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My first bath house was in 1980 In San Francisco the entrance was off an alley think it was called the bulldog

Chapter 8 - Recruitment incentives "Lewis runs that adult bookstore back there. He'd been telling me Kyle had lost it but I didn't know how much till today. Planned on him training you up a little but fuck that. You'll have to come over at two tomorrow. Spice still got most of their fucking brains working. Can give you an idea of what's expected. Meanwhile if Kyle ain't no use to me or Lewis then it's time I moved him on." The older man seemed absolutely unconcerned that he was telling Jordyn all of this. The young fag instinctively knew why. This was a man whose supremacy was obvious and undeniable. You didn't tell tales on men like this. You also didn't deny men like this - anything. Jordyn felt the fear rising within him now. All that he knew about this man was the name he had chosen to tell him and the fact that he loved to really fuck up dumb little fags. Dumb little fags like Jordan - sorry Jordyn - himself. He knew all that but he had still handed over his I.D. He knew all that but he had still got into this man's car. Now he was going he didn't know where to do he didn't know what. There was one more thing he knew about this man. Jerome had read the post he had made on the BZ. The one he had poured his whole heart and soul, his every deepest most hidden desire, into. The one where he had begged a man to take charge of him and to ruin him - totally and without mercy. It was what he wanted - he knew that. However, he knew he might be really close to getting just what he had asked for and it scared him. Had him almost shaking in his seat, a blatant proof of his weakness. Just more evidence that he could never be a real man like Jerome. His mind had been racing but his eyes had also been taking in the view through the windows of the Lexus. It wasn't any sort of reassurance. Going to the store he had thought all of his parents' terrible stories about the city were exaggerated. Now he wasn't so sure. They had passed block after block of project housing, seen the gang tags on every available surface, passed little groups of young African-American men on the corners. This had to be what they called the 'ghetto' and Jordyn felt horribly out of his element here. The man beside him laughed his low mirthless laugh. "Feeling nervous boy? "Yes sir," admitted Jordyn. "You should be," flatly confirmed the man who called himself Jerome, "but while you're with me no-one else is gonna fuck you up. I'm known around here." There was lot of emphasis on that 'known'. That one word just sent another burst of thrill and fear through Jordyn. He was so far out of his comfort zone, so hopelessly out of his depth, that it felt crazy. Every fleeting thought, every ragged breath, had a weight and a meaning that they had never had before. He felt so - alive - with this man. The misery and boredom of living at home, of growing up under the eye of his parents, of having to be who others wanted him to be. That was all gone - all left two-dimensional and monochrome by the sensations rushing through him now. The adrenaline enriching his bloodstream hit him as never before. It was so dangerous, so frightening, so intense, yet he knew that he wanted more, that he needed more. After experiencing this he couldn't go back to who he had tried to be, to living that shadow life. He had to be the real him, Jordyn aka BoiFagBarbie. The buildings they passed now were largely derelict row-houses, their doors and windows sealed with metal shutters. Here and there he saw that a residence had been burned out. A couple of blocks of such unpopulated desolation and then the car turned and slowed as it entered a street where Jordyn did again see people. At intervals there were women in ones and twos. Their dress and attitude didn't leave much doubt even in Jordyn's mind as to who they were. They were all either African-American or Latina and they were street hookers. About the lowest of the low so far as society, especially his parents, were concerned. Jordyn tried not to stare but noticed one thing. The women dropped their exaggeratedly seductive struts and smiles when they recognised the vehicle. They knew the driver and knew he wasn't a john. Jerome chuckled and for the first time seemed genuinely amused. "You got eyes like fucking saucers fagboy. You'll soon learn. Every world has its rules. The girls here and the white girls a street over and the rent boys in the connecting street. They all here so they can do their thing - keep out of the