The annual inspection of the dormitory 'service stations' was today. Each of us was assigned a number and a position. My station was the communal shower stall, on my knees, mouth open. The inspectors—trustees of the academy—didn't just look. They tested. They gauged the depth of my throat, the stamina of my jaw, the willingness of my gag reflex to be overridden. One after another, they used my face, their cocks sliding over the fresh brand on my pelvis as they fucked my mouth. The goal wasn't pleasure for them; it was endurance for me. To remain a wet, warm, open hole until the last drop of cum was down my throat and the last man had zipped his pants. The highest grade goes to the unit who can swallow the most without a single tear. I'm aiming for valedictorian. #LivingFurniture #StressTested (Mood: determined)