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I was on BBRTS last night and received a message from a guy saying only "We want to destroy you now." I looked at his profile and he was hot. He was 37 and had a great body. "How many guys?" I asked. "You will find out when you get here," he answered. "What are you after?" I asked. "ou won't have a say in what we do." Now I was horny! I jumped on the subway and headed to the hotel, arriving wet as it was pouring. I made my way to their room. When the door opened I found four gym fit naked guys. 'Fuck', I thought. I took a little drink and stripped, and sat on the face of one of the guys who was laying on his back on the bed. He got to work getting me wet while I went between the other three guys, sucking each guy's cock. Less than five minutes later one guy said in broken English "Now we destroy you." Pushing me onto my back, the guys held me down and pulled my legs up and apart. Then one of the guys thrust his way all the way into my ass and started pounding me. There was no way to stop and there was very little pleasure (at least for me) but at least I knew they weren't joking in saying they would destroy me. The whole session lasted about two hours. They spoke almost entirely in Italian so I had no clue what was coming next, but occasionally they used English, at which time they spouted poz talk and name calling, such as faggot, worthless slut, etc. They took turns with me, and there was quite a bit of ass to month cleaning, a bit of DP as well as face fucking. One after the other each made a final assault on my ass, blowing his load in me. The last guy churned it all up as the sperm flowed down my ass. After he blew I licked his dick clean , and could taste all four loads. Then I collapsed on the bed and they kept fingering some of their loads out of my hole and fed the cum to me. I made a move to jerk off but they stopped me, handed me my clothing, and told me to get lost. Which, of course, I did. Even if my ass is still a bit sore this morning, the experience was totally worth it.

I just took two loads and gave one in Victoria Beacon Hill Park, around 12:00 midnight. After a few weeks of crazily cold weather it finally warmed up to 'just a bit cold'. I've known Victoria Beacon Hill Park since I was 13 and have usually found it to be rather dead on a Sunday night in late January, cold or not, but I was horny to wanted to breed some slut ass and it's the best trolling park around. Even so, within moments of parking and walking into the first wide trail I saw a huge bear of a man, maybe 6' 8", in his late 30s, bulky, even bigger than me. As I passed him, right there on the main path, with only a grunted 'Hey', and he grabbed my semi hard basket through my sweat pants. I reached for his crotch. His cock was rock hard sticking out of the fly of his jeans. He reached into my sweats, pulled my rod out and started playing with it, causing me to harden. For the next five minutes we experienced a typically awkward spell which occurs when two tops meet and neither can quite decide who is going to top, and both are awaiting some indication. In any event, as has occurred before, (possibly in this case owing to the cold), I blinked first and leaned over to lick his fat uncut cock. He wasn't, however, content with a mere licking, instead he pushed half his fat cock into my mouth. The taste of his cock made it clear his cock had recently been in an ass, perhaps even more than one. As I swallowed his cock, he was roughly fingering my dry ass pucker, only to spin me and slam himself into me in one swift move that completely took me by surprise. In fact he deep-dicked me twice before the pain fully registered. I hadn't anticipated being ruined that night, I truly wanted to fuck and maybe hurt some random ass, but as I tried to slid off his rod slightly he cuffed the side of my head with a half fist, which was enough to shake my marbles and set my ear in fire. His cuff was also strong enough to remind me he was not done and so neither was I. Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of times I would've enjoyed the struggle of extracting myself, and if successful, I'd have made it a point of fucking him well into the wee hours, as I've done on other occasions with other guys, but this time I found myself willing to give him whatever he wanted. I moaned in pleasure and he laughed and kept slamming me. It took him forever to cum, and he commented on as much, explaining between thrusts he had bred two other guys earlier that night. As he got close to blasting in me a frequent homeless native Indian troll I have seen for years - but can't say I have ever played with before walked up and slid his nasty soft cock into my mouth and let a piss go. I have done this to others so was pretty sure he saw me do it or I maybe did it to him when he was bent over. Regardless, I gagged as I struggled to swallow his piss, and at the same time the cock in my ass blasted. No sooner had the top finished-up when the homeless guy ran off, still dribbling piss, and as I turned to thank the fucker he cuffed me in the side of the head again and told me to clean off his cock. I bent over and started to lick the filth (blood?) and chunks of my 'ass treasures' off of his cock, which was still hard. Yeah, Cialis! Before I had cleaned it to his satisfaction I felt a hand behind me feel up my still exposed ass. The unknown fingers found my ass, and, upon feeling the juices oozing from my hole, the hand disappeared. This was the moment I love: when the bottom can only wait to see if the guy is still interested, or if he's grossed out. But this time he was definitely not unwilling as next I next felt a raw cock head forcing its way into my hole, again no lube, although this time I was lubed with the bear's cum. Within a few minutes, the bear withdrew his cock and walked away, at which time I decided I was done bottoming. I needed to nut bad, and needed the cock in me to finish so I could go find a bottom myself. I decided to try to help the anonymous top behind me, so I hinted as much asking in a pathetic voice "Are you going to come inside me too?" The top responded in a snide tone "Well, you let that other dude come inside you, didn't you?" Almost whining I answered "Okay, please shoot your cum inside me. Please I need to get home to my wife before she realizes how late I've been out." Using increasingly strong thrusts, he slammed my hole as he growled "Does she know you're taking strangers' cum loads in your ass?" At that point I knew he was close, and he matched each thrust with some sort of verbal joust. I love being verbal as a top and also love a bottom who begs. I begged for his cum, his piss, anything he wanted to blow into my body, and true enough, he came, withdrew, and walked off before I could even stand-up and pull-up my sweats. Moments later a tiny figure approached. It was a married mid 20s Paki dude I have bred before. He always pretends he has never met me. Or maybe he really forgets. Regardless, each time he's a fast fuck. He moved into position in front of me and bent over, his pants down enough only to give access to his hole. It clearly had just been fucked. I licked it and sure enough cum and cheap lube. "How many loads you got in there?" I asked. He denied taking any answering "I've never been fucked before." God, how I dislike when obvious whores pretend to be pure as I get off on sluts, not virgins, so at this point I was both horny and somewhat pissed. I slid into his ass and fucked very hard, asking quietly as I did so "But your willing to take my raw cock in your ass? No condom. No pulling out." "Yes," he groaned. Then I asked "Are you poz?" "Yes." Again I repeated my question, and this time he responded by freezing his backward pushes for a second and asking "No, no, are you?" "Yeah, I'm poz, and I guarantee I'm the dirtiest load in the park," adding "are you sure you want it, or shall I pull out?" (Between us, dear reader, I was not going to pull out. I might add I've asked that exact query maybe 200-300 times and so far no one has ever pulled off or even been hesitant to take my load.) As he didn't reply, I came in his hole, simultaneously reaching around to feel his cock. Now, I've bred him perhaps half a dozen times over the past two years and this was the first time I had actually felt for his cock. It was one of those thick beer can cocks, but it had an odd 45 degree bend just below the head. In any event, just as I came in his hole, his weirdly-shaped cock blew into my hand. I am home now but horned up again, lol.

4. JP "Get up on the counter," Jon said. I knew what was coming next, and my hole twitched. Jon was a good solid fuck. People would come back for more. But his rimming, well, that was toe-curling, dick-hardening, balls-dripping perfection. Men had travelled over oceans to experience it again. The first time he flipped me on my back and spread my legs, I thought I had died. I barely touched myself before I shot a massive load. Since then, the years of practice on my hole, of all the boys we had seduced back to our bed, of all the random hook-ups on the road, and of all the anonymous men at bath houses around the had matured him in to the world's best rimmer. "On the counter," Seth asked. "Yeah," I said. "Here." I grabbed his hand. He used my grip as a lever to push himself up on the counter. He started to turn around, so he was facing Jon. "Stop," I said. "If I know my husband, he wants your hole, not your dick." "Really?" Seth answered. "Really," Jon said. Seth turned around. "On all fours for me." Seth turned around, his face away from both of us. He bent over, resting his weight on his hands and forcing his ass slightly upwards. Seth was blessed with tight, muscular ass. Jon leaned in slightly, grabbed one cheek in each hand, and spread them apart. "Ooooh," Jon moaned. The thin spray of hair around his hole did nothing to protect him from the cool air of the room. "That's beautiful," I said. It would look even more beautiful in the morning, when Seth had accumulated several loads of cum and the thick white fluid was starting to drip out. "Isn't it?" Jon said. "Like a statue." "Or an idol," I said. "Demanding your attention." "Yeah," Jon answered. Jon bent his head and went in for the kill. He began by gently running his tongue around the edges of Seth's hole. "Oh fuck," Seth moaned. He arched his back and pressed his ass against Jon's tongue. The muscles in Jon's arm tensed; Jon was going to rim Seth on his own terms, not by what the horny college boy wanted. "Oh please," he begged, as Jon continued to just tease Seth's hole with his tongue. "I think he likes it," I said. Jon just nodded and continued to lick the young man's ass. I stepped around the counter so I could see Seth's face. His eyes were closed, and his expression was one of pure pleasure. He had never had the pleasure of being rimmed before. Suddenly, his eyes popped open, his mouth opened, and a low, animal moan escaped. Jon must have stuck his tongue into Seth's hole and the boy had discovered an entirely new world of pleasure. "Feel good?" I whispered into his ear. "Oh hell..." He trailed off, as Jon continued to lick at his tight hole. "Oh, fuck..." he started again, but once more, could barely finish the thought. I rested my arm against his torso and felt his heart pounding. "OHHHH," he yelped. I looked up long enough to see Jon rubbing his beard against Seth's hole. Whenever Jon needed to convince me of something, that was the move he used. It was hard to refuse him anything; from a quick pre-work blow job to a long, agonizing post-party fuck, Jon knew my weaknesses. It clearly worked on Seth as well. Jon met my gaze; his green eyes had a sparkle in them. The rim job was just a prelude to the main event, but an important one. We were lowering the last defenses Seth had to being penetrated and bred. Jon released his grip on one of the boy's cheeks, and reached out for my hand. I wrapped my hand around his and pulled him against Seth's hole. "You want to feel him up there?" I asked Seth. "Feel his thick shaft inside of you?" "Please," Seth said. Jon was teasing his hole, keeping him from thinking clearly. "Please, fuck me." "You heard the boy," I said. "He wants to be fucked." "Just another minute," Jon said, before returning to Seth's hole. "I think my husband wants to rim you a while longer," I said. "But, don't worry. You'll get fucked soon enough." I knelt down, just enough so that my face was level with Seth's. His eyes were closed again, and his expression was one of pure fuck-lust. There was nothing he would deny us right now, especially when he thought he was protected by the pills he was taking from the most dangerous gift that Jon and I could give him. I started to kiss him. He hesitated for a moment, but then opened up for my tongue. "Mmmmm," he moaned, and his entire body shivered for a moment from the pleasure of being stimulated at both ends. "Just relax and let him open you up," I said, breaking off the kiss for a moment. "I'm trying," he said. "I want it. I want it all." He started to kiss me again. The feeling of Jon's wet tongue probing and stimulating him was clearly overwhelming him, and kissing me didn't involve any higher-level thinking. It was just about the pleasure of feeling another man. "Damn, that's a nice hole," Jon said. I was still kissing Seth, but out of the corner of my eye, I could see him stand up. "I gotta get inside him." "You ready for it?" I asked the young man. He nodded vigorously, his mind still lost in the last vestiges of Jon's attention. "Of course he is," Jon said. He wrapped an arm around Seth's waist, and helped him off the counter. "Let's go to the bedroom?" he asked. "Oh yeah," Seth answered. His entire body radiated pleasure, from his broad, innocent smile, to the thick boner sticking out in front of him. It was exactly the mood I wanted him in. He wouldn't think twice about taking our poz cocks, or our virus-laden cum. "Another toke, men?" Jon asked, offering up the pipe. "Why not?" I said. He handed me the pipe, and I took a long draw. The smoke burnt a bit. I struggled not to cough, but finally I couldn't resist any longer. "You know that's a good sign," Seth said. "Let me have it." I handed it to him. Unlike me, he was able to handle the acrid drag, and held it far longer than I did. "This way," Jon said, doing a hit as he led the two of us to the bedroom. We passed the pipe around once more before we all fell onto the bed, our limbs forming an interlocking knot of men. Jon started to kiss Seth, as I wrapped my arms around the two of them and let one hand drift down to Seth's ass. "I want this," Seth said. "I want this so badly." "I know," I whispered in his ear, still loud enough for Jon to hear. "I want this for you as well. To finally feel another man cum inside you. To know what it is like to be fluid bonded with another man." My hand had found his ass and was pushing apart his cheeks, seeking out his hole. It was still wet with Jon's spit; I wondered if we would even need lube to fuck him. "Please." Seth's voice was barely a whisper, but in the silence of the bedroom, it was as good as a shout. Jon had told me all about Seth. The boy had fantasized about bareback sex for years, but until now had been too afraid of getting infected by HIV to do anything. The little blue pills gave him a license to pursue his fantasies. The only problem was that his fantasy, to be able to fuck without fear, collided with the fantasy that Jon and I shared, to infect an innocent young man with our beautiful virus. Seth had the optimism of youth, that every thing would work for the better; we had the knowledge of age, of how dreams got subverted and used for dark and depraved ends. In this struggle, there would be only one winner, and that victor would be death. "I want to put my cock inside you," Jon said. "I want to feel you. Skin to skin. Nothing between us." My finger slipped inside of Seth. His hole was hot, and his hunger was clearly evident. "I want to breed you. Make you my boy." "Please man, fuck me. Bareback me. Cum in me." Seth sounded like he was on the verge of tears; he was so eager to finally lose his bareback virginity. Jon kissed Seth again, and Seth's ass