way of the regular folk. City leaves them be so long as they stay invisible. Just a raid now and then, a night in the cells and a fine maybe, just to keep up appearances like." The Lexus took a turn into the connecting street and sure enough there were young men. Jerome laughed again. "A whole different world here. The girls, the rent boys, the trans hookers - all got their own places and their own codes. Ain't much unites them except looking down on Fountains. Which is where we are about to be." The vehicle made a last turn This was a smaller, shorter, street and there were fewer hookers plying their trade but true to Jerome's words they were all of a type. Not quite like the trans street-walkers they had passed. These were clearly young men under their make-up and despite sometimes wearing feminine clothes. The Lexus pulled to a halt and on cue a shadow seemed to emerge from an unlit corner. It was a man in his early fifties, unless a hard life had aged him prematurely. He looked out of place among the simpering pretty boys but Jordyn still instinctively knew that Fountains was this man's world. "Jerome - it's been a while." The man's voice had the same rasping quality as that of Jerome himself, the result no doubt of decades of cigarettes. Like Jerome he was also thin almost skinny, but with an obvious toughness about him. Otherwise there were distinct differences between the two men. Jerome was a proud lion, the obvious apex of his ecosystem. This man looked more sly, more feral, he was unimaginable outside of these decaying city streets. He was African-American but with a lighter skin-tone than that of Jerome. "But we both still here Wolf my man. Business good?" Wolf shrugged expressively. "Not so bad but I'm guessing if you here that means you wanting a favor yeah?" The words were spoken without accusation or annoyance. It was crystal clear that these two men had known each other very well for a long time. Wolf led the way as the Lexus pulled off the street and into a barely lit space behind a derelict rowhouse. If the porn store's back lot had seemed out of sight then this place was truly invisible. Out of sight and out of mind - just like Jerome had suggested. The driver signalled to Jordyn to stay put as he himself got out of his car to talk to his friend. "You know Kyle, been with Lewis, I'm looking to find him a new place." Wolf spat expressively onto the floor and lit a fresh cigarette. "What the fuck man. You don't think I got enough fucking tweakers. A couple of years back I could have done something with him but his fucking brains are mush. Put him in one of my places and he'll cause trouble. Send him escorting and he'll lose me customers." Jerome lit his own cigarette. "How long you been in this business? You know that little fag real well behaved so long as he got a cock in his hole or the prospect of one. Maybe no good for escorting but he can work here and you can keep him at it long hours. Boy on the street ain't causing no trouble at home." "Little fucker wouldn't last long. Maybe a couple of years if he's lucky." Wolf looked hard at Jerome, even in the darkness his black eyes were intense. Jerome gave an expressive shrug and sheltered as his upbringing had been Jordyn understood that shrug. Jerome and Lewis were done with the boy - once with Wolf he wasn't their concern or even of interest to them. Jordyn felt a little shiver run right through him at just how casually that shrug had been delivered. Wolf snorted, blowing a long plume of smoke into the night air. "Even so..." Jerome smiled a knowing smile. "Yeah like you'd turn down two year's clear profit on that hole. But I'll play the game. I got a little incentive for you. Got plans for a breaking-in party." He tapped on the hood of his car and gestured to Jordyn. Jordyn's legs felt shaky as he got out of the car and felt Wolf's attention turn onto him. He was only a couple of inches taller than Jordyn himself but the pimp's eyes shared the commanding power of Jerome's and those eyes were checking him out. "This is Jordyn. You gonna lie to me and tell me you ain't interested?" Wolf paused and drew cigarette smoke deep into his lungs. "Cute little fucker for sure but he looks a little basic, a little vanilla. He know what he's getting into? He know what we do to cute little fuckers like him?" "Tell him what you want Jordyn." That cold smile was back on Jerome's face now, the smile of assured domination. Jordyn tried to summon up some saliva into his dry mouth. "I want you and your friends to fuck me, to ruin me, to wreck my tight little hole and make the world understand who I really am." Well