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Fuck yeah. It’s so hot and beautiful. What an unison of moanings can be heard there. I already was in a ff chain but we were only 4.

he Asylum Warden Since Jack last saw Dr. G for his covid shot and was drugged, raped and bred by the good doctor he's had nothing but more bad luck. Jack went to the Police and wanted to press charges against Dr. G. There was a big investigation and subsequent trial and Dr. G was found guilty. On the day when he was suppose to surrender to the courts, Dr. G went missing and couldn't be. found anywhere, His office and apartment were completely empty and it was as if he just vanished. Jack being ever fearful and paranoid about revenge from Dr. G decided he had better leave North Carolina so he moved to New York City. He thought he'd be safe in such a big place. One day while at his sales job at Home Depot the New York Police came in and put Jack in cuffs and took him away. Apparently Dr. G had pressed charges charging Jack with False Accusations, Slander, and Harassment. On his second day in jail, Jack was taken to the County Insane Asylum for observation. He was placed in the ward for known 'gay' individuals to segregate them from the 'straight' population. Jack kept protesting that he never should have been arrested, that he wasn't psychotic or gay and this was all a big mistake. As fate would have it Jack arrived just as they were planning the annual Christmas pageant for the doctors, nurses, aides and other 'straight' patients. So on his third day at the asylum Jack was told he was to participate in the pageant with all the other 'gay' inmates. Since he had no known talents he would be part of the all male chorus line. Jack was given his nightly 'sleep' medication which had him completely unconscious in minutes. He was stripped naked and all his clothes were removed from the room and replaced by his 'costume' for the pageant and a note saying rehearsals would begin immediately after breakfast at 7AM. When Jack awoke in the morning he was in total dismay at the situation. The skimpy costume was so ultra gay and revealing he did not want to put it on but had no choice. It was that or go to breakfast naked. At the rehearsals he was befriended by Tom, a beefy mid-westerner who took pity on poor Jack, although he was hoping to eventually get a piece of that ass. As revealed his dilemma to new found friend, Tom said his sister had brought him a t-shirt as a gift for Christmas but it didn't fit and Jack could have it.. Jack quite humbly accepted the kind offer and constantly wore the shirt except when he was forced not to while on the stage performing. At this point, as highly anticipated, Jack demanded to see the Asylum Warden. He wanted to tell his side of the story and make him realize this was all wrong, a colossal misunderstanding and a very big mistake. Later in the early evening, Jack was summoned to the Warden's office and escorted by two very humpy orderlies. Jack kept pulling the back of his t-shirt down as he was still wearing the skimpy costume and was trying to conceal that his butt was exposed. The Warden walked in and was a rather serious, scary type. He was extremely muscular and well built and had a very commanding presence. At first glance Jack thought he somehow looked oddly familiar but he was wearing eyeglasses and had a big bushy beard so it was hard to see his actual face. He spoke with a funny kind of accent and the name tag on his shirt read 'Warden Jaxx". Jack just ignored his first inclination which will prove to be his ultimate undoing. Warden Jaxx handed Jack a cup to drink and then had Jack lie down on his orange sofa and pulled up a chair next to him. He gave him a stern pensive look and asked what was the trouble that he insisted on seeing the warden. Jack proceeded to tell the entire story from hisn initial visit to Dr. G, his moving to NYC to start over and his 'false' arrest and now imprisonment in the psych ward and being labeled 'gay' and having to participate in this ridiculous pageant and how he wanted his clothes and demanded to be released immediately. Warden Jaxx listened intently, looking over the top of his glasses now and then, then brushing his beard deep in thought and finally he spoke. He told Jack he wanted to help him but Jack needed to accept there were certain rules here that must be obeyed. He told Jack he was too uptight and needed to relax and that he was going to have one of the orderlies give him some pot for medicinal purposes that should help. He asked Jack if he smoked pot and Jack said "yes, sometimes, but it makes me sleepy', the Warden said that wasn't a problem this is white pot and it doesn't have that effect. Then he said let's get to the part where we 'help' you. First you need to hire a lawyer to get the charges dropped and get released from the asylum. The Warden then suggested things would be much better for Jack is he would learn to cooperate instead of being so disobedient all the time. Jack agreed to be less argumentative and the Warden seemed pleased. He then said to Jack, the first rule here is that you wear the clothes we give you and not anything else. He added, did one of the staff give you that t-shirt and Jack shook his head no and the warden told him to remove it immediately. Jack naturally went to refuse and the Warden raised his finger up and said 'I thought you were going to obey the rules'....he then sharply commanded 'take the shirt off now"! He was definitely undressing Jack with his eyes as he peered at the boy with what looked like a smirk on his face. He then handed Jack a collar and the warden said, now let's see if you can follow these simple instructions and put the collar on. Jack did as he was told and then asked what it was for and the Warden tersely replied, 'I will be asking the questions from now on'. With that Jack felt an electric shock throughout his system. He cried out in pain. The Warden said if he didn't shut up he would zap him again but for a longer period of time. Jack's eyes filled with tears. He was now terrified of the Warden. The Warden then said, 'let's get some things straight here, first, you are not in charge of your fate, I am! Second, for now on you will do exactly as you are told with no questions asked or you can expect more of what you just got! Third, it is my opinion that you are nothing more than a pathetic, little faggot totally worthless unless you are on your back or on your knees being the cum dump you were born to be'. Jack started begging the Warden to stop and let him go. Warden Jaxx then said to Jack, 'calm down, don't worry, you came here asking for my help and now I am going to help you'. With that he pulled out a syringe from his pocket and Jack said , "no, no I don't want any drugs". The Warden said, 'this is just a little something to calm you down and help you sleep, it will relax you and you know what I will have to do if you refuse'. With that, without any warning, he shocked Jack again. Jack knew better than to resist and took the injection. Warden Jaxx said 'I will be back in a moment just stay there and don't move'. When the Warden came back, he looked at Jack and said 'Hello, Faggot, long time no see!" With that he removed his eyeglasses and what was a fake beard!! It was indeed Dr. G!!!! Jack was so startled and all he could say was 'but how is this possible?" Dr G/ Warden Jaxx then said "well Jack, after the trial I was forced to assume a new identity and leave NC. Fortunately my brother Gerald Gunnerjaxx is the Governor of the state of NY so he appointed me Warden of the Asylum and now I am in charge with no boss over me and if anyone dares to say anything about my methods I will simply say they are insane which is exactly what is going to happen to you. For now on you will be on a steady diet of drugs and injections. If you think you aren't gay now you will think differently once you get the fuck flu. You will be used steadily by your fellow inmates, the staff, fellow doctors, and the entire straight inmates who are always looking for a hole to fill and this will be your life for now on and there's absolutely not a thing you can do about it." He then told Jack to strip and threw him on the bed and raped him for hours filling him with multiple loads! Jack was officially now a committed whore cum dump. Sometimes, just for fun, the Warden would bring Jack some slutty clothes, then zap him and drug him and take him to a local gay movie theater where he would make him strip, service him and then put him naked, on display for anyone to use him. Dr. G had his sweet revenge at last!