tightened around my finger, practically pulling it deeper into the boy's body. It was charming, how confident Seth was, that technology and modernity would protect him. But it was a post-modern age, where even old certainties like science and medicine were up for debate. "Let's do this," I said, pulling my finger out of Seth's hole, and gently pushing the two men deeper into the large king bed. "You," I continued, pointing at Seth. "On your back. And you, between his legs." I arranged myself at the head of the bed, leaning up against the headboard, with Seth's head resting on thigh. Jon reached into the night stand, and pulled out some lube and a bottle of poppers. "Here," he said, handing me the poppers. "He may need some help." Jon spread Seth's legs open, leaving him vulnerable and exposed. As my husband greased up his cock and began to play with Seth's hole, I stroked Seth's brown hair. "I wan to see my husband fuck you," I said. "Fuck you with his fat, raw daddy cock." Seth turned his head slightly, towards my groin. My own cock was erect, a stiff shaft erupting from my pubic hair. Years ago, it had been a dark brown, nearly black, but time had taken its toll, and it was flecked with grey, no different than the rest of my hair. "I can tell," he said, grinning. "You know he's poz, right?" "Yeah, I do." "Do you know how he got infected?" "He told me you gave it to him." "Yeah. We made love. And I infected him." "But we don't have to worry about that any more," Jon said. "You're on PrEP, right?" "I am," Seth said. "We don't have to worry." "Fucking hot," I said. "Fuck without fear, huh?" "Exactly," Seth said. "And for my first time, I'm glad it's you guys I'm doing it with." He reached up and ran his hand over my chest, through the salt and pepper hair. "Fucking hot men. Hot, healthy men," he said, emphasizing the "healthy." He was blissfully unaware of our machinations and schemes to seduce and destroy him. It only made my cock harder. "Men," Jon said. "Maybe less talk and more fucking?" He had two, maybe three fingers inside of Seth. From my position, it was hard to tell. Either way, our boy was now open and relaxed. "You ready?" "For you raw cock?" Seth asked. "Yeah," Jon relied. "Bareback style." "I am." "Once I enter you, I'm not going to pull out," Jon said. Before Seth said anything, he grabbed one of the man's legs, and rested it in his shoulder. "I know," Seth said. "And I want it." Jon lined up his cock. Although Seth's perfect teenage body blocked my view, I could still imagine clearly Jon's dickhead nestled right against Seth's hole. All of our constant verification with Seth had given the young man the illusion of control, but it was the two of us that had all of the power. A slight push from Jon, and he would penetrate the boy. Or, I could gently move my leg, and Seth would be forced onto Jon's cock. "Please?" he asked. "You want to?" Jon asked me. I opened the small brown bottle and held it under Seth's nose. "Breathe it in deeply," I said. He was young enough he may have never done poppers before. He must have played around with them before, because after taking a long drag from the bottle, he nodded slightly to let me know he was satiated. I smiled. I held the bottle under his nose a few seconds longer, forcing him higher than he wanted. Seth was, fundamentally, our plaything for the weekend and pot and poppers were the softest of drugs he was going to deal with. "All yours," I said. "I love you," Jon said to me. Seth's leg was still resting on his shoulder and as he leaned in to kiss me, Jon forced Seth into an even more compromising position. "I love you too," I said. Jon's beard brushed against my face, still wet with spit. I got the slightest whiff of Seth's ass. "Make him yours." Jon arched his back, and pushed his hips forward. "Ohhhhh," Seth moaned. "Oh fuck," he continued. "You're...." he tried to say, but couldn't complete the sentence. "Inside you?" Jon asked. "I am." "How is it?" I asked. "So fucking hot. So open. So close." "I want this. Always," Seth said. I glanced down at the boy. His eyes were closed, and his face was flushed red from the poppers. "I want you. Everything," he murmured. "Yeah?" Jon asked. "You want it all?" "Hell yeah," Jon said. I was resting a hand on his smooth torso, and I could feel his heart pounding from the poppers. "Fuck him properly," I told Jon. "Make his first bareback fuck the best fuck in his life." "Of course," Jon said. He pushed his cock all the way into Seth. Seth's eyes opened wide. It was hard to tell if it was from pleasure or pain. "Oh fuck," he grunted. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck." "Good?" Jon asked. "Oh yeah. Don't stop," Seth replied. "I'm not going to. Not until I breed your hot hole." "Don't stop. Fuck me. Pound me. Cum in me." "Yeah?" Jon asked. "You want my raw cock deep in you? You want my poz load up that prepped-up hole?" "Hell yeah," Seth said. "Fucking fat daddy cock inside me. Fucking me bareback. Dripping pre-cum into me." He reached down and grabbed his own hard cock. He started to stroke it. Jon caught my eye, and shook his head back and forth. I knew exactly what he meant; his deviancy worked on so many levels. I reached down and grabbed Seth's wrist, pulling him away from his dick. "Focus on Jon," I said. "There will be plenty of opportunities for you to get off later." I wasn't lying; there was no way Jon and I wouldn't let that beautiful cock go to waste. But tonight and tomorrow, we wanted Seth to know the only way he could get pleasure was by getting fucked. "You leaking pre-cum yet?" I asked Jon. Of course, I knew the answer to that, but the question was for Seth's benefit. "Like a hose," Jon said. "Can you feel it?" "So fucking good," Seth replied. He was lost in his own world. He was getting fucked raw for the first time. "So intense." Jon's cock was sliding in and out of his hole, stretching it open, and letting him find out just how good sex between two men could feel. "Don't stop." "Wasn't planning on it," Jon said. "Don't want to cum too soon." He leaned over the boy and kissed me again. "You're going to love his hole. So fresh." "I'm going to love it even more with your load in it," I said. My cock was hard, watching my husband fuck the young man. I had years of experience being in Seth's position, feeling Jon push and thrust, trying to find the unexplored parts of my gut and smear his pre-cum as much as possible. This evening, he was marking his territory. I wondered if Seth realized he was little more than a pawn in Jon's need for dominance. "Make him yours. Mark him with your load." "That's the plan," Jon said. "That's what I want." He pulled out, nearly all the way, then slammed all the way into Seth. The boy gasped, but didn't resist. "Suck his cock," Jon said. "Lick my husband's cock clean." Seth turned his head towards my dick; I pushed it towards his mouth. He licked off the bead of pre-cum and savored it. I put my hand on the back of his head, and gently pressed him to take at least the head. I needed to feel him accept my dick and to allow me to dominate him. It was not a hard thing; he eagerly opened his mouth and swallowed my cock head. He ran his tongue over and around the head, but struggled to get any more than just the head into his mouth. I couldn't tell if his difficulty was from experience or from his position; Jon noticed it as well. "Let's try a better position," he said. He pushed his dick all the way into Seth. "Flip you over," he said. I pulled my leg out from under Seth as Jon man-handled the boy into the new position, on all fours on the bed. I took my position in front of Seth. My dick was now right in front of his face and at almost the perfect height to slide right into his throat. "Spit roast him?" Jon asked. "Hell yeah," I said. Jon had already slid his cock into Jon's ass. I handed him the bottle of poppers, and he inhaled deeply from it. He passed it back to me, and I held it under Seth's nose once again. Seth took several big snorts before I took it away and did a hit as well. As I was taking a second hit, Seth grabbed my cock, and guided it to his mouth. He quickly swallowed the head and started to work his way down the shaft. It was a welcome sensation as the familiar warm rush of the poppers hit me. I quickly put the cap back on, and leaned into Seth, forcing my cock further into his mouth and against the back of his throat. "You going to fuck his throat?" Jon asked me. His face was flushed red from the poppers. "Oh yeah," I said. "You going to pound his hole?" "Fuck. You know I am." As the poppers took over Jon's body, he started to pound Seth relentlessly. Each thrust of Jon's hips pushed Jon's dick deeper into Seth. The thrusts also forced Jon further onto my cock. The poppers removed the last bit of resistance from his throat, and another inch of my dick disappeared into his mouth. "Fucking breed this hole." "You want that, Seth?" I asked. "You want Jon to shoot his load up there? Make you his boy?" Seth was struggling to keep up with everything that was happening. The poppers were flooding his mind and body, Jon's cock was relentless in its pounding, and my dick was cutting off his ability to breathe. Nevertheless, or perhaps because of everything, Seth nodded his head vigorously. Jon reached down, around Seth's torso, and grabbed his dick. "Boy's fucking rock hard. I think he's enjoying this." I grabbed the back of Seth's head and forced him all the way down on my dick. "You like getting spit roasted?" I asked. "Dick in each hole?" Seth started to nod, but I held him in place. "Don't nod. Just swallow if you like it." "Or squeeze your ass," Jon added. We didn't need Seth to speak. Fueled by the mad fuck-lust and the poppers, he was no longer a human, but just a sex toy for us to enjoy. That perspective made the weekend's plans easier. We were going to bareback him all weekend, inject him full of our toxic spooge, and try to infect him with our disease. More than that, Jon had everything in place to take away Seth's last line of defense. We were going to make sure that Seth wouldn't have a chance to take his protective drugs while he was with us, and when he went home, half of the pills would have been replaced by a useless placebo. These dark, evil thoughts propelled me forward and deeper into Seth's body, even as the poppers started to wear off. My dick was dripping pre-cum, and I realized I needed to slow down if I was going to avoid shooting. His mouth and throat were amazing, but my virus-laden semen would do far more good if it were deposited in his ass. Jon saw how I was on the edge, and brought me back to reality. "Don't cum yet, love," he said. "There's a better hole for you to shoot in." "Once you've gotten it good and sloppy," I said. "That shouldn't be too hard. He's working my cock good. Getting damn close." Jon grabbed Seth's waist, and slammed his dick deep into the boy. I felt Seth gasp, although by this point, he should have been used to Jon's pounding. "Careful there," I said, stroking the side of Seth's face. "Watch the teeth." "He's not yet as good as you," Jon said. "He's still young." "Just needs practice," I said. Seth was going to get a lot of practice this weekend, both in getting fucked and sucking cock. I pulled my cock out. My thick shaft glistened from Seth's saliva. I stopped when just my dick head was in his mouth. "Just work on the head," I said to him. "Taste my pre-cum." He gasped for air, but did as he was told. Seth's tongue ran over my cock head, focusing on my piss slit. By now, there was a steady stream of pre-cum leaking out, and the young man lapped it up eagerly. "Like that pre-cum?" Jon asked him. "Yeah," he said, now able to speak more or less normally. "And Jon is dripping just as badly into that hole of yours," I said. "How does it feel?" "Amazing," Seth said. "Fucking amazing. I'm never going back." "That's what I want to hear," Jon said. "You'll be a faithful barebacker in no time." "Part of the elite brotherhood," I said. Jon smiled. He knew exactly what I meant. There were two clubs Seth would join this weekend. He had started the initiation into the bareback brotherhood this morning; it would be finished when Jon shot his load into Seth. The other club, the one we occasionally called the High-Five club, would take longer. But Jon and Cal, the men we had invited and myself, we would all make sure that he would be a full member soon enough. "Hell yeah," Seth said. "Never going back." "I don't think you can ever go back," I said. Jon leaned in and kissed me. "So fucking close," he said. "You think the boy deserves it?" "A stud like Seth? Of course he deserves it. Give it to him." "Hello?" A deep male voice rang out from beyond the bedroom. "Where are you?" I froze for a second, as did Seth. There was an invader in our sex lair. "In the bedroom," Jon said. He was inviting the invader into our private space. Seth tried to pull off of me, but a well-placed hand ensured that my dick stayed deep in his mouth. The new man would see the three of us in all of our sexual glory; hard cocks buried in wet orifices and not a single condom being used.

My last fucking boyfriend is an asshole and used to deny sex to me. It was only when he wanted it. I need it every day so stop at the bookstore, park or wherever I can get a load. He had no clue that I've been cheating on him for years. Most of the time he fucked me with loads from the bookstore in my hole. He would get off on me cleaning the leftover cum off his 9" uncut cock. He is the kind of sleeper that never wakes up, so I have had tricks in the house fucking my brains out or pissing down my throat and he never knows. If a trick is into it, I love getting fucked in the bedroom while he's in bed sleeping. Little does he know my legs are up in the air wrapped around some grandpa, daddy, kid or whoever is shooting their cum into my asshole. His best friend and his boyfriend have both used my holes in front of him while he's sleeping. I took a job in another state so that was the end of that, but I loved cheating on that cocky bastard. For me, there's nothing like having sex with a cheater. Knowing I'm sucking or getting fucked by a guy with a wedding ring on or some guy that can't get anything from his boyfriend and knows he can stop by my place for servicing and to dump a load of cum or piss into my body and whatever perved out kink he wants to get into. I've now got a few regular straight guys that come over for servicing and they think I'm the only one I let fuck me bareback. One older guy who is a realtor comes over and brings a trick with him he picked up at the park or bookstore. He gets off on watching them fuck me and sitting on my face while I rim his hole. Another guy who is a fireman comes by before he goes home to the wifey for a quick blowjob and asslicking. I fucking love going down on his fat, uncut German cock. My best though is the computer nerd that no one would give a second look to. He answered an ad I put on craigslist. Tall, scruffy beard, greying hair...but when he pulled down his pants out flopped a 10" uncut cock with a red bush. He climbs on my chest and fucks that thing all the way down my throat so that when he cums I don't even taste it. I just naturally swallow all that fucking batter right down. I just got him into barebacking me and he is the type that can't believe some fuckhole like myself will clean off his extra cum from his cock after he's shot. He's really quiet but I'll do anything to get that load from him and turn him into the fucking kinkster he wants to be. Next up, I'm working on him pissing down my throat. There's nothing for me that I like better knowing that I have made a cock feel so good that they have shot in my asshole or down my throat or let them urinate wherever they wanted on or in me. Ever since my 18th birthday when I told my parents I was going out with friends after dinner, but in reality hung out at the local bookstore til it closed at 2 a.m. getting fucked by any old man or guy that wanted to use my body and then cruising behind it and getting used behind a dumpster til 4 a.m. I've never looked back. Thousands of cocks have entered my body and I don't plan on stopping anytime soon. Fuck I love sex and being used for the fuckhole I am.