he surely had Wolf's interest now. The older man moved up close to Jordyn. He clicked his fingers. Jerome laughed. "He ain't trained yet." "Well it's time he fucking started," growled Wolf. "On your knees faggot." Jordyn got down on his knees in front of a much older Black man for the second time that evening. He tentatively reached for Wolf's pants. Wolf's hand cuffed him on the back of the head. Not very hard but surely enough to feel it. "Hands behind your back you dumb fag." Jordyn obeyed, his head still ringing a little. "I click my fingers you get in that position. Understood? Fuck up and you know what happens. I been in this game a while. I know how to not leave visible marks and if you lose a few thousand brain cells what the fuck does that matter. You only need to know how to look pretty, suck, fuck and take cum. That right?" "Yes sir," responded Jordyn. Wolf eased down his pants and shorts, just enough to release his cock. It was almost a match for Jerome's. Long and thick and potent with masculine power. "What you waiting for?" Just like that, as if it was nothing, Jordyn opened his mouth and took that Big Black Cock inside. His first time sucking cock. It should have been a big moment, a turning point in his life. Instead it just felt natural and inevitable. When a boy like Jordyn was with men like Jerome and Wolf then he was going to end up sucking cock, he was going to end up doing a lot more than just sucking cock. It was just the way things were. He'd imagined doing it a thousand times and now he tried to do his best. Tried to conjure up more spittle to make it good and wet for his man. "Watch them fucking teeth," growled Wolf, "or I'll knock them out of your head." "So you interested in helping ruin his tight little fag cunt?" That was Jerome Jordyn didn't hear the answer but he didn't need to. All his concentration was focused on sucking that beautiful Black cock. He felt like he had been made for this, that this was why he had been put on Earth. To give pleasure to men like Wolf and Jerome. He felt a hand on the back of his head. Not cuffing him this time but just holding him, a gesture of possession, of control. Fuck but he loved that! Jerome spoke again. "Best thing about little femboy faggots is what real men's cum does to them. Every drop they swallows just frazzles their fucking brain cells a little bit more. Every bit of hesitation, every bit of doubt, every bit of free will - all burned out by that special seed. Till he's had so much he's just a mindless little faggot, just holes for men to fuck and breed." As Jerome spoke Wolf took Jordyn's head in both hands and began to pump his hard shaft deep into the younger man's mouth. Jordyn wanted to bring his hands up from behind his back but he fought not to. Tried to relax and stop himself choking on all that meat in his mouth. Rode the experience until Wolf's fingers tightened in Jordyn's hair and pulses of thick cum shot into his mouth and over his tongue. Again he tried to keep himself in the zone, to ignore the unfamiliar taste of the man's cum in his mouth, to avoid gagging or choking. As Wolf stepped back Jordyn finally had to surrender to his need to cough. He quickly pulled a hand up to cover his mouth as he did so. Making sure he didn't lose any of that potent cum. "That's it boy - don't let none go to waste. You need to swallow all that cum if you gonna be a mindless little faggot fuckhole. Thass right aint it?" Jordyn looked up at Jerome and for the first time noticed the phone in his hand. The man was filming him but Jordyn found he only hoped he had put on a good show. It came naturally to him to open his mouth for the camera and let it see the heavy load of cum there. Then to carefully, very carefully, close his mouth and swallow it all down. He couldn't help smiling as he then reopened his mouth to show Jerome and his camera that it was empty now. "Little fucker has potential," said Wolf tucking his cock away. "So you'll take Kyle and help break this one in. Be like old times. Double-teaming a dumb little cunt like BoiFagBarbie here." Wolf laughed and nodded before turning and heading back to his patch. Soon they were once more in the Lexus and headed back through the streets. Back to normal life which for Jordyn now was the parking lot of a porn store. He was lost in his own thoughts, processing all that had happened, Jerome only spoke as they arrived. "You done OK for a dumb sissy fag. Be back here at two tomorrow." He was supposed to be in college tomorrow afternoon but Jordyn knew that he would be skipping classes. He knew what was important and where he needed to be

