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Hand-Me-Down

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"There's something you should know before you play with my toy," Bruce said calmly. He was sitting on the couch in Tony's bedroom, fully clothed, fingers twined in Tony's hair tight enough to make Tony's scalp hurt when they tensed. "It's a hand-me-down -- been used by a few too many people -- so some of the elastic's a bit loose. There's still plenty that you can do with it, though."

Clint nodded, glancing briefly at the naked man kneeling in front of them. "Mind if I take a look before we get started?"

"Be my guest," Bruce said. "Tony, down. Display yourself."

The cock-shaped gag in Tony's mouth prevented a verbal response, but he was better trained than that, anyway. He bent over in his kneeling position until his forehead rested on the floor, then raised up his ass so Clint had a good view of it. Sliding in two fingers from each hand without resistance, he pulled it open, letting Clint look into him, pink and glistening with lube.

"Nice," Clint said appreciatively. Without bothering to slick up his fingers -- Tony was plenty wet already -- he thrust three fingers into Tony's gaping hole, feeling around the inside edge until he found Tony's prostate. When he massaged it roughly with his fingers, Tony's ass twitched around him, but he still didn't tighten up. "Very nice. How much can it take?"

"I've run a few experiments," Bruce said. His eyes glittered with pleasure and good memories. "Right now, without further stretching, you can use your fist pretty easily. Two might take some patience, but it'll take them. I've jerked off a few times inside it; that's really fun, the way it adds a little extra pressure around my hand. Comfortable."

Clint smiled appreciatively, imagining the possibilities. "What about the other guy?"

Bruce laughed shortly. "He loves fucking our toy. Some days, I'll let it go all day without anything up its ass, just so that the other guy can open it back up again, good and tight. Once, the other guy decided that it wasn't enough for him, so he stuck one of those thick fingers in there along with his cock." The smile on Bruce's face got distant and pleased. "God, that was nice afterward. It kept begging me to let it just stay in the bathroom, because it couldn't stop itself from shitting without a plug, and I wanted to see that loose red hole. It's such a slut," he added fondly.

Clint glanced back down. Tony was still maintaining the same position, though his muscles trembled slightly with the effort. Clint lowered one finger in, like a game of Operation, poking at Tony's raw insides without touching anywhere around the edge. Drawing back his finger for a second, he flicked the walls of Tony's hole, watching them quiver in response. "Yeah, I'm gonna have fun playing with it. You wanted to stay and watch, right?"

"Oh yeah," Bruce nodded. "It'll be nice to see it make a mess of itself without getting me dirty in the process."

"Heh, I bet. It looks like it loves getting itself filthy."

"You have no idea. Sometimes I have it come into the bathroom with me so I can use it as a toilet and piss into it, and it gets so hard with my piss pouring back out of it. I've thought about getting it a cock cage to help it out, but I have to admit that it's more fun to teach it self-control."

"Mmmm," Clint nodded. "All right then, come on over." He hooked his fingers into Tony's asshole and dragged him half-crawling over to the bed, which had been fitted with rubber bedsheets for easier cleaning. "Up," he said, hauling Tony onto the bed with his slicked-up handhold.

Clint surveyed his toy, as well as the selection of supplemental toys that Bruce had spread on a bedside table. Then he glanced over to the other table nearby: Tony's private liquor cabinet. "So I'm thinking that what I really want is to fill it with one of those fancy liquors, get that thousand-dollar glass bottle nice and filthy. I don't want to damage your toy with broken glass, though, so I guess we'd better let it stretch out a bit first."

"If you want," Bruce shrugged. "It's so loose that it'll be fine either way, and it knows how to be careful. Once I took it to the lab with me, used it to hold my beakers. There were some pretty caustic chemicals in there, and it didn't spill a drop. It did get the floor a little wet, though -- after the first couple of hours in the same place, it kept crying. Almost as if it didn't want to be a good toy for me."

"Seems to be behaving pretty well now. I just don't like to damage other people's stuff, you know? Well, other people I like. Okay if I just do some good fist-fucking? I know you've got some nice toys over there, but I like hands-on play."

"It's yours to enjoy," Bruce said, nodding.

"Sweet. Okay, hands out of your ass. Grab onto that bedpost and don't let go; if you move, I'm gonna have to throw a few sticks of ginger in there or something." Tony followed the instructions immediately, and Clint decided to graciously overlook the fact that he paused to wipe the lube off his fingers along the way.

Cupping all five fingers together, Clint slid his hand straight into Tony's hole. Bruce was right; he felt a little snugness as Tony's body took him in, but no real tightness. Well, that would make things easier. When Clint's hand was buried past the wrist, he curled his fingers into a fist, then used the fist to thrust even deeper. The movement punched a soft cry out of Tony, but the sound was almost smothered in his cock gag, and Clint didn't let it slow him down. Instead, he fucked his fist back and forth inside Tony a few times, pushing in most of the way up his forearm.