My hole got horny thursday night so i knew I had to take some cum in my ass. I posted on craigslist early in the morning mainly looking for anybody. I got an email saying that he would be available during his lunch break because he was nearby. I guessed it was a construction worker because the entire road was being worked on. I put on my jockstrap and had my ass up in the air waiting for him. He came in smelling like asphalt and dirt. I could see his boots when i looked under myself. He took off his toolbelt and set it on the counter, lubed me up and entered me. He pumped my hole hard and held on tight to my hips as he cummed inside me. I don't know if he told his work buddies or not but I had my hole filled by three more construction workers. All of them came inside me as if they hadn't had sex in a long time. At the end my hole was gaped, throbbing and dripping full of cum.

After dinner trip to ABS- A hot little husky bear with a stache, around 35 I'm guessing, was sucking my cock when I asked if I could fuck him. He stood up fast, dropped his pants and handed me a rubber then bent over. Since he didn't seem too worried about watching me put the rubber on, I felt his hairy ass and found his hole was prelubed but still tight. Jackpot! I threw the rubber behind me and started rubbing his hole with my cock, and slid it in nice n easy. That bear hole opened up nicely and I fucked him for about 10 minutes before I blew my nut up his ass. He jerked himself off, then I pulled my still hard cock out of him. He was getting his pants back up when he suddenly reached back to his asshole and, I'm assuming, felt my cum running out of his hole. "Did you use the rubber?" he asked, still wiping at his hole. Now I didn't say anything right away as I was thinking this could get ugly, but before I could speak he turned and left. I waited a few and left as well, and jerked off soon as I got home, thinking bout stealthing his hairy hole.

Getting whored out is damn hot, I've been a boy toy a couple of times. First time was a guy I met at a club. After some heavy feeling up and making out on the dance floor, he led me to a cruising area, telling me "I'm gonna whore you out." Immediately got hard. As we walked down the street, he had his hand on my back, my ass, down my pants, in a very proprietary way. Turned me on that anyone who saw us understood that my hole was his. I was shirtless as it was a warm summer night, and at times my crack was exposed as he adjusted my pants up or down. When we got there, he asked a guy "Wanna fuck him?" then bent me over and pulled my jeans down when they guy said yes. Quickly there was a group of men around me. Got fucked by about a half-dozen guys and took five loads. As I took dicks he would talk with the top and the ones waiting, all commenting on my ass, body and referring to me as a pussy, slut, and how I needed cocks and cum. Lots of remarks on how great my hole felt once it got that first load. No one interacted with me, just each other as they pounded my butt. It was an incredible turn-on, and I still jerk off thinking about it. I've done it a couple of times since, but that was the first and most intense mentally. One of those times you push through a barrier, and satisfy a deep need that you were not really aware you had.

wheres a hung alpha when you need one?

My last load was Saturday afternoon - a guy I met on A4A in November. He's much younger than me (late 20's I'd guess) slim and hairy (NOT my preference - I like slim with a shaved/hairless ass to fuck) and TOTALLY non-communicative. Questions are answered with a shrug or 'uh-huh' and I know nothing about him, except he LOVES to get fucked and his hole is like a velvet tunnel that grips and sucks my cock. He seems to only be available on Saturday afternoons and usually texts me about 3:00 wanting to get fucked ASAP. he comes in, strips and gets on all four, waiting for me to rim and tongue-fuck his puckered hole. I can feel him reacting to my tongue and usually 69 with him and have him sit on my face and ride my tongue. Once I slide my cock in him he bucks and writhes like a whore in heat and always begs me to cum so he can shoot his load. After I cum, I usually lay on my back and let him sit on my cock and ride it until he blows his load all over me. Once he shoots, he quickly dresses and leaves - no chit chat, no cuddling. If I tell him what a hot ass he has, he just says 'thanks'. I guess he's getting what he wants 'cause he keeps texting me each Saturday wanting more. Works for me!

I have a fuck buddy that loves to fill my ass with his chem piss. It drives me crazy everytime he does this to me!

After that time Mark and I got together alone it was as if we couldn’t get enough of each other. Was it wrong? Maybe. Probably. Did we care? Not one fucking bit. I loved that big cock of his as much as I loved the way he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me. It would be a text saying, “are you home?” or “I only have a few minutes”. Sometimes he would want me naked ass up on the bed and he would come in and after eating my ass for a bit would force his big cock into me and roughly fuck his poz load into me. It seemed no place was safe if we were alone together for more than a few minutes. The thought of getting caught was a big turn on to us both but Mark also was quick to realize that I never said no to him. He wanted me naked ass up waiting. Done. He wanted his cock sucked until he couldn’t take it anymore. Done. He wanted to recreate his medical fetish of when he and his first HIV doctor fucked. Done. He wanted me in the backseat of his car or stretched across the hood. Done. He wanted his ass used, fucked, and loaded. Done. He got very creative with the things he wanted but recreating the HIV doctor was by far his favorite. He told me Danny knew about it and how much it turned him on but he couldn’t get him to role play it. I on the other hand was more than happy to. We would recreate the whole thing from the doctor telling him he was positive to the full head to toe exam and of course the need for a sperm sample. Watching his body react to my questions about his sexual history, and watching how his cock would get harder as I brushed my hands across his body to do the examination was very hot. This hot, confident man would turn shy and nervous as we worked this fantasy. It was a snapshot into his past and it was hot as hell. By the end the “doctor” had Mark’s cock down his throat and up his ass and was urging him to breed them both with his poz load. Mark and Danny are both vers, like me, but in their relationship Mark is mostly top. When Mark and I played alone he would really get into me fucking him. He loved having his ass played with. I would eat it, finger it, use toys on it, and fuck it over and over. When I asked how he became poz he told me that an old fuck bud invited him to a sex party and when they got there they partied up and they fucked their way around the party and he eventually sorta passed out. When I asked what “sorta passed out” meant Mark told me he was awake and knew what was going on but that he was in this zoned out place where everything just felt wonderful. He told me guy after guy fucked and loaded his hole that night. That they loved fucking the top guy. That the whole time he was getting fucked all he wanted was more. More cock. More cum. Not long after that he tested poz. Mark told me the longest he had been with just one guy was the years he and Danny had been together. When we all did the three-way he told me fucking someone else really brought them closer together. The one on one time we shared was hot because it was straight up cheating and we both knew it but neither of us was willing to stop. Mark and I traded more loads than I could count during that time. Anywhere and everywhere. One of the hottest was when he fucked me just before I left for work. Afterwards, every time I sat down I could feel how rough he had been with my ass. And, of course, Mark's poz load was swimming around my insides as, the entire shift, I sat across from his boyfriend.

Stereophonic (Midnight) Mr. X pulls out. He suggests I squeeze to hold in his piss. He steps over to the table to prepare my points and slaps Riggs' ass to get him to get it together so he can help him. Riggs needs time to get out of the sling. He slowly drops his feet and tries to use the momentum to leverage his body to a sitting position. I'm lying there feeling how content I am, but know I should be sitting up too. Mr. X tells Riggs he wants me to have a double slam as a capper for the night. I'm kinda sad at the news about the evening ending, but I'm getting real jittery and a little paranoid at the show of footsteps I see at the window. My hole feels empty but I also know that won't be for long. Everything feels twitchy, like my skin is being stung in a million places by jelly fish. My teeth grind. I feel annoyed, angry, anxious, without a reason. Get your ass on the table, says Mr. X. I don't get the sense he's much aware of me or how I'm feeling. He's on a mission, the first part of which is getting his points all set up. I pass Riggs who reaches out a hand and feels up my dick. I stop for a second and feel his other hand going up my crack. He fingers my hole and pulls back to give my butt a hard crack. Instinctively I now say Thank You, Sir. It's automatic, like I'm saying it in my sleep. I'm also beginning to see figures in the dark now. Faces like you see on an Etch A Sketch—wiry, jagged lines in the dark forming faces. I tell myself it's the drugs, but that doesn't stop them from forming. I use the sling's poles to help me get closer to the table. I put a hand on Mr. X's shoulder. His skin is on fire. I feel drawn to him because my skin feels like wet ice. I nuzzle in back of him and he nudges me away, a spoon in one hand, heating the contents with a lighter. How much? I venture to ask him. Point three and three. And with the chem piss, how much? You'll be fine, he answer distractedly. I make it to the table, which is up at a forty-five degree angle. I feel like everything needs to be in slow motion, that I can't skip a step in adjusting myself to climb on it or I'll fall to the ground. I get up but I'm stuck until someone can help me with my legs. Riggs is there, unlocking the back of the medical table, lying it almost flat, me traveling down with it, the room travel down, the ceiling moving down. I look up behind me, upside down, and it's dizzying. I watch shadows of upside-down feet walking by the window. I wonder who they are, if they're going to be joining us. I hope not. Irrationally I fear there will be more people coming. The last thing I want is to meet any more people tonight. As much as I don't want the evening to end, I fear it will never end. Riggs grabs a leg and drapes it over a stirrup, then drapes my other leg in the other one. He adjusts them apart so more of my hole lies open and exposed. A light is switched on and I feel his shadow fall over me. He stands between my legs letting his cock dangle over mine. He releases a lock by my arms and two arm supports spring apart from the table. He straps one small cuff over my right wrist, then the left. He pushes out the supports so my arms are now at right angles to the examining table. Riggs pushes them until they lock in place. Mr. X observes I'm ready and comes over giving Riggs one of his needles and a rubber hose. I'm excited and fearful at the same time. I'm not sure what they're doing but like the fact I'm literally in the dark as to what to expect. Riggs comes around to my left, Mr. X is on my right. Both men take the rubber hose to my biceps and tie them off. They swab my arms and located a vein. I'll go first, says Mr. X to Riggs, then you follow up once I'm in him. "David," says Mr. X. It takes a second for it to occur to me that he's talking directly to me, bending over in my face. "You are having a very good slam first. I want you to ride like before. I'm going to start opening you. You think you can't take it but how much you're ass has taken already, you are ready for your first fist. I want you to feel the rush of Riggs second slam when I go in, and you go over the edge with my fist going in you. You understand?" Okay, I say, looking up in the mirror at my spread out body. I hear his words but have no idea what he's getting at. Get ready, he tells Riggs, not me. I am barely here any more. I am a reflection to myself, looking down upon my body. Mr. X's needle is piercing my skin. It hurts and feels good that we're finally moving. Looking down I see the liquid turn crimson. I look up to Mr. X's face. I can't find his eyes. His head is only black sockets. His cheekbones collapse in his face in the harsh backlight. Shadowed grey strands stand out from his chin. His shoulders are impossibly broad and strong—I want him to crush me; his fat tits have piercings that play and dazzle in the light; his snake hand plunges the crimson liquid into me. I feel the rush travel up my arm and disperse through the corridors of my body. I close my eyes and feel it overtaking me. Separating one part of me from another. Mr. X's venom travels to my brain, some to my heart, some to my lung, some to my groin, which I feel Mr. X's hand is testing with several fingers. So much is happening at once I give up trying to understand, just look up in the mirror and see what my body looks like when it's rushing. I can tell you what I see. Who else would I tell? It flushes red, my chest heaves, my pelvis pushes down on the snake hand I see poised to strike. I can't focus on anything, but feel everything. Riggs' clear liquid turns red, and quickly disappears. I feel a second, larger wave usurps the first. I'm tumbling like before but this time no one catches me. I turn inside out as a hand pries me apart, a large palm of pain and succumbing. I want the snake head and am rejecting it at the same time. Mr. X is forcing me to accept him, and I want to but can't physically take him into my body. These are thoughts I don't own. He does. He is telling me things, what he wants, what I have to do. I respond by opening, by bearing down, guiding him into me. And then he is in. I throb on his hand. I picture the hand inside. I look up and see the wrist I'm swallowing. I thought the sensation would cease once I surrendered but he wants more, he is continuing to find a path through the deeper cave in me. It is easy. How can it be easy? It slides without effort, like a chute that had been laid and the hand is simply finding it's way in to rest, to settle. He then he is in a deeper crevice, and still his snake is traveling deeper. I cry out, I hear myself saying something, it's not coming from me but from the mirror above: Let me get use to it. He had the opposite idea. And tells me things he's doing, wants me to do. I feel his every inch, his twisting hand, the shrill tendrils of his fingers, touching barriers that fall to his nail-less finger, the tip of the snake, it's tongue that finds the smallest opening and bores and scratches to collapse another barrier, and finds he can grind the seal into submission, and I want him to, and what started as a hole only as wide as the tip of his finger, penetrates, now caves in for