12. Friends older brother in his 20s. I was his cock slut for years

I use a microfiber cumrag in my undies...very soft, very absorbent.

Just getting in from taking my partners best friends poz cock for 4 hours and 3 other anon guys he pimped me out to. Some blank profile hit me up on sniffies on my way home so I of course met him at the cruising spot near by and took him raw. 8 loads in total,gonna wake the clueless dicklet bf up by riding him and slopping up his cock before he "accidentally" slips out of my slack, used up community cunt right before he cums and gets a nice ruined orgasm. At least he helped his friend out 🤣

I was once owned by An Indian guy in Antwerp, he was working in diamonds, and sold my ass to some of his friends, some of them where Ugly, but they fucked me good, sadly he returned tot Dehli

My coffee ☕ cup. My tea. My hand then into my mouth. Directly into my mouth. Self suck style.

Hi all! I use rectal suppositories called Lecicarbon that are used if you have constipation. You can just buy them in pharmacies and they really work. After around 10 min. you need a toilet- and are clean. You can use another one to be super clean. They are cheap, around 1€ each. Try to search online with these ingredients. Hope they do not only have it here in Central Europe but also all over the world for you pigs. Have fun Wirkstoffe 540 mg Natriumhydrogencarbonat 900 mg Kalium hydrogentartrat

I have always preferred random or anonymous breedings. The way it makes me feel like I’m only a hole to be a cum reciprocal. Either being in a bathhouse face down and ass up. Or backing up on a glory hole. I just love getting my poz hole filled. Any poz guys in the NYC area. Text me. 973 997 4934 If you want to breed me.

The morning sun was just beginning to cast long shadows across the quiet suburban street as Ethan, nineteen and still clinging to the soft edges of boyhood, finished his paper route. He was a picture of youthful innocence—wide blue eyes, a smattering of freckles across his nose, and a lanky frame that suggested he hadn't quite grown into his own hands and feet. His last stop was always the old Miller place at the end of the cul-de-sac, a dark, imposing Victorian that seemed to absorb the light around it. The customer, Mr. Miller, was different from the others. He was a man in his late forties with a magnetic, almost predatory charm. He always answered the door in a silk robe, his eyes lingering on Ethan a little too long. Today was no exception. "Running a bit late today, Ethan," Mr. Miller said, his voice a low, smooth rumble. "Come in for a moment. I have your payment, and I brewed some fresh coffee. You look like you could use a break." Ethan hesitated, his innate shyness warring with his ingrained politeness. "Oh, I shouldn't, sir. I have to get home." "Nonsense," Mr. Miller insisted, stepping aside and gesturing with a fluid motion of his hand. "It'll only take a minute." The house was cool and dim, smelling of old books, expensive cologne, and something else... something sterile and medicinal. Ethan followed him into the kitchen, where a steaming mug of black coffee sat on the counter. "Drink up," Mr. Miller said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. Ethan took a hesitant sip. It was bitter, stronger than he liked, but he didn't want to be rude. He forced a few more swallows, the liquid burning a trail down to his stomach. A strange warmth began to spread through his limbs, a pleasant fuzziness that softened the sharp edges of his anxiety. "You know, Ethan," Mr. Miller began, leaning against the counter opposite him, "I've been watching you. You're a hard-working young man. Responsible." He circled slowly around Ethan, his presence overwhelming. "But you're also... untested. Untouched." Ethan's head was swimming. The room felt like it was tilting slightly. "I... I don't know what you mean." "I think you do," Mr. Miller whispered, his breath hot against Ethan's ear. He placed a hand on the small of Ethan's back, a firm, possessive touch that made the boy flinch. "All that innocence... it's a waste. It's begging to be broken." The drug was taking full effect now, a potent cocktail that dulled Ethan's will and amplified his senses. He felt a confusing mix of terror and a strange, illicit thrill. Mr. Miller's hands were on his hips, guiding him, leading him out of the kitchen and down a flight of wooden stairs into the basement. The basement was not what Ethan expected. It was finished, but starkly. A single bare bulb hung from the ceiling, illuminating a mattress on the floor and, in the corner, a tripod with a small, unblinking red light. "Don't be shy, boy," Mr. Miller murmured, his voice thick with desire. He began to unbutton Ethan's shirt, his fingers surprisingly gentle. "We're just going to... broaden your horizons." Ethan's mind was a fog, but he knew this was wrong. He tried to protest, to push the man's hands away, but his arms felt like lead. His words came out as a slurred mumble. Mr. Miller chuckled, a low, dark sound. "The camera loves a struggler, but it loves consent even more." He positioned Ethan in front of the lens. "Look into the camera, Ethan. Tell them what you want." Through the haze, Ethan felt a profound, humiliating sense of surrender. The words that came out of his mouth weren't his own, but they felt true in that drugged, manipulated moment. "Please," he heard himself beg, his voice cracking. "Please... fuck me. I want it." Mr. Miller smiled in triumph. He stripped Ethan efficiently, exposing his pale, untouched body to the camera's gaze. He positioned the trembling boy on his hands and knees on the mattress. The first touch of the man's fingers, slick with cold lube, made Ethan cry out—a sound of pain and a strange, unwelcome spark of pleasure. The cherry busting was brutal. Mr. Miller showed no mercy, his grip tight on Ethan's hips as he forced his way inside. Ethan screamed, a raw, ragged sound that was swallowed by the basement's oppressive silence. Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the sweat on his brow. Through it all, the camera recorded everything—the initial shock of pain, the humiliated grimaces, the broken sobs, and, to Ethan's eternal shame, the moments his drugged body betrayed him, arching back to meet the thrusts. He begged for more, just as he'd been told to do, his voice a pathetic, pleading whine that echoed his complete and total defilement. Weeks later, the memory was a nightmare he tried to bury. He'd quit his paper route, avoided the street, and tried to pretend it never happened. But the internet is a permanent archive. One night, on a whim, he typed his own name into a search engine. Buried in the results was a link to a video on a seedy amateur site. His heart hammered against his ribs as he clicked it. There he was. Larger than life, on the screen. The video quality was shockingly clear. He watched himself, looking young and terrified, beg to be fucked. He watched his own face contort in pain and humiliation as Mr. Miller took him. The audio was pristine—every whimper, every sob, every degrading plea he'd been forced to utter was captured for the world to hear. The title of the video was "Innocent Paperboy Begs for His First Load and HIV+ Breeding." A cold dread washed over him. HIV+. The word slammed into him with the force of a physical blow. He remembered the man's guttural whisper as he'd finished deep inside him: "Take my gift, boy. Take it all." The comments below the video were a cesspool of depraved praise. Users praised his "enthusiasm," his "natural submissiveness." They called him a "faggot cumdump" and a "cherry-popping slut." They marveled at how he "begged for the poz load." Ethan slammed his laptop shut, but the images were seared into his mind. He ran to the bathroom and threw up until his stomach was empty, his body wracked with violent, shuddering sobs. His innocence wasn't just gone; it had been packaged, sold, and used as a spectacle for the world's most depraved. He had been drugged, raped, and infected, and his own violated voice had been used to convict him in the court of public opinion. The boy who had delivered papers was gone, replaced by a ghost in a basement video, forever begging for a poison he never knew he was receiving. 1%