Once Tony stopped twitching and whimpering quite as much, Clint pulled all the way out, feeling the stretched edges of Tony's asshole tug around his fist at the thickest point. Tony's thighs clenched involuntarily at the stretch, but Clint popped his fist out easily enough, then fucked it straight back in. After a couple of thrusts, he had a good rhythm of fist-fucking going, and he could see Tony's body quivering in place as he took every stroke without complaining. With Tony's ass raised up, Clint could see how hard Tony was, cock ruddy and glistening with pre-cum. He gave Tony's balls a sharp flick to remind them that Clint and Bruce hadn't even started to undress, so he wasn't going to be allowed to come for quite a while. With his other arm, he punctuated the sentiment by slamming his fist deep into Tony, knocking whatever breath he had out of him.

After a few more minutes of fist-fucking, Clint figured that Tony had gotten all the stretching he needed. He grabbed one of the larger butt plugs on the side table -- a solid rubber one, heavy and thick enough to be impossible to ignore -- and wiped the lube and filth off his arm and onto Tony's back, leaving it a streaked mess.

"Now for the hard part," he said, then grinned consideringly. "For me, anyway. Gotta pick something classy to shove up its ass." He opened up the liquor cabinet and pulled out some of the more expensive-looking bottles, gravitating toward the ones with textured glass or knobby shapes. "Any suggestions?" he asked his still-gagged toy.

Clint wasn't called Hawkeye for nothing. Even watching the way Tony's eyes lingered over the bottles, he could tell which ones were valuable, which ones were fond favorites, which ones made Tony nervous from shape and size alone. He finally settled on an Old Pulteney 21 single malt with a long, widening bulbous shape and a flare at the base to keep it in place. "Want any, Bruce?" he asked, enjoying the way Tony's eyes narrowed in a clear expression of "you Philistines are not going to appreciate that."

"No, thanks," Bruce replied, "but help yourself."

"Awesome." Clint opened up the bottle and poured himself a scant half-finger -- little enough to enjoy the taste without impairing his judgment. He took a sip, and yeah, it was good, in the not-quite-worth-the-price way of most single malts. "Mmm," he said in brief appreciation, then dipped his finger into the scotch that remained.

Clint pulled the butt plug back out of Tony, leaving his hole gaping open and twitching feebly, and slid his alcohol-damp fingertip around the rim. Tony yelped loudly into his gag, and Clint grinned. He dipped his finger in again and brought it back, tracing Tony's rim and hole with the alcohol and knowing how much it had to be burning the stretched-taut flesh. Finally, bored of the game, he tipped the last mouthful into his mouth, let the flavor settle into his tongue for a moment, and spit it into Tony's open hole. Tony tried to scream as his whole body convulsed, asshole clenching wildly but unable to close itself or to stop the sting of the alcohol, but his hands never left the bedframe, and his erection didn't flag for a moment. "You've got it well-trained," Clint said approvingly.

Setting aside the whisky glass, Clint picked up the bottle, resealed it, and slid a lubed condom down the top, covering up the corked opening. Clint didn't trust the condom to wrap around the full girth of the bottle without breaking, but he figured that Tony's fucked-open hole could handle it. "Think it'll take it all?" he asked Bruce.

Bruce grinned, a sharp-toothed grin that reminded Clint more of the Hulk. "If it can't take it, at least it'll be fun to watch it trying."

"You raise a very good point," Clint grinned back, and slid the whisky bottle into Tony's ass.

The first couple of bulges went in nice and smooth, with hardly any resistance, the lube of the condom and residual lube in Tony's ass slicking the way. Once Clint reached the end of the bottle's neck, though, the rounded body took some pressure -- even and steady, watching Tony's ass stretch and clutch and just take it, inch after inch, until his rim was obscenely wide and thin around the glass. "Almost there," he murmured, and he ran a thumb around the edge to soothe the distended skin. Then, with a final shove -- Clint knew those arm muscles would come in handy -- the bottle slipped into place.

"That," he observed, "is a damn sexy sight." The round, unrelenting glass of the bottle's base had Tony's ass stretched impossibly wide around it, skin so taut that it couldn't even clench or unclench. Between his trembling legs, Tony's cock was slick with dribbles of pre-cum, and his voice was whimpering uncontrollably into the gag.

"Right then. I'm just gonna let it sit with that for a little while. It's got other holes I can use." Clint unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his cock, but he didn't bother to undress any further. Climbing over to Tony's head, he unstrapped his gag, pulled the short silicone dick out of Tony's mouth, and thrust his own cock in its place.