several fingers, like the tentacles of a squid follow the single finger, spreading apart and conquering another compartment. He spreads his fingers making way for his arm to start entering me. I see his rapid progress, but close my eyes and see it even more. "Open your fucking eyes and see what I'm doing," he says. Riggs is next to me, breaking a capsule under my nose. I am pushing my hole against a forearm. It is too big to open any farther and yet it does. Mr. X works me inside and out. Bees buzz in my head. I hear his words in a foreign tongue, not the meaning but the intention. I am opening to him. I am watching what he's doing. I feel his power. I'm empowering my own destruction. He slowly closes his hand into a fist. I detect his fingers curling, nails scraping my walls, pinch against contracting rectal undulations, thinking I'm shitting when it's the exact opposite. He first pushes in then pulls out a fraction of an inch which convulses my body in spasms of bliss, and his caresses pull him deeper. I see a shine in his black eyes toward the back of his cavernous skull. They shine like coal, like burning coal, glow red, like staring into a furnace, feeling the searing heat, the flickers of flames, and eyes staring back at me. He tells me with his eyes to push and push down on his arm. Riggs crack another capsule and I feel myself falling uncontrollably down on this demon's arm. He is expressionless, takes all the emotion out of the act and replaces it with my obedience. And no, I can't resist him. The sensation of pulling my body apart on his arm is impossible to resist. I feel myself start to quiver on his arm until it builds to heaving myself on him. He twists his body, his shoulder twists away from me and I see my hole moving up to his arm pit. He twists back in a crouch, his shoulder coming up from below, delivering itself a blow that pushes his arm pit, black hairs trailing into my cavern. His toothless maw opens into a fiendish smile as he sees me giving in to destroying myselft. I push and bounce no matter the torment his arm provides. It is the torment I want, and lick my lips in debauched desire. I show him what I want and he is more than delighted to provide me my own annihilation. It's Riggs who slows me down. He's trying to calm my writhing body. Mr. X roars, Let him be destroyed! Bass words, deep and dead, flow into me, but it is the actions of Riggs that slows my bodily offering of sacrifice. I don't want to cease this overpowering desire, but each time Riggs soothes my frenetic body from impaling onto this proffered arm, a little more of who I was returns to my brain and body. I see the storm of waves in the mirror, whitecaps, slapping on this foreign object slowing to ripples, then gentle, soothing swell of tide. It slows my mind, too, allowing me to accept what I've done, knowing how good it feels and still want to survive beyond this night. Mr. X continues to plow my hole, but without me to gut myself, the residual of me, of who I am, remains. I feel the draw he offers me. I accept his punishment, but not my death. Intermission Assemblyman Brenner has been dead for years now, so I can tell you it was his dog he'd kept at his farm in the Salinas Valley. He never gave the dog a name. I think that's just cruel. Who does that? His wife never visited the farm—all those migrant workers. She stayed in their Sacramento gated estate, which he would reside in only when the California state house was in session. For both their sake's—keeping up appearances for her daddy's inheritance money, and for his varied special interests—the house sessions were thankfully brief. Dana Shaftow arranged things. Transportation of the dog was one of the things he arranged. Vinnie was his San Francisco contact and the one who would provide the talent. Money would funnel through X Corp. and everyone would come away rewarded. Vinnie, the talent, Dana Shaftow, and Mr. X. The assemblyman would have a VCR copy for his own private use, and a clause in the contract (which officially didn't exist) stated Mr. X was permitted to make unlimited copies for wider distribution. Vinnie and the talent received a one-time fee; Dana Shaftow's boss, Judge Reinhardt of the D.C. circuit, and Dana Shaftow himself, and of course Mr. X, would receive on-going residuals. The initial overhead costs were born by Assemblyman Brenner. He already had three of these specialty videos on his shelf hidden away on his farm—two with girls, one with a boy. His part of the revenue stream from downloading and sales went first to an off-shore account and then back-channeled into his campaign funds. The three tapes he financed were like gum. After so much use they lost their flavor. That, and they were all on the young and scrawny side. Even though the fax was low quality that he received on his farm Sunday afternoon, he liked the look of this jungle boy—long hair, defiance in his eyes, young and certainly not scrawny. He put in a call to Dana Shaftow and one to Vinnie. On his end, Vinnie put the wheels in motion immediately. Dana caught the call on his cell, waiting in line in a Washington D.C. dry cleaner. Sure, he knew of a secluded house on the market, across the bay in Tiburon. Wealthy, quiet neighborhood. Plenty of privacy. No, no one would hear a thing. Yes, he could get if for one night. Friday or Saturday. He'd have to check with the real estate agent. He'd connect with Vinnie and confirmed everything. He snapped shut his cell phone, then, to the elderly Chinese woman behind the dry cleaning counter, he handed over a certain blue, cum-stained dress. He arranged to pick it up the following Sunday. I might also tell you that, lest you fret, K9 would not be the worst thing to happen to JT. The aftermath of the event, and the cascade of subsequent events produced from that weekend, well, that would be. Still, he'd be better off than Joey but that's not saying much. *** Okay, okay, Mr. X is saying. I'm not really following any of this shit anymore. I'm so fucked up I don't know my name. You did good, he keeps telling me like that's supposed to mean something. He points to his wrist, maybe a half an inch up. I guess he's talking about the fist that just got shit out of me and that's as far as I went, not like up to his armpit like it felt like. He's telling Riggs to strap me down and he's bringing the table up to a forty-five degree angle. Then he's saying I think we're about done tonight. One more thing. Fuck, whatever. He opens up a black doctor's bag. Was that always here I'm wondering? Riggs did an excellent job restraining me. I can't budge an inch. I'm pinned like a butterfly. I wish I cared. All I can think of is a slice of pizza, a coke and salad with little sliced olive with Italian dressing from this little pizza stand on my corner. Two-fifty special. It's about all I eat. I know I should eat. I should probably sleep too. I can't tell you really where I am, who I am, what time it is. I know I've been fuck, fisted, shaved, pissed in, pissed on, probably pozzed, but hell if I know if any of this really true. I think it happened, but I also thought a moment ago I was riding a man's arm who I first met tonight up to his arm pit. Swear to God I thought I felt his arm pit hairs tickling my asshole. He's putting on blue surgical gloves. He snaps them, I think for my benefit. Snap, snap! But I'm through trying to figure out what's going on. He's washing one of my tits that seem much bigger than usual. It's hard for me to even recognize them at the moment. I look at his tits and Riggs', and though they're hardly that size, they are pretty ginormous. Funny I can remember Mr. X and Riggs but have lost myself. He holds out forceps and pinches one of my bloated tits. I flinch but after tonight its gotta be something really big to grab my attention. Fuck! He's holding out a long needle that he's about to— They're both looking at me, talking. They seem pleased. My tits are throbbing. The only thing I catch is Mr. X telling Riggs to not let him pass out again. I guess that would be me passing out. He wants me to feel it, Mr. X is saying. 'It' has an ominous ring. I look down at my tits and see two small bars going through them. They smart like a bitch, so why do I like them. I want to touch them but I'm completely restrained. Mr. X is washing my dick. Now then, David. He's saying it straight into my face again. I guess I'm David. I go through a huge nerve cluster, one of biggest in the body, and I'm going in deep in you so you can eventually have 00 gauge like me. I guess this all makes sense in some universe, not the one I'm in currently; he might as well be speaking Russian. Maybe he is. He's pointing to my dick, turning it over, rubbing a spot maybe a quarter inch down from my piss slit. I wish I had some opinion about this. Some dread or excitement, but I feel completely drained, emptied. He takes a long steel instrument with a sharp point out of the medical bag. It has a small ring at the end of it, size of a quarter. Whatever. An 8 gauge he's explaining as he's inserting the instrument into my penis. He's feeling under my shaft. He looks in my eyes telling me, Take deep breath. I'm not drained any more—a shock jolts up my spine, rings an alarm in my lizard brain, and ricochets right back down to my cockhead! Riggs is holding me by my shoulders. I feel every shred of skin tearing apart making way for a sharp needle ripping through my spongy flesh. Blood spurts from under my dick and streams red piss over the table. Riggs is frantically putting down paper towels but can't keep up the with the flow. I'm sure I'm screaming but every conscious part of my brain is in the tip of my dick focused acutely on the most excruciating sensation of metal being dragged into and out of my shaft, tugging at it like a claw, encasing it, pliers pinching and locking the invader in place. Mr. X withdraws his pliers leaving behind a metal ring that enters my piss slit, comes out the shaft, and ends with a captured ball completing the circle. "Beau-ti-ful," slowly gushes Mr. X. He admires it. He shows it to Riggs. He can't help himself—I see he's possessed. He goes down on me, blood leaking and all, giving me the most punishing head of my life.

"Get up here boy and sit in Daddy's lap. It's time for all 3 of us to get real piggy." The cocksucker, hearing daddy's command took one last loud slurp on the meaty tool he had been feeding on then rose up and eagerly straddled daddy's thighs wiggling his hairy ass against the spit soaked cock rubbing up against him. "You two pigs looked damn hot when you were making out earlier. Got your leather daddy horned up nice and hard. Now I want to see you two fuckers shotgun some tina then really make out." The pig boi and I looked at each other eagerly, and I could see the barely restrained hunger in his dark soulless dilated eyes. He was a damn good kisser and I was going to enjoy this just for that part of it alone. But even more, I would enjoy it knowing that the shotguns would get him even more spun and closer to crossing that line he wasn't even aware Daddy had already drawn for him. Daddy placed the well-loaded pipe stem up to the full wet lips of this young horny sub pig and lit the flame under the bowl. "Take a HUGE hit pig. I want this shotgun to last so you two fucking bois can swap spit a long time and make Daddy's dick hard and needing to cum." The boi moaned hungrily and began to inhale deep and steady. I was impressed! His hit was even longer than most of Daddy's. As I watched him inhale, I saw the change reflected in his darkening eyes, the powerful potent Tina taking control of him....just as Daddy had planned. The next step would begin soon...as a matter of fact right after we shotgunned. My eyes flickered briefly to the TV screen playing - of course - gay bareback porn. The scene showing now was 2 hot daddies with a young jock in a sling, one feeding him the pipe while the other was blowing clouds up his hole. We didn't have a sling, but.... The sub boi finally ended his hit and with a whispered seductive command from our Daddy he leaned forward to meet my parted lips, and exhaled the biggest damn shotgun I had ever had! Holy Shit!! I started feeling my whole body tingle within seconds! If I wasn't careful I'd be as out of it as our star attraction. I sucked the smoke in slowly tasting his lips and tongue, then returned it to him as we moaned into each other. My fingers moved to his nips and began pulling on them, intensifying the shotgun and tongue action as we traded the smoke back and forth 6 or 7 times. The smoke was gone but with daddy egging us on we leaned into each other and started making out noisily. What a fucking tongue and mouth this boi had on him! I couldn't wait to have him using it on my poz cock! As we continued making out, now rubbing each others skin, I felt Daddy's hand slide down my naked sweaty back then felt the familiar pleasure of his thick finger sliding into my wet hole. I grunted with lust and need, and at the same time realized he must have done the same thing to the pig as he grunted loud and hard and pulled back from my lips. "That hurts, Sir", he said, looking at Daddy. "That's what Daddy wants, right now pig. And you want to please your Daddy, don't you?" "Yes, Daddy, but...." "No buts, pig! It's only hurting because your hole is so tight and dry. My other boy is obviously enjoying it, but his hole is nice and wet and recently stretched." Daddy looked at me and I took the cue. "Daddy, maybe I can help get the pig's hole wet so he'll enjoy it when you slide your finger in him again. I've been wanting to taste that hairy hole of his ever since he got naked! May I, Sir, please?" Daddy had told me to be sure to play up the submissive attitude at the beginning. Daddy looked at the sub pig who was already nodding his head, silently asking daddy to approve. "You liked his tongue in your mouth, didn't you boi? I bet you'd fucking love to feel him using it on your ass wouldn't you?" "Oh yes, daddy, I would! Please! I want him to eat my ass and make me wet...so I can please you!" Daddy leaned back in his chair, pushed us both off his lap and spread his legs, his thick, 8.5 inch cut beautiful toxic cock throbbing in the air. "On your knees, pig! You and me will smoke the pipe and you'll suck Daddy's cock, while your pig brother gets behind you and fucks your hole with his tongue. Would you like that?" Daddy hadn't even finished the question before the pig was on his knees, licking at the oozings coming out of the piss slit of the cock in front of him and arching his back and pushing his ass out for me. "Yes, Daddy! I would...I would like it very much!" Daddy put the pipe to the boi's lips again and commanded him to suck the glass cock, then suck his Daddy's cock. He looked over the boi's back at me with an almost demonic leer of dark pleasure on his face and nodding his head toward the full baggie of T shards on the table next to me said to me, "And, you. boy! Do what you're back there to do! And make sure your pig brother feels it!" I smiled as I lowered my face to this young unsuspecting chemmed up jock's ass, knowing my tongue wasn't going to be the only thing sliding up his hole in the next few minutes. To Be Continued.....