Moderator's Note: The original poster cannot seem to grasp the rules of the forum. I am closing this thread.

Yes, I was 23 and after living in a major city for a few months I was quickly realizing my shitty little job just wasn’t paying enough. Started escorting and did really well for 6 months or so. Had a few of regulars - both good and not so good. All in all a pretty positive experience for me and now I love the reactions I get now 30+ years later when I tell people what I did way back when.

Looking for poz tops who want to convert my neg ass, will have a nice motel room in the city

Very horny indeed!

Great piece of work. Straight sex doesn’t really turn me on for w long time but I got a hardon while I was reading this

Fucking hot. Very happy for you! Soon enough you’ll be hooked and become a total pig and cock whore.

If you edge a guy several times, you're guaranteed to get a huge, creamy load in your mouth. Playing with the guy's balls adds to his pleasure, but edging gives you what you want. I sucked a young, black guy's cock for more than an hour before he rewarded me with his gift of "gold." When on the verge of shooting his load, I'd stop sucking, then I'd start again. I sucked on an ice cube before continuing to suck his cock. I did that several times, then he pleaded with me to just take his load. At that point I sucked his cock more vigorously and he just filled my mouth with an incredibly huge load. He hasn't stop calling me. He has also told his friends that if they really want an awesome blowjob they should come to me. I've had several hot times with young, handsome, physically-fit black guys who love feeding me their gorgeous cocks.

Exactly how I want it!

I have not been fisted yet but when I do get the opportunity I definitely want to have it filmed

Guess I live in the wrong city 😢

I love swallowing cum… better yet, a dim pinning me and ramming his cock down my throat and cuming there…

I think you would need to start a new club/organization. The events that bring the most customers in the door at the existing establishments are the opposite of this. It's been a couple of years since I have actually gone in on a Spa which is night, but based on just driving by the parking situation at the weekly Spa nights held on Tuesday at Steam and Wednesday at Hawks bring in 3 times as many customers as the monthly Cumunion parties, currently hosted one Saturday a month at Steam. I don't really blame them for leaning into what the local demand is for, but it's still frustrating. Steam hosts a hugely attended quarterly Saturday night spa party that I often forget about until I'm hunting for a parking space. No one from the staff at either bathhouse has ever warned me that my preferred activities aren't welcome on Spa nights, but the patrons have made it clear in both actions and words.