Oddly enough, I just saw a YouTube video on the A-Ball today. The vid goes into a lot of detail, including a colonoscopy showing the ball working (it's the inventor's hole btw). It appears they are based in the UK. Sorry, I don't have a link. I thought it was interesting.

[think before following links] https://www.lairdhotel.com/accommodation.php

I wondered for a moment if there was going to be a conversation about what the biotat meant... maybe the new group will provide that clarity, and in doing so, set him free or set him on his quest?? I look forward to seeing what @rp666 has in store for our charachter 😈

Great writing and I am looking forward to the next part of Jordan's (ahem), Jordyn's breaking!

I'm really pleased to see that Dan didn't give in, and I cannot wait for the chapters to come explaining Dan's path to becoming pregnant... will it be short or long, and then what?? As ever, @mancoco has the answers!

My owners allow it so I obey and anyone, regardless of what I think, is free to empty their loads in me.

Keep up the fight Dan, one more night to go

So I have trained myself and now have no gag reflex. The key is to learn to control your body’s automatic response to having something jammed down your throat! First you need to increase your ability to hold your breath for extended periods of time. You can do this in several ways but I recommend just doing regular breathing exercises to expand your lung capacity. If you over oxygenate your body, you can go without oxygen for a long time. Then you need to get comfortable breathing exclusively through your nose, so you can breathe with your mouth full. Personally I love to use a little blow to numb my throat which makes it that much easier to throat a big dick deep for a long time without any problems. it should be said that some tops like it when you gag and choke on them - I know one who legit wants me to throw up lol - but in my decades of experience they all appreciate a sucker who is enthusiastic about getting it all down their throat and has developed their skills to be able to handle even the biggest of dicks

Winston Mississippi…but love nasty chat and pics with anyone 601-357–2935 Snapchat winstonroark BBC to the front of the line but no load refused.