3. Seth If I thought Thursday had dragged by slowly, Friday was positively glacial by comparison. My lab section seemed years long. Lunch was a century, and my afternoon study group was a millenium. Even though I had fucked Mick earlier in the day, I was still uncontrollably horny. It took all the self-restraint I could muster to not disappear into one of the cruisy restrooms in the library and get off. Finally, endlessly, all of my obligations were over. I raced back to the dorm, cleaned up and showered, and put a few things into a backpack. All I bothered with was the bottle of pills, a toothbrush, and two pairs each of socks, underwear, and t-shirts. From my texts with Jon, I knew I wasn't going to need a lot of clothing for the weekend. I pulled on a jockstrap and a pair of shorts, found a t-shirt, and headed out the door. It was exactly 4:30. As I began the walk to the engineering campus, Jon texted me. "On your way?" he asked. "Yeah," I said. It was a short walk across the quad. Jon's office was in the new computer science building. I hadn't had any need to go there before. I was confused by the unfamiliar layout. But, I re-gained my bearings and found his office a few minutes before 5:00PM. His office door was closed. I stood there for a full minute, too terrified to knock. Going raw had been my most reliable jerk-off fantasy for years. Nothing between me and my partner. No rubbers. No protection. Now it was time to take these fantasies and make them realities and I was hesitant. No, not hesitant. I was terrified. From my encounter with Mick, I knew there was going to be no return to the status quo. Once I had been fucked bareback, rubbers were never going to be an option. After the eon of waiting and hesitating, I finally raised my hand and knocked on the door. It was such a tiny action, no more consequential than a single step. But it was choice. It was the first step on the rest of my life. There was a pause. It was terrifyingly long, but in retrospect, it barely a few seconds. Then, there was a response. "Yeah. Come in," a male voice said. It was masculine but not too deep. I hesitated again, mustered up my courage, and pushed open the door. The office was large and bright; sunlight was streaming through the windows. The man I knew was Jon Corelli was sprawled out on a couch, an iPad in his hand. As I stepped in, he jumped up and smiled. "Seth?" he asked. "Yeah. Jon?" "Yeah." He was staring at me, and suddenly I felt vulnerable. His eyes were a brilliant green and it seemed like I had no more secrets left. Nothing could protect me from him, not even the Truvada now coursing through my blood. "It's great to finally meet you," he continued. "Yeah," I stammered. "It is." He was a little shorter than I expected, his hair cropped closely, and a beard. He was stocky, with a defined body. But he wasn't a gym rat; I could tell he had better things than to spend every hour in the gym. "Come here," he said. I took another step forward. He reached out for my arm, and I let him take it. He pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around me. I tilted my head down, and gave him a kiss. His lips were warm against mine. I could feel my cock stirring. I wanted him naked. I wanted to be naked. I wanted to feel his cock inside of me. As we kissed, he grabbed my ass and squeezed it. The kiss was probably only a few seconds, but like the wait for his response, it seemed much longer. "What you expected?" he asked me. My cock throbbing and my ass was twitching. "Better," I said. "You?" "The same," Jon replied. "Wanna go to my place?" he asked. "Get the weekend started?" "Yeah," I said. He grabbed the iPad and packed it away. He put a few more papers in the bag, and then slung it over his shoulder. "I'm parked out back," Jon said. He motioned for me to go out first. He locked the door behind him, and pointed me towards a stairwell. As I walked down the stairs, I could tell he was watching me and examining my every move. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing I was thinking. I wanted him inside me. I wanted to feel his skin against my skin. "How was your day." "Long," I said. "I couldn't wait for this to happen." "Me either." I pushed open the door, back into the brilliant California sunshine. "There," Jon said. "The green one." In front of me was a racing green Jaguar, older than me or Jon. It suited him perfectly: impeccable, without being flashy. He unlocked it and leaned over to open my door. Inside, it was small, and I was suddenly aware of Jon's scent, a bit musky, a bit sweaty. I wanted to bury my face in it, and inhale it. "Let's go." He pulled out into traffic. I wanted him to accelerate, to speed into the dangerous and exciting future. But, unfortunately, Friday rush hour was not co-operating with the symbolism. Instead, we inched onto a slow-moving freeway as we headed towards downtown. "Can I ask a question?" "Go ahead," Jon said. "Anything you want." "How do you get it. You know." "HIV?" Jon asked. He pulled out a pair of sunglasses and put them on. It was harder to read him, without seeing his eyes. "Yeah." "Well," he said. He smiled "When a poz daddy and a neg son love each other very much, the poz daddy puts his raw cock into the neg son." "No, I know how that works," I cut him off. "Be serious. I meant you. How did you get it?" "JP did it. We didn't have prep then. There weren't many options for us, if we wanted to be fluid bonded." "When did you two start? Barebacking, I mean." "The first time, actually." He sighed for a moment. "He asked if he could put it in. Just for a second." "And you let him?" "Yeah. He said he would pull out." The traffic had eased up, and Jon smoothly accelerated. "In the heat, it was hard for me to say no to him. It still is hard for me to say no to him." "And? Did he?" "He did. He came on my stomach that first night." "The next time?" "I asked him to cum in me." "Were you scared?" "Of course. I was in love. That's even more terrifying than HIV." He was quiet, as we sped past an exit. "By the end of the first week, I knew I wouldn't ever use a condom again. From there, it was inevitable." Another pause, another mile towards his home. "I was poz by the end of the month." "Would you still do it? I mean, now that there is PrEP." Another silent mile, but it was not uncomfortable. He was thinking; choosing his words carefully. I stared out the window. "Yeah," Jon finally said. "I would. To be pregnant with JP's seed. To always carry a bit of his love for me. I would." Now it was my turn to be silent. My blood was filled with a drug that would keep me safe from men like Jon and JP. It would keep me alive. But would it let me really live? It would be another barrier, more invisible than a condom, but a barrier none the less. I'd never get to experience the bond they had, never get to live life to the fullest. For the first time, I began to have doubts about my choice to protect myself. Finally, I spoke. "How does it feel? To be poz?" "Like a loaded gun between my legs. And I get to share it." He pulled off the freeway, onto a busy street. "But other times it's scary. I can kill you by having sex." "But it's safe now. You're on TasP. I'm taking PrEP." "Yeah," he said. "It is." I shifted. My cock was hard, and I tried to adjust myself as discreetly as possible. "You turned on?" he asked me. "Yeah," I said, trying not to blush. "Thinking about your cock inside me." "Me too," he said. He reached down and undid his jeans. He pulled out his cock. It was even harder than mine was. "Feel it," he said. I paused for a moment, suddenly aware of all the cars around us, and how easy it would be for someone to see us. Jon noticed me hesitating. "Have you ever touched a poz cock before?" "No, not yet," I said. I was staring at his erect shaft. "Go ahead," Jon said. Then, softer, "Are you worried?" "No," I answered. I felt the drug starting to suffuse my body, building a suit of armor around me. "It's just..." I trailed off. "Just?" "So beautiful." Jon took one hand from the steering wheel and took my hand. He guided me to his dick. I wrapped my fingers around it. The skin was soft and warm, surrounding an iron core. It felt like a man should feel, solid and firm, but tender and caring. I caressed it, and found there was a bead of pre-cum at the tip. I ran my finger over it. It was wet and slippery. "Is it?" I asked. "Dangerous, I mean." "No. I'm on meds. There is barely any virus in my semen, much less in my pre-cum. You could taste it even without PrEP." I ran my finger over his piss slit once more, feeling as a bit more dribbled out. Not that I needed it, but he had given me the permission I needed. I let go of his dick, and brought my finger tips to my lips. I licked them clean. "How does it taste?" "Like a man should. Salty. Musky." He laughed. "You'll get plenty more of it this weekend. Now. I showed you mine. You show me yours." "Here? In traffic? What if someone sees?" "Then they will see a hot young man, showing off his hard cock. And maybe learn to mind their own business." I fumbled with my shorts. I had been hard from the moment I knocked on Jon's office door, and it was not easy to untangle the layers of fabric to get to my erection. Jon was taking quick glances, staring as long as he felt safe as he drove along the crowded street. Finally, I freed my cock, and it stood up straight, saluting the man I had jerked off to so many times. "Damn," he said. "It's bigger in person." "You think?" I saw it every day, and it seemed painfully average to me. Jon reached across and grabbed it. His hand was warm. He seemed to know exactly how to touch me, and for moment, I thought I was going to cum. "It's perfect. We are going to have fun with it." He brushed his fingertips against my cockhead, getting a bit of my precum. I watched as he licked it off, wanting his lips against mine, wanting his mouth on my cock, and if, just maybe, feeling his tongue flick against my asshole. Jon had told me how much he loved rimming, and was surprised no one had ever done it to me before. "Damn," he said. "Now I'm really hungry." He licked his finger again. "Fuck," he muttered as he downshifted in anticipation of a red light ahead of us. "I wanna be naked in bed with you now." "I know," I said. As we pulled to a stop, I reached out and grabbed his cock again. "I want this inside me." "Me too. Nothing between us." "Skin on skin." We were reaching downtown, and the buildings were getting higher and higher around us, as the traffic got worse. At the next stop light, a bus pulled up beside me. He smiled at me, and grabbed my cock again. "They are jealous," he said. I glanced up, trying not to blush. But the riders were in their own world, oblivious to the sexually charged atmosphere right next to them. "How much further?" "Almost there," he said. He let go of my dick, and forced his cock back into his jeans. "They might not have noticed, but the guard at the parking garage will notice." I followed his lead, struggling to get my shaft into my shorts. I managed to zip up just as he pulled into a driveway and we descended into the depths of a tall, mirrored skyscraper. "Good evening," he said, flashing a pass card at a guard. The gate raised, and he drove into the garage. He quickly found his spot, and we grabbed our bags before heading to the elevator. In the elevator, he swiped his passcard again, and pressed 54 on the pad. As the doors closed, he pushed me up against the wall and pressed his body against mine. His lips met mine and we kissed. It was electric, getting so close to what we had talked about for so long. The elevator's rapid acceleration pressed us closer together as our tongues probed each other's mouths. "I've been wanting that the entire drive home," Jon said. "Me too." The elevator's ascent slowed, and the doors opened. I was expecting a hallway, but when I saw the stand of shoes and a table with a stack of mail, I realized that we were already in his apartment. He must have noticed my surprise. "I did very well in a start-up. And Jean-Paul is a corporate lawyer." Then, more loudly, "we're home," "In the kitchen," a deep, male voice replied. I was suddenly nervous. I knew that the weekend was going to be all of us, Jon, Jean-Paul, cal, and myself. But I only knew Jon. "Jean-Paul," Jon said, "Cal is going to be home later." He dropped his bag, and kicked off his shoes. "We can get it later," he said, motioning me to leave my bag and shoes with his. I did so, and followed him towards the kitchen. It was large, with modern, stainless steel appliances and granite counters. It looked like a photo from a magazine. In the middle, leaning against a counter was Jean-Paul. He was a little taller than me, maybe 6'2", with an angular face, and salt and pepper hair with a goatee. He was shirtless, his broad and muscular chest covered in the same dark hair flecked with grey. I followed it down across a flat stomach, and it disappeared into a pair of sweats. I thought I could see the outline of his cock behind the dark red fabric. "Hey," Jon said. He stood on his toes and kissed JP. "This is Seth," he said. He turned to me. "This is my husband, Jean-Paul." "Please, call me JP," he said as he straightened up. He put something down on the counter; it was a pipe. The bowl was stuffed full of dark green weed. I held out my hand, and he laughed, grabbing me and pulling me close. "I've heard so much about you," he said, his breath hot against my skin. "And you're even better in person." He pressed his body against mine, and I could feel his thick cock press against my thigh. When he released his muscular arms from around me, he stepped back. "So," he said. "Are we what you expected?" "Hell yeah," I said. I hoped I didn't sound too eager. "Great," Jon said. "Want to get comfortable?" "You want?" JP asked, holding out the pipe and a lighter. "I mean, if you do." "Yeah, of course," I said. I took them and did a hit. "Beer?" Jon asked. "Yeah," JP said, "you?" I nodded, my lungs still full of the acrid smoke. Jon disappeared out one of the doors, leaving the two of us alone. "You?" I asked, exhaling a thick cloud. "Yeah," JP said. He took the pipe from me and did a hit. He pulled me back, and pressed his mouth against mine. He shot gunned it into my lungs. "You sure you're OK?" "Yeah," I said. "You're hot. Really hot." "So are you," he said. "This is going to be fun." He reached under my shirt and ran his hands over my smooth chest. "Not hairy like you," I said. "Sorry." "No. It's good." His hands found my nipples, and I fell silent as bolts of pleasure radiated out. "Starting without me?" Jon asked. I turned, and as I did, JP expertly pulled off my shirt. Jon was standing in the door, holding three cold beers in his hands. "You are welcome to join, but you're over dressed," JP said. Jon handed me a beer, then one to JP. He put his down on the counter, and stepped back. JP's arm was still wrapped around me, holding me close to his warm body. We watched as Jon pulled off his shirt, exposing his hairy chest. He undid his jeans, and let them drop to the floor. He was wearing a pair of dark blue underwear, his cock straining against the fabric. As he stepped towards me, he pushed down his underwear. His cock sprang free, sticking up and out. Even though I had played with it on the drive here, I couldn't help but stare at it again. I had dreamt of this cock nearly every night and jerked off thinking about it nearly every morning, and now all those dreams and fantasies were going to come true. "Now, who's overdressed?" Jon asked. "I think it's you," JP said. His breath hit my ear, and sent chills down my torso, landing right at my cock. It throbbed, wanting release from the clothes I was wearing and the load that was building up in my balls. JP let his hands drop down to my shorts and quickly unfastened