Clint wasn't a huge guy, but he was sure as hell larger than the stubby gag. He felt Tony's throat clutch around him, half-choking, before Tony could relax his muscles deliberately. (Clint figured that the whiskey bottle plugging up his ass didn't help on the distractions front.) At that point, though, Clint went to town, grabbing Tony's hair and fucking his face hard. Tony's mouth felt damn good around Clint, slick and warm and tight in the way that Tony's ass was too broken to manage any more, and Clint enjoyed it thoroughly.

A few times, he paused his rhythm, sliding in so deep that Tony's nose was pressed to his hips, then holding his cock in Tony's throat until Tony trembled for air. "So good," he murmured, appreciating the way that Tony kept his suction steady even when he was gasping for oxygen.

Clint had planned to stop before he came, so that he could jack himself off into Tony's hole, but when he looked up, Bruce's eyes were dark and half-glowing green. Clint raised his eyebrows. "Other guy wants to take a turn?"

Bruce shrugged. "What can I say; you make a pretty picture. I bet it'd feel good to use the toy's mouth while he fucked its hole."

"I'm game if you are," Clint said. Instead of responding verbally, Bruce just stood up, stripping off his clothes even as his skin turned green and his muscles began to bulge, and Jesus Christ, Hulk may have been "only" nine feet tall, but apparently his cock was proportionate to his even-more-huge muscles. A normal human would've needed two hands just to jerk him off.

Clint pulled out of Tony for a moment, tugging the whisky bottle out of Tony and leaving his hole gaping open again. (He figured that Hulk's fondness for smashing things meant that handling glass was a bad idea.) "All yours, Jade Jaws."

"HULK LIKE TOY," he said, grabbing Tony's hips and shoving his cock straight in without hesitation. (Clint could feel Tony's wince, but the toy didn't say a word.) "TOY GOOD SIZE FOR HULK. TOY FEEL GOOD."

"Fuck yeah, he does," Clint agreed. He thrust back into Tony's mouth, but he quickly discovered that no movement was necessary; the Hulk cradled Tony's ass in his wide hands, pumping him up and down on his cock like a giant sex toy, a warm tube for the Hulk to jack off into. This left Tony's mouth working up and down Clint, too distracted to use as much finesse, but still slick and tight and needy.

Before long, slick and tight was more than enough. Clint pulled out of Tony's mouth just before coming, pumping his cum all over Tony's face in thick white strands that Tony lapped up with his tongue. Then, as Clint sprawled back against the headboard, he watched Hulk speed up his thrusts; Tony was literally up in the air now, pumped up and down in Hulk's hands to take the giant green cock so deep that Clint swore he could see a shadow of a bulge distorting Tony's stomach. Finally, Hulk came into Tony's ass with a roar, then leaned back, panted a few times, and shrank back into a naked and still-panting Bruce.

Clint moved back to join Bruce behind Tony's ass. Thick pale-green cum dripped out of it onto the bed, unhindered by the twitching muscles of his rim. Tony was still desperately, painfully hard, and Clint played with some of the cum still pooled inside him, swirling it around Tony's swollen pink rectal walls. "It's been a very good toy. How do you like to reward it?"

"Don't worry, it isn't picky. Just be sure to fill it up well; wouldn't want things to tighten up." Bruce wiped himself off and returned to the chair to watch.

"Of course not," Clint agreed. He pushed his fist back into Tony, not bothering to ease the way in; he could barely feel the tired muscles of Tony's ass fluttering around him at all. This time, he just slid straight in as far as he could go, almost up to the elbow, and let his arm rest there while his other hand wrapped around Tony's dick.

Tony was soaked, sticky-salty with sweat and cum and pre-cum, and his body arched taut as a bow at Clint's touch on his cock. "Well then," Clint smiled to himself. "Won't take much to make it come." He rocked his arm back and forth inside Tony, enjoying the rush power of being inside his body so deep, animating him like a puppet. His other hand glided over Tony's cock with light, quick strokes, so soft that he could see Tony gritting his teeth at the teasing. But Clint had learned to be patient. He simply kept stroking, up and down, deliberately slow, until Tony let out an inarticulate scream and came, long and hard, clenching around Clint's arm and spilling gobs of fluid all over Clint's hand.

Finally, Tony let himself fall down onto the bed. Clint extracted his arm from Tony's ass, wiping himself clean again on his back, and slid the butt plug from earlier back into place. (He tried to leave borrowed toys in the same condition that he got them, after all.) Then he soothed Tony gently, stroking his still-trembling shoulders.

When Clint looked up, Bruce was standing beside them with a glass of water and an overwhelmingly tender expression. "I'll take it from here," he said, and Clint nodded and moved out of the way.

He was almost at the door when Bruce called back to him. "Any time you want to play again, let me know. I've been thinking of making it a regular open house kind of thing -- come over, use Tony's hole for whatever you want. I bet he'd love to be filled up like a water bottle with his teammates' cum."

"Team bonding," Clint nodded, visualizing it. "I like the idea."

He could already imagine the possibilities for golf balls and target practice.