
Kota watched from the couch, his own cock fully hard and leaking in his hand as he stroked slowly. The sight of Toby surrounded, groped, fingered, spanked, and praised was doing things to him. His hyperspermia was under control for now, but the heat in his gut was building again, the familiar pressure coiling low and heavy.