the button and zipper. They fell to my ankles, leaving me in only the jockstrap. "That's nice," JP continued. "Easy access, huh?" "Now you're the odd one out," Jon said. "You think?" JP replied. He momentarily released me from his embrace and pushed me ever so slightly away from him. It was just enough for him to push down his sweat pants. Unlike me or Jon, he was wasn't wearing any underwear, and his cock sprang free. He stepped out of his sweats and kicked them to one side, before pulling me back against him. His skin was warm, and his touch calmed me down, but also drove me crazy. "Oh fuck," I moaned as JP slid his erect cock between my ass cheeks. I could feel the tip of his dick press against my hole, but before anything happened, JP adjusted his position and let his cock just nestle in my crack. "That feels good," I said. "I'm sure it does," Jon said. He was now just inches from me. He was close enough that I could feel the heat coming off of him, but was just far enough that not a single part of our bodies were touching. I wanted to feel him pressed against me. More than just that, I wanted to feel his dick inside of me. "Only one more piece of clothing to lose," he said. He reached out and grabbed my jockstrap, pulling it free of my engorged shaft and forcing it down. It fell to my ankles as well. I stepped out of my shorts and jock, and the three of us stood naked. Jon pressed his body against mine, and forced his tongue into my mouth. I was surprised at the action but was more than happy to let him enter me. His tongue probed my mouth and I knew this was just the first step in Jon's domination of my body. "Taste good?" JP asked. "Oh yeah. Sweet. Young. Innocent." On that last word, I thought JP's cock twitched. But it could have just been my imagination. Jon forced his body against me and his erect cock pressed against my shaft. With a man in front of me and behind me, I felt a bit vulnerable. If they wanted to do anything, there was no way I would be able to fight the two of them off. But I trusted them; we had talked many times through what I wanted, what Jon wanted, and what JP wanted. Our desires were completely compatible. Suddenly, Jon pulled his tongue out of my mouth, and stepped back. His cock was now resting on mine, both of them hard and aroused. "Skin on skin," Jon said. "Just the way you wanted it, no?" "Well. Yeah, I guess." It was a nice start, but I had imagined a lot more than just a bit of rubbing bodies against each other. I had done that in middle school and I was ready for something far more intense. "Yeah?" Jon asked. He reached down and wrapped his hands around both of our cocks. "That's what I want. Nothing between us." I stared at him, terrified that this would be all that I would get. "Isn't that what you want?" I nodded. I was trying not to get scared; I had built this weekend up in my mind, and it was rapidly turning into something totally different from what I had imagined. Jon continued. "You like that? This is how it's supposed to be. Skin against skin." I decided to go for broke. "Yeah. Now all you have to do is fuck me." "Is that what you want?" I nodded. Of course that was what I wanted. "Let's do it." Jon turned to JP, and focused on him. "Where did we put the condoms?" "The trash can?" JP replied, arching an eye brow. "Don't tease the boy. He's probably been looking forward to finally going raw for what?" JP turned to me. He scanned his brown eyes up and down my body. I felt so much more naked than I did just a few moments earlier. "For a few years, I think." I blushed. He had barely known me for five minutes, and he had managed to get at some of my deepest secrets. "You're right," Jon said, an air of amused detachment. "Don't worry, Seth," he said, returning his attention to me. "Only latex in this house is fetish wear." "We should put him in some," JP said. "Smooth, hairless, muscular boy like Seth?" He smiled, and I glanced down. His cock was obviously more erect than earlier. "So fucking hot." "I know what you like," Jon replied. He was stroking his own cock now. It was a thick, stiff, erect shaft and as he stood there, I could tell he was thinking about sliding it into my hole. More than just fucking me, he wanted to slide it in raw. He wanted to bareback me, and breed my hole. A week ago, it would have been the most scary thought ever. But now, it was a major turn-on. I didn't have to worry about the deadly virus that Jon and JP shared. All I had to focus on was the pleasure. "I think," Jon continued. My attention snapped back to the immediate reality, and away from the fantasy I had been spinning for myself. But, the immediate reality wasn't all that different from my fantasy: I was naked, surrounded by hot, horny men, eager to fuck me raw and breed my innocent hole. Not only were they going to be breeding me, their sperm was loaded with a deadly virus. But, I didn't have to worry. There was a small blue pill. Once a day, and it would protect me. "I think there's one more tease that Seth needs to experience." "Oh yeah. That he does," JP said. "You ever been rimmed?" Jon asked me. "Rimmed?" I asked. I had heard about it, but to my embarrassment, I still didn't know what the word actually meant. I had been too scared to look it up online. "We have our answer," JP said. "Right on," Jon said. I wasn't sure if it was to me or to JP. "Get up on the counter," he said.

*** In the early 2000s, Alan Riggs would commit suicide. After resigning his position at the theatre and the school—one step ahead of scandal, two steps ahead of the law—he'd move to Los Angeles. An old director friend from his early New York acting days would cast him in a Chekhov play, to which he'd garner outstanding reviews—a rebirth of a career, his few remaining friends would say; a path forward after an odious turn of events. After closing night, he'd move his dining room table over to one side, climb a chair, wrap his feet securely with duct tape, and hang himself from the chandelier. I could have saved him the trouble and snapped his neck right then and there. I pushed him off, confused. I made my way back from the window to the bed, pulled my knees up to my chest leaning against the headboard. I was angry and also felt like an idiot, exposing myself in this brightly lit room to all of San Francisco. And yet, my heart raced excitedly; in one respect I felt freed. "You're safe, it's okay," he said. He offered me the goblet he'd earlier taken away. "You're drink." "Nah, I don't think so." "Okay, fair enough." He paused to let me process the past few moments. "He's someone I flirt with. A big troll, but Mr. X is harmless." He sat next to me, awkwardly trying to rub my neck, finding kinks in my shoulders, working his way down my spine. "Relax, boychick. You're going to have to possess passion like that in front of many people, many, many times, and that's just one person far away, in the balcony. In the dark. We don't have to get there for a very long time. We don't have to rush. We have all night." I looked at him suspiciously. "All night?" My hardon had withered and with it any desires. "Finish your drink. I can tell you're not the type to pass out." I sipped, this time, as I was directed, but with a new wariness. I wanted to still be in the running for the part. I felt if I got through these next few minutes I still might be. Winning a coveted role, becoming a member of a prestigious company, continuing with daily classes, would give me a reason and a purpose after the summer was over. I sat on the bed mulling over what to do. Riggs pushed down my knees, and rubbed the fur of my pubes. "I don't know if I like this," he said, rubbing his hand over my pubes, attempting to change the subject. "Even the pits. I love the patch of hair on your back but that might have to go too." He looked up, contemplating something on the ceiling, then added, "Except if we do the Albee in the spring.” "I don't know, I like my fur. Everywhere else I'm smooth." "Imagine though being completely hairless. Permanently. Maybe even shaved bald. How free that would be." "Wait, what?" I said astonished. "'In the play, Boy isn't bald. At least he isn't in the script." "I'm thinking of other parts, not just this one for you." Uncharacteristically, he lifted an arm, inviting me under it to join him. "There, smell that. Is that better than the soap smell." I knew he was playing me again, but I smiled anyway. I sniffed and he tousled my hair, and pulled me into his light pit bush. "No, I love your shaggy head. You’re a beach boy. Why would I change that? That's worth more than you can imagine.” He shifted over to his nightstand. “And as a properly raised beach boy you must smoke pot. Am I right or am I right?" he joked. "Chaw!" I said, feigning indignation in my best surfer dude voice. He ate it up. I could see this evening getting back on track. A nice buzz might just be the thing to seal the deal for the evening. "I smoke all the time. Weed and I go way back to seventh grade. The first play I was in at the rec center, Herr von Trapp sold me my first baggy. But I just ran out and don't have a connection here." "Well, you do now, boy. And, as a bonus, I have something I think you'll like even more." From his nightstand he withdrew a glass pipe and a little baggy of white crystals. "What? Coke?" "No. It's something much more delectable. Like you," he said grabbing my crotch. "This is going to be your favorite new favorite. It goes nicely with G, won't make you blurry like alcohol, or teeth gnashing like Coke. Believe me, the last thing you'll feel like doing is talking." After sprinkling a little bit of white crystals in the bowl, he firmly planted himself beside me on the bed, inserted his right leg between mine, prying me open like an oyster. He could tell I was still mildly wary of him. "As I light this, I'm going to take a big inhale and then shotgun it into you. You hold it as long as you can and shotgun it back to me. I’ll do the same, and on and on. Questions?" I shook my head. "How are you feeling?" "A little nervous but I feel a little of the G, so ready to try anything." "Trust me?" Again, I nodded. "No, really trust me." This time it wasn't a question. He lit the bottom of the pipe with a torch and whiffs of smoke swirled in the bowl. He then inhaled the whole at once, held it for a moment, then exhaled it into me. It wasn't any different than shot gunning pot with Perry, I thought. When I exhaled it back, I thought he'd oversold the result. I didn't feel anything at all. He shot gunned it back to me. I held it then blew a clear cloud into the air. "How's that?" "Okay, I guess. I don’t really feel anything." He ran a light hand over my stomach and brushed my dick. My dick was limp but responded with a small jerk. "Looks like a little better than okay, boy. How about this?" he asked, tweaking a nipple. I enjoyed the tug but didn't associate it with the smoke. He rummaged over the bedspread and found what he was looking for under a pillow. "Here, let's get these on you again." He salivated on the black suction cups I was wearing earlier and squeezed them on my nipples. "You ready for another go?" I felt a small tug of horniness wash over me. "Fuck, man. Let's do it." "You start," he said, loading the bowl, this time with a lot more white flakes. I held the bowl as he fired the torch under it. I sucked in the white smoke as soon as it formed, held back for a while, but when I was about to pass it over, he held up a hand indicating to hold it longer. I held it as long as I could, then he relented, and locked his lips back to mine. He inhaled the cloud, held it, paused, then passed it back. After exhaling, this time I totally felt a rush, not like a stony rush, but warmth that emanated between my ass and my prick. I tweaked his nipples, my cock not fully awake, but his dick rose immediately from his lap. "Tell Daddy how you're feeling now, boy." "Like, totally horny, Pig Dad." He evilly smiled back. His fingers rubbed a spot under my balls. He asked me if I felt it here. Eagerly I confirmed I certainly felt it jutting my crotch toward him. "How about here?" he asked, swirling a finger around my sphincter. I spread my legs a little farther apart in answer. "One more go," he directed. "When you breathe it in this time, breathe down where you were taught to breath, right down here," he said, pressing two fingers between my balls and my asshole. "Breathe deeply into your taint, feel it drawing down to here." As I inhaled he began rubbing his fingers up and down, circling out with wider and wider strokes. He pressed his fingers under each ball, one at a time, then drew back creeping closer and closer to my anus. He brought out the fingers that had been circling my taint to hold the pipe. He sniffed his fingers, and said in amusement, "Boy, you have a mighty stench. I think you definitely have industry potential. We shall have to patent you.” I was awake to every part of my body. Where it touched the sheets, where his leg brushed against mine, where, after he shot gunned me and our mouth grew apart, I saw a string of saliva hanging from him to me, like a cobweb. I licked my lips and felt the saliva brake, swinging back, cold and wet, landing on my neck. When his next shot gun reattached his lips to mine, I inhaled but also stuck my tongue into his mouth and sucked in all his juices. He locked in on my eyes, and laid me flat on my back. He breathed over me, into me, not letting me move. Inhaling and exhaling, locked in breath, not taking in new air but rhythmically using what we had between us until we were near asphyxiation. His breath expanded inside me, exhaling myself at the last second back into him. I felt a darkening in me with each breath, something that came directly from him, something from his basest nature insinuating itself into mine. With every breath I wanted it more. There was an unrelenting desire to touch my dick, or his, but every time I began to move my hand, he brought my palm back to my chest. We finally broke with a snap, both of us gasping for air. His palm covered my racing heart. He pulled off the black cups, running his fingertips over my nipples, giving them a tweak before continuing the journey down to my cock. When his fingers arrived, he pulled my erection down to my balls and then let it fly, slapping my stomach. What had originally been a frustration became pure pleasure. Letting him do with me whatever he wished. He licked a thumb and gently glided it over the glans of my penis, and then suddenly, without warning and with utter ferocity slapped my balls. I instinctively curled up into his chest. I looked up at him for a reason, but I could tell there was none, simply cold desire in his eyes. He coaxed me, bit by bit, to lay back down letting him run his fingers again up and down my body. He instructed me to close my eyes, legs open. He then gently, with an open palm, started tapping my balls. With his free hand, he spread my legs further apart. "Stay open, stay with me," he said. The beating of my balls slowly increased in intensity. What had previously ended in a quick, hard smack had made me double up into myself, this tapping, when increased so slowly I wasn't even aware of it, became curiously and ever-increasingly pleasurable. Without really thinking about it, my pelvis rose to greet the next smack of his hand, encouraging him to hit me harder. I wasn't thinking but feeling a desire to submit to his discomfort, even as it started getting painful, I felt a desire being drawn out of me like an itch desperate in needed of a scratched. "Alright then," he said, abruptly stopping, waiting a second, and then once again gave me a full smack in my balls. This time in only half-curled position, eyes still closed, he soothingly rubbed my balls. Not knowing what was coming next, but wherever he