Excellent start. Please keep it going. That’s a similar plot to how I met one of my favorite fuck buddies.

It's a fantasy of mine to find a doctor who understands the power and allure of HIV that possesses us chasers. A few years ago, there was a story on BZ that focused on a medical practice that promoted pozzing of patients. All of the staff were involved from front desk staff to the physicians. I really loved this story and often masturbate recalling it, and this current scene fits well into the "pozzing in a medical setting" fantasy of mine. Thank you, @billyinrifor giving me one more sexy "pozzing" scenario to add to my masturbation collection. (Although, I will have Dr. Throne's cum to be very toxic, with med-resistant strain to give Alex something extra to share with his future conquests.)

Intense!

love how this is going. Fuckin hot how oblivious Jack is. I'd love him to get stealth slammed and stealth Pozzed but Master Joseph will decide.

Listen up, you worthless neg cunt. My name is Artur and I already fucking own that sloppy faggot pussy between your legs. It stopped being “yours” the second you started leaking for toxic dick. That pink little neg rosebud? It’s my property now. My breeding chute. My toxic dump site. My death sleeve. Next time we meet I’m not asking. I’m gonna rip those piss-stained briefs down to your ankles, shove your face into the cum-crusted mattress that’s been marinating in strangers’ loads for months, and ram my raw, leaking, poz death-cock straight into your dry, clenching hole. No spit. No lube. Just the slick film of my own toxic precum and whatever crusty remnants the last five loads left behind. You’ll feel every barbed inch scrape your guts raw as I punch past your second ring like I’m trying to split you in half. I’m gonna fuck you like the disposable meat-puppet you are—long, vicious, piston strokes that make your sloppy cuntlips fart and squelch around my shaft. You’ll smell it: that sour, metallic reek of old cum, fresh precum, ass-juice and the faint chemical stink of the virus itself leaking out of my piss-slit with every brutal thrust. That’s the perfume of your new life, faggot. Breathe it in deep while I churn your insides into a toxic slurry. My heavy poz balls—swollen, veiny, packed with millions of my defective seed—are gonna slap wetly against your taint, painting your crack with the sweat and ass-slime that’s already dripping off them. Every time I bottom out I’ll grind my pubes into your stretched rim, letting the curly black hairs matt down with your own cunt-juice and my leaking death-drool. You’ll feel my cock throb thicker inside you, swelling with the sick pleasure of knowing I’m already flooding your bloodstream with my gift. When I finally unload it won’t be some polite little squirt. It’s gonna be a violent, pulsing geyser—thick ropes of hot, infected poz cum blasting so deep you’ll taste it in the back of your throat. I’ll hold you pinned, ass-up, face-down, screaming into the stained sheets while I pump rope after rope after rope, painting your colon white, forcing it into every fold and crevice until your guts are bloated and sloshing with my toxic seed. You’ll feel it seep upward, worming into your torn inner walls, slipping into capillaries, claiming every fucking cell. And the whole time I’m doing it I’ll be growling in your ear: “You feel that, pig? That’s your new master moving inside you. My virus is already swimming upstream, hunting your neg blood. You’re getting pozzed right now, you stupid fucking cum-rag. This is mercy. This is kindness. I’m putting a useless oxygen thief like you out of everyone’s misery.” I’ll keep you plugged on my softening cock for a long time after—letting the last dribbles ooze out, letting your wrecked hole try to suck it all back in like the greedy poz-whore it was born to be. Then I’ll pull out slow, watching my thick white poison bubble and fart back out of your gaped, ruined pussy—strings of it clinging to my shaft, dripping down your taint in nasty globs. “Look at that mess,” I’ll sneer. “That’s what a properly owned cunt looks like. Open wide, faggot. Clean my toxic dick with your throat while my load settles in your guts.” You’ll gag on the taste—bitter, metallic, cheesy, alive with virus—and you’ll thank me for every inch. Because you know it’s true: You deserve this. You crave this. You were born to be pozzed, broken, shortened, discarded. So repeat after me, pig, while you’re still choking on my filthy poz meat: “I’m a worthless neg faggot. I deserve Artur’s HIV. I deserve to be fucked raw and pozzed deep. I deserve my life cut short by toxic cock. Artur is my God. Artur’s virus is my purpose. My cunt belongs to Him forever. Thank You, Sir, for breeding death into this useless hole.” Now get on all fours. Spread those cheeks. Show me the pink neg pussy I’m about to murder. Artur’s coming for it. And once I’m inside, there’s no going back…(The end.)

The dimly lit basement reeked of sweat, cum, and stale beer, the kind of place where jocks like Brock and Jax hung out after pumping iron at the gym, their bodies still slick from the workout. Brock was a massive brute, 6'4" of pure muscle, his veins bulging like ropes under his tattooed skin, a thick 9-inch cock swinging heavy between his legs, already leaking toxic precum. Jax was leaner but no less vicious, his abs ripped like a washboard, his 8-inch dick pierced at the tip for that extra rip when he tore into fresh meat. Both were poz kings, their blood swimming with the virus they'd proudly collected from countless raw fucks, turning negatives into walking time bombs. They'd spotted the twink at the club earlier—some clueless 22-year-old named Alex, all smooth skin and innocent eyes, bragging about being neg and clean. "Fucking idiot," Brock had laughed, slipping a roofie into his drink. Now, Alex was sprawled on the grimy mattress, groggy and half-conscious, his wrists bound to the bedframe with duct tape. He mumbled protests, but the drugs kept him weak, his hole exposed and twitching as the two tops circled him like predators. "Look at this fresh neg hole, bro," Brock growled, slapping Alex's ass hard enough to leave a red welt. "Prime for pozzing. My strain's gonna eat him alive—full-blown AIDS in under a year, watch." Jax chuckled, stroking his pierced cock, the metal glinting under the bare bulb. "Nah, mine's nastier. Drug-resistant shit from that whore in the alley last month. We'll tag-team this bitch, flood him with our gift, and shave a decade off his pathetic life. Bet he won't even hit 30." Brock grabbed Alex's hips first, pinning him down with one massive hand on his back, the twink's face smashed into the mattress. "Hold still, you neg slut," he snarled, spitting on his hole before ramming in raw. Alex screamed, but Brock just laughed, thrusting deep, his toxic load churning inside. "Feel that? That's my virus knocking at your door. Gonna convert you, make you one of us—coughing up blood while we fuck your wrecked ass." Jax watched, jerking off, his eyes hungry. "Pound him harder, bro. Break that barrier. I want him bleeding for my turn." Brock pistoned relentlessly, his balls slapping against Alex's thighs, grunting with each brutal stroke. "This hole's tight—neg as fuck. Not for long. My poz cum's gonna rewrite his DNA, turn him into a diseased cumdump. Imagine him wasting away, begging for meds he can't afford. Shortens his life? Hell, we'll end it early." After a few minutes, Brock pulled out with a wet pop, his cock glistening with precum and a hint of blood. "Your turn, Jax. Pass the meat." They flipped Alex like a ragdoll, Jax pinning his shoulders while Brock held his legs spread. Jax slammed in without mercy, the piercing scraping Alex's insides, drawing a fresh cry. "Fuck yeah, feel that tear? That's my gift sliding in deep. Our strains mixing in your gut—double the poison. You're done, boy. No more clean life for you." Brock leaned in, whispering in Alex's ear while Jax fucked him senseless. "We're bragging rights, kid. We've pozzed dozens—turned jocks like you into skeletons. Your hole's just another notch. By morning, you'll be infected, rotting from the inside. Short life ahead—blame our toxic cocks." Jax sped up, groaning. "Gonna cum soon. Flood this neg pig with my load. Watch him swell up with fever in a week." They traded him back and forth for hours, each turn more vicious—Brock choking him lightly while Jax bit his neck, both joking about his impending doom. "Bet his family's gonna wonder why he's dying young," Brock laughed mid-thrust. "Our secret—pozzed by the best." Finally, they both unloaded deep, pinning him flat as their mixed cum seeped out, the virus taking root. Alex lay broken, sobbing, but the jocks just high-fived, wiping their dicks on his face. "Another one down, bro. Who's next?"

Definitely

I wonder if your husband is the issue; Carnival in Rio is infamous for wide-open sexual expression. Is it possible that he's behind the non-action? We went (it was years ago now) once, and it was as though every tubs/bookstore/fuckjoint in the Northern Hemisphere had temporarily relocated to Rio. Brazil is loaded with stunningly beautiful men, and surely they're fucking each other someplace ...

I wonder if I'd bother to even go to those places again .... How about this: invent some drrrrrrty-sounding name for a new club/organization for gay men that actually need to fukkin breed, and find a place to hold the event. Be sure to mention that NO bullshit will be acceptable; only guys who actually want to fuck/take loads are invited, and work with what actually does turn up. I would think that a local fuckjoint, or someone wanting to crank up the action at an existing one would be interested in co-sponsoring. Spell out clearly that this event is for actually having sex, not coming up with new and tiresome ways to not actually fuck.

at the very least ... frankly, Bokkierob must be a more gracious man than many.

Amazing!