was taking me, I curiously wanted to follow. I relaxed again to a prone position. Whether it felt good or not, what I was enjoying was the desire to put myself literally in another man's hands, in Riggs' hands. He grabbed my balls and I winced. "Take it," he said, "let me have your balls. I want your balls, boy. Give them up. I'm not letting go until you give them over. Breathe. Breathe through it." The last suggestion, got me to force myself to lay back even though the pain was excruciating. I opened my eyes to see him release me with a flourish. I reached my arms up and put them around him. He enveloped me completely. We locked lips and laid down in each other’s arms, kissed more deeply, exchanging saliva, drooling out the sides of our mouths. He licked the side of my face. On an elbow he rose his face above mine and stuck out his tongue, drool dangling down. I quickly raised up and suck his tongue. Spontaneously, I felt myself starting to hump his leg, feeling each hair on his leg, seeing precum dribbling off his erect dick. "Okay, boy, you're going to bust your nut or mine." I started whimpering like a puppy, painfully not wanting to disconnect from him. I wanted his pain or his pleasure. I didn't matter which. "Turn frenzy into passion. If you blow now, that's going to cut short our evening and I don't think you're ready to go home." I forced myself on my back only rubbing his nipple, hoping that could calm me down. It worked to a degree. I didn't feel out of control but I was still under his spell, wanting him to take me further. I ran my hand down to his ample penis, feeling his piss slit oozing leakage. "You leak a lot," I said, staring at the ceiling, taking a bit of it to my tongue to see how he tasted. "You have no idea. Though I have a feeling though you will. Stick your finger inside.” “What, in your dick?” “Yeah, the slits big.” I did and it was! I felt I could insert half my index finger in it. I rolled to look and saw how the shaft bulged as far down as I dare go. He writhed with each insertion, leaked even more on my digit. "Are you going to show me how I can get mine like that?" I asked. “Okay, stop. Stop! Yes, and while we explore I'm sure we'll find other things you'll like. Now, lay on your stomach. Let see exactly what your little butt is packing.” Where a moment ago I was mad dog rutting on his leg, I excitedly flopped onto my stomach laying still. Riggs rolled on top of me. His cock slime lubed my butt, and he humped my butt a few times without ever penetrating. It made me want him to start fucking away, but I feared he'd destroy my virgin ass on his first thrust. Instead, he reached under my balls and pulled down my dick, again forcing it to where it didn't want to go. "You can let your butt stay in the air till you dick lets you relax. I want to teach you to take pleasure not just with your prick but with your whole body, especially, if not eventually, exclusively, with your fuckhole," he said. He lightly stroked the inside of my thigh and coaxed me to open my legs. I heard rummaging again in his nightstand. With my butt in the air, legs open, proudly displaying my hole, he said, "Hold right there." I saw a flash, but he said, “no, just relax, I need documentation." "Of what,” I ask. "Of your progress, boy. Yes, beautiful. What a lovely jungle. A tight pink, quite hairy hole. Spread your cheeks apart more, boyhole." I complied, spreading my cheeks as ordered. It felt so freeing to do what Riggs wanted me to do. I was following his words, encouraging me to play with myself. Rubbing a finger across my ass and lick the pungent finger through half-closed eyes. My dick was finally relaxed enough to lay down on top of it. He stroked it a couple of times, alternating between squeezing my balls and playing with my cock. He set the camera aside, and hovered his face between my legs. He spread my legs further, pulled my asscheeks apart, and did what no man had ever done. Feeling his tongue lick first the inside of my thighs, then the inside of my left cheeks, then right inside, circling his tongue down to my balls, then slowly up to the bottom of my hole, then working excruciatingly slow over my asshole to the top of my crack. I moaned the entire time he was in direct contact with my hole. I was ashamed and amazed knowing my hole wasn't clean and yet Riggs treated it to a tender bath, cleansing it hair by hair with his tongue. The feeling of his slimy tongue slithering across my hole sent waves of electric current over my body. He leaned above, looking at it, spread his hands for maximum exposure, and dove straight back into my hole, parting the asslips with his hands to dig in as far as his tongue could reach. I had a decent blow job by the dapper Napa boy, but Riggs eating of my ass left that back in the schoolyard. He chewed the outside my asslips, his teeth biting, pulling with his finger, wet and fat, sliding his tongue between the lips to separate the sphincter until it opened to him. He murmured affirmation to me, how good I was, what an angel. He spit on my hole, then a first wet finger slipped inside. His index finger up to his first knuckle, wiggled slowly, then withdrew. He gave me time to absorb the first shock of penetration. When I used my hands to spread my hole open, he spit on my ass, and re-inserted his finger now to the second knuckle, all the while slobbering to wet and push more saliva into my chute. As his index finger withdrew, he traded it with his long middle finger. I had never felt such an incredible and disturbing feeling come over me as it drove down in me. At once uncomfortable, but discomfort far outweighed pleasure with every millimeter he conquered inside my hole. A new and unrepentant feeling of letting a man, a man who made each thrust feel like a surrender, a man who took over my most intimate body part. "Your prostate, boy. Feel it?" Two fingers now pressed up in my rectum. I cursed into the pillow how good it felt. It was such an unusual sense of arousal and a need to urinate, both at the same time. "How's that feel, boy?" "It's incredible, Sir. I want more, Sir." I couldn't describe how pleasured I felt. I hammed up the role, "Please, Sir, may I have some more." "Oh, Oliver, what a pig you are." "Yes, Sir. Oliver want's more of Sirs sticky fingers. Please, Sir," I said, laughing and drooling into the pillow. He added a third wet finger and suddenly I wasn't laughing anymore. I let out a guttural "fuck," but also pushed my butt on to him. "Let me eat that boy pussy and get it nice and wet for daddy's fourth finger, then you should be ready for daddy. Now arch your back like you wanted to do all evening." I arched to his waiting mouth and he licked and tongued it with a ferocity matched only by my mashing my butt into his face. "Oh, you've got a nasty, stinking cunt, don't you, Boy Scout?" "Yes, Sir. It's your dirty scout cunt, just for you." "We'll see if it's just for me. But you know you're going to have to return the favor before the night's out." "Mm-hm," I moaned and nodded into the pillow. Every tongue lashing he gave, producing a louder and louder moan. "Remember what you're saying, boy, because I certainly will." I kept agreeing into the pillow anything, only wanting him to eat and finger my ass without ever stopping. He pulled back and four fingers pressed on my tight hole. For several minutes he attempted, but it was too much. No amount of spit would permit four to go in. I strained against him, but having such a tight hole, it held me back from what we both wanted. I imagined his four fingers would lead to spreading my hole fully open so I could take in his large cock. He reached into the nightstand and took out a little brown bottle and the bag of tina. He took the bag and, after lapping like a dog across my asshole, he wet his middle finger, dipped it in the bag of tina. "Now, boy, crack the bottle and take a strong sniff in each nostril." I knew about poppers, the Napa boy had them, but I'd never done them myself. I took the two hits like he instructed, and instantly my inhibitions flew. I barely closed the bottle before my head fell into the pillow. At my other end, I held my haunches high, spreading my cheeks apart for Riggs to have free access. Never so strongly had I wanted to be gouged. My butthole puckered out to him as he rubbed my pouting lips and slipped his finger deep inside. I immediately felt burning where he sent his finger. I clamped down hard. "No, just relax," he encouraged. "That burn goes away, and then you're going to want to open up." He was right, again reinforcing the notion that whatever he wanted me to do, I would. "Flip on your back and take another hit. Oh, fuck yes, beautiful, pigboy. Here, put your legs up on my shoulders." I couldn't remember who I was but I knew I would do everything this man wanted me to. I aimed my butt cheeks straight at his evil grinning face. He spread my legs apart and gave me one last astonishing rim job. His mouth ravished me. He diddled a while, brushing my hole lightly with two fingers, then dug in violently till one finger of each hand were buried to his third knuckle. He pried me open leaving me feeling exalted and revealed. He re-inserted three wet fingers again and when they were buried in me, he started flicking his fingers inside. It was another new sensation, making me cry out for more. "There's Daddy's slut boy. Time for a little lube." He brought out a tube and squirted some on the outside on my hole. "Take three more hits," he said, and waited, watching me as I obeyed. I licked my lips, wordlessly telling him how much I wanted him in me. Four fingers, the entire palm of his hand, entered as I laid the bottle down, feeling him impaling me. "Ah, pigboy. That’s great. Good job. Don't fight me. Let me just finger you now. I'm holding right here till you quit squeezing. Concentrate on me, on what I'm telling you. Look at me and lower your torso. Good. Now let me feel you open up. Spread more. Good. Grab your ankles. Stay still. Let me go in deeper." As I lay motionless, legs held in the air, very open and relaxed, enjoying the probing, he gently twisted his finger around my hole, going from a flat hand, and then circling them into a group. Not trying to go too deep, but giving me the sensation of what every inch of my hole was capable of feeling. I sensed him inside me wiggle, sometimes jutting a bit deeper, then pulling back, but with each slight withdrawal he was coaxing me to impale myself deeper. Eventually, I relaxed my inner sphincter. I could tell his interest wasn't attentive to my outer sphincter any more, but now he felt around searching for a deeper obstacle. I saw in his eyes he found something he liked. Now he only wanted to play with that. "Ah, pigboy, do you feel that?" I couldn't sense what he was talking about, but it was another new sensation being revealed to me. "Take a good hit of poppers." I did and offered him one. He shook his head. “Not yet,” he said, “soon though. Take another one real deep, boy, and I'll tell you what I'm doing.” I took the deepest hit yet and fell back, relaxed, desperately horny, flying cradled in the pillow. "Feel that moving inside you?" I did feel something odd moving inside. "That's one of your logs. I'm playing with a piece of shit inside you, David." I heard his words but they weren't connecting to any meaning. The sensation was all I was aware of, bucking up against something inside, feeling a large object rolling up and down in me, something he was pushing in and I was pushing it back to him. Then the words caught up to the sensation and I understood. An erection slowly rose out his meaning and merged with the sensation his was giving me. I understood what we were doing. This wasn't acting like a pig with Riggs. This was actually being Riggs' pig. "You're fucking me with my own turd, Sir?" He nodded with his most leering grin. I was filling up with an overload of sensation. "I'm going to cum, Sir." "No, not yet, my pig." He slid his fingers gently but quickly out of my shit chute. "Not till I want you to." I could feel myself right at the edge of cumming. I managed between squeezing and relaxing to suppress the feeling of nutting and not get taken over the edge. Still, my head was spinning, realizing what we'd just done. “Let’s clean you out. We shall introduce you to the playroom, and then take things up a notch.” I should have taken more stock in the "we" in his sentence. The Casting Sling (Midnight) Riggs led me to his palatial bathroom. Almost as big as my whole apartment. He showed me the bidet, where I could squat and clean out as he instructed. “Take your time. Find the right temperature and do it till you’re running clear." He had turned on the bidet and was feeling for an acceptable temperature. "We don't need to do this every time, but this first time it’ll be easier to have you entirely empty. Meet me downstairs." He wiped his hands dry on a clean towel. "The closet across from the front door has a trick lock in back. I had the garage split in half years ago. Go through the closet to get to the playroom. I'll getting us water and some treats. Need to keep hydrated.” I cleaned out for what seemed like a pleasurable lifetime. It was warm, comforting, lulling me into a calm, mellow state. I would have stayed longer but Riggs called up to me, asking if I was ready. When I passed the dining room I heard him fiddling around in the kitchen, and talking on the phone. I called out I was on my way down. I trotted down to the first floor, and found the lock on the closet's back opening revealing the playroom. At first it was pitch black, comfortably warm. As my eyes adjusted I saw to my right a high window with newspaper taped across it. Occasionally a fleeting car's headlights would drive by and dimly light the space. I felt around for a light switch, found one and flicked it on. The room illuminated only with a soft red light, the kind you’d find in a photographer’s dark room. It took a while for my eyes to adjust, but eventually they did. I could hear the floor creak above, Riggs still moving around, muffled sounds of him arguing. I took my time to scan the room. From what I could tell the room was painted black. A stained bare mattress lay in the left corner next to a door, which I assumed led to the rest of the garage. The mattress had the same stain as Riggs’ pants after I had rubbed my dirty hole against him. Next to it and across from me, was a sling like I’d seen in the man’s room in the tenement. It infatuated me. I crossed to put my hand on it. In the front, two leather loops hung for legs. At the back, chains ran up to the corners, where midway, leather cuffs dangled for wrists. A cracked mirror hung above the leather bed that hung from back to front. A small, black pillow lay at the head of the sling. A table with multiple drawers was on its right. I glanced in the drawers. Ropes, some thick, some thin, chains, locks, gloves, hand cuffs, clothes pins, a variety of leather straps and collars filled the drawers. Where I first entered, pegboard ran along the wall. Its purpose reminded me of the pegboard in the garage where my dad had his workshop. But where my old man’s pegboard held hammers, screwdrivers, wrenches, and a big boobed calendar girl, this pegboard held whips with a single tail, whips with assorted number of tails, dildoes of various sizes, from one the size of my stiff dick up to one with a head the size of my fist and the length of my forearm. There were also paddles, rubber balls strung together, double-ended dildoes, rubber hands and rubber fists. There was a vast array of shiny medical instruments that I could only guess their purpose. Viewed together in the semi-darkness I was totally intimated and keenly aroused. In a darkest corner, to my right, next to a large support beam with a curtain that could be drawn, and where from the window above an occasional headlight flared, was a doctor’s examination table, complete with metal stirrups. The table was modified so the sides had straps that could tie a patient down. An angled mirror hung above. I saw myself dimly reflected, and saw I was sporting a full erection. Since I’d never seen one up close, I was most curious about the sling. I went back over to it, ran my hand over its thick leather surface, then bent down and smelled it. Catching the scent of Crisco and leather mingled together I inhaled deeply. It made my dick harder. I climbed into it wiggling my feet into the lower leg straps, admiring myself and my dick in the mirror. I tugged at my dick. How could something so foreign bring a sense of such familiarity? Riggs opened the door, startling me. He was barely visible in the shadows. “Perfect,” he said. “Stay right there. I knew you’d fit like a glove.” He had what I thought were two cigarettes, one above each ear. Orange tipped, extra-long, skinny. He placed both on the table beside the sling, then turned and came to me and pecked my forehead. "You like, boychick?" he asked. “I love this whole room,” I replied. “I don’t know what half of the stuff on the wall is but it somehow lures me.” “I bet it lures you, tiger. You’re going to love it here, I guarantee. I'd like to keep you here all the time.” I eyed him warily. “Just kidding." Then he turned serious, "but trust me, boychick: there are many ways to be kept." Brightening, he said, "Let me show you one. Give me have your arm.” He lifted it to the wrist cuff and locked it in place. “The better to lick your pits, my dear.” He went straight into licking my raised pit. I laughed and after a few moments of getting into the sensual nature of it, let out a small moan. He licked my ear. A wet gushing sound. He then went to the other side and strapped that arm in. Once in place he spit and wet the whole left side of my body. “Now no flinching while I do this.” He went straight for my dick and started sucking. Being in such a vulnerable position, it would have been easy to get me to spurt. He shifted and popped one ball in his mouth, then the other, then both. He rose from playing with my bound body and ran fingers through my pubes. “How about we give these a little shearing?” “But I like my hair.” “Just a snip then. Just to minimize the bush and emphasize what remains.” He grabbed a small pair of scissors from the drawer and snipped one side of my pubes, then the other. “Oh, much better. But we do need to do something about your balls.” In the same drawer, he pulled out a barber’s straight razor. He took a bottle of water and poured some in a pan. He soaked a rag and washed my balls. He took out a can of shaving cream, sprayed some in his hand, pulled down and help out one of my balls between his fingers and lathered it. He wiped his hands and began to tease me with the blade’s cold surface. He became quite serious. “I would not move a bit if I were you.” Riggs slowly shaved one angle of my testicle, twisted it painfully and shave the other side. He grabbed my second ball and shaved it in the same manner. In the mirror I watched him shave from the bottom of my asshole to the top my balls. When he was finished, he grabbed a stool and sat between my legs. Again he washed my ass and applied lather inside each cheek. With broad stokes he glided along the outside of my cheeks, shaving whole clumps of dark ass hair with each stroke, washing the blade in the pan when finished. As he got closer to the center, his strokes became smaller, more precise, eventually removing each hair individually. He pushed a cheek aside and cleaned until he got to the exact center. It felt incredible as he ran his fingers over his handiwork. Even at the end, when I thought he was finished, he took the blade and pressed it gently inside my ass. "If you clench you'll cut yourself. So relax." With that he slowly twisted the blade within my hole. I breathed slowly hoping he'd soon be finished. He removed it saying what a good boy I was. With the remains of the bottle, he ran the water down my balls and butt draining to the cement floor, washing away any stray hairs with it. I heard the water drain somewhere in the center off in the darkness. On his stool he sat between my legs and started licking my butthole, pulling my cheeks apart until he bared my anus. His face dug into me, tongue-fucking me royal. The sling had positioned me completely open, splaying me, totally vulnerable to his probing. His stiff tongue penetrated deeper with each jab, consequently getting me harder the longer he probed. As a finale, he reached up and locked my legs in the cuffs, saying, “Too late to get away now, Boy Scout. Guess you weren't prepared.” On the right metal pole above my arm was a light. He flicked on. I look away from the glare, and when I focused back I saw him holding a cotton ball and a bottle of alcohol. He dabbed the ball and examined my arm. “What’s that for?” I asked, suddenly more alert than before. He was silent while he pressed and kneaded the crook of my arm. He then lightly felt up my forearm and lower bicep, feeling it with two fingers. “Hmm,” he exhaled. “Not very good I’m afraid.” He went around to the other side still holding the pad, switched on a clamped light over my left arm, and went through the same procedure there. “Better on the right. Not great with your arm in the air but we do with what we have.” He came back to my right side. Started wiping the crook of my arm with his cotton ball. “What the hell, Alan?” “Time for Rigg Pig to get busy,” he responded distractedly, scrupulously checking the area. He looked up and now seemed to notice me lying there. “Time to take you down a notch, Boy Scout.” He picked up what he earlier had set on the table, uncapped the orange tip, and a needle glistened in the light. “Uh, I don’t think so. Not really into needles, Alan.” “I think I found a good vein. We don’t want to waste it. Hold still, I don’t want to nick you. You move I most certainly will injure you.” “No!" I said sternly. "I don’t want to do this.” I rattled my arm in the cuff. “Believe me you do want this. You wanted this your whole life. Just breathe, angel." I saw in the reflection above he was pressing his weight against my arm. "You’ll feel a slight prick and then a warm rush. Some people get a cough, or you might feel you can’t breathe. It passes. Just go with it. It’s a strong dose for your first time, so I’ll start with half. If you tell me to stop that'll be it, but you can always tell me you want it all. Trust me. I know you'll thank me.” He steadied the needle on my vein. “Ready?” I defiantly shook my head one last time. “Stick!” I felt a sharp jab and flinched. “Oh, shit, it rolled. Hold still, David,” he said annoyed. He pressed a clean cotton ball where he had just jabbed me, held if for a second, look to see there was no excessive bleeding. “It will just take a second if you cooperated," he said standing over me. "Be over before you know it.” He examined the area again, smacked the surface of my forearm a couple of times, dabbed the alcohol-laden cotton pad in a new area. From the drawer, he pulled out a rubber tube and tied it over my bicep. Felt for the vein one last time. “Okay, here we go. Stick! Ready?” he asked, with the needle already in my arm. My heart raced as I watched the vial swirl with blood, blood from me! Then saw him push half the contents into my vein. I immediately felt like I was in a warm bath, floating in the Caribbean, euphoric. If only half was in me and I felt like this, I wanted it all. I nodded for the rest. My breath rate went up. “Good boy,” he said pleased, watching me scrupulously. I saw him finish the plunger, watched the clear liquid swirl with crimson wisps of my blood as it vanished into my vein. He quickly withdrew the needle and pressed a clean cotton pad on my arm. He undid my tourniquet. I no longer was breathing rapidly, but had an uncontrollable urge to cough. I felt my lungs contract and wouldn’t release. I went into a momentary panic and then a coughing fit. Writhing in the sling, rushing from sudden unexpected euphoria, unable to focus, hearing the world turned inside out, everything became high pitched and then suddenly muffled. I felt the world falling under me, floating in the sling, seeing Riggs check the pulse in my neck. He watched over me looking pleased. I mouthed an involuntary thank you. He bent down and sucked on a nipple, then the other, then ran a tongue down my chest, swirled around my belly button, sliming me down until he reached my cock. My tip was so hard it was purple. He licked it, driving me wild so that I bucked in his mouth. "Ride it, tiger," he said with my cock in his mouth. "It only gets better." I caught up to the sensory overload, and felt the climax of the initial rush. It was so good, like a thousand orgasm, helped along by Riggs foundling my cock and balls. “Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” I repeated. It was too much to take, felt too good, I didn't want it to stop. “Keeping breathing. You’re okay. Just ride it like a wave.” That made sense to me, letting the rush overtake me, not fighting it, spinning like so many times I had done falling off my surfboard from a humongous wave. Going with the tumbling not fighting it, letting it have me, take me where it wanted. Swirling with the swiftest current I'd ever felt, knowing I was riding with each wave, not being pulled under by it, the intensity of panicked excitement eased. The more I rode it, the more I enjoyed it. The pleasure flowing through my body kept increasing my arousal. I felt a physical warmth flushed over me, heat oozed through me, my cock and balls in Riggs’ hand, my asshole he fingered, my tits he tweaked. Riggs was feeling me all over, and I vacillated between being overwhelmed by sensation and wanting him to touch me more. The warmth now was turning to real heat, and a euphoric feeling of comfort, a sense that this comfort was continuing to expand exponentially. By two, four, by a hundred, a million, never ending. It wasn’t a panic anymore but an utter and complete surrender to the physical awareness of intense pleasure, everywhere, at the same time. Nothing at all like when Riggs and I smoked. Now singularly wanting to connect to him at this moment, too out of control to form any thoughts other than communicating to Riggs by repeating, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” "Are you okay?" he asked seriously, braking out of a role. I nodded and gave a thumbs up. He laid his hands on my tits, pinching them hard. It felt overwhelmingly good. “Harder!” I cried. “Just lie back and enjoy it,” Riggs said. “You'll keep rolling for a while.” “How is…fuck!” I tried to focus on where I thought Riggs was, over by the table, him injecting himself. My vision was like a film that had gone off it sprockets. I said, “Can’t see straight. Eyes cross-eyed. Jumping.” “It’s normal. It’ll come back. Just ride with me.” I realized he'd finished injecting himself and had laid a hand on top of my chest, then collapse on top of me. I could feel his heart pounding like it would explode. His usually alabaster skin was bright red. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” he repeated more to himself than me. He reached up and unstrapped my left wrist. I flung it over him, hugging him to me, allowing him to find my face and kissing him as deep as I could, in thankfulness and lust. “Boy,” he gasped, “you are so beautiful. I want you for myself, all for myself. Not let him....” “I want that too, Sir. I want you to fuck me and own my hole.” He looked into my face desperately. “You’d sign your hole to me? Totally give it to me to shape and to mold the way I’d want it?” “Yes. However you…” “Shhhh,” he said holding up a finger to my lips. “How’s your hole feeling now?” he asked while freeing my right arm. “Like it’s on fire. Like I need you to put something in it right now.” He slowly made it to the peg board and removed a small dildo. He sat on the stool below my ass. He sucked on my hole. For how long I couldn't tell. Time seemed meaningless. I just knew we were one obscene creature, completely connected through my asshole to his mouth and probing fingers. I drifted off in a haze of ecstatic feeling, wanting my hole to open up as much as possible for him. I pushed out and flared my anus for his examining tongue. I felt a pressure at my hole. “Push out like your shitting,” he breathed. I pushed my lips and he twisted the small dildo into my chute. Just the tip at first, but with slow, steady pressure he continued sliding it in and out. It was seamless insertion. The feeling of a foreign object continually bobbing in deeper and deeper. I was loving it. It couldn’t go in deep enough. I rocked myself against it, and finally, I felt the balls of the dildo hit my taint, not letting it go any further. He swirled it around a few times and I bucked trying to take in more. With the sling rocking, as much as I wanted to fuck myself against his object, the swinging action pushed me away every time I bounced to impale myself. “Excellent, boy. You are in such heat. I knew you'd be a big slut,” he said. He stuck three generously greased fingers easily in me, then added a fourth. “Still a little tight.” He went over to the wall and came back with a larger dildo, big and appetizing. “Same thing,” he said as he greased it up, “like you’re shitting.” He inserted the head with a pop. I felt an initial stab of pain, then once my hole accepted the girth, it became a pleasurable sense of physical and mental surrender. With each of Riggs pushes, I wanted it all. He slowly stood up, leaned into me with the dildo pushed against his groin, he fought to gain inches in my chute. “Take it boy, all of it.” With each rock of the sling, I accepted more and more. “Hungry hole, haven’t you, boy? You want to become my hole, for me to destroy how I want?” “You know it, Sir. I want every inch.” We rocked like that for a long time until it was all the way in. His face was close to mine, pinching my nipples as I squeeze his. Like I'd been running a marathon, my sweat covered the sling causing me to slide around in it. He dripped sweat on top of me sliding his slicked body on top of me. “Boy, you’re doing so good. I knew you’d love this. How do you feel?” “I can’t believe I want more. That you could stretch me open like this and make me want more.” His eyes grew darker, shadows played on his face. He left me with the dildo still inserted, and went to the pegboard. He took off a string of rubber balls, the size of tennis balls, all linked together. I couldn't keep the dildo inside any longer. I felt its slimy shaft shit out of me like a giant slug, and with a heavy thud it hit the floor. “Reach over to the table. There’s some new poppers. They'll help you take these. If we can get at least three of them in you, we should be able to pry you open like you want. It won't be easy but between us we'll get them in.” I grabbed the brown bottle while Riggs greased up the first ball and palmed a large about of Crisco in me. He rubbed it around my hole, teasing me with the first ball's girth, exciting me, titillating me, prepping me to beg for it. “Relax, tiger. It won’t go in unless you let it. Unless you want it. That's where the poppers help. You got to want it more than anything.” I took a first hit and then a second. My head collapsed into the leather pillow. “Aw. Stretch me, Sir. Wreck my hole. Give me a gaping cunt.” I could feel the pressure of him pushing the first ball against my asslips. I flared my anus for him. The popper added not just a desire to have the ball inside me but a need to have Riggs be the one to break me in. “I want it, Sir. Please make me take it.” Like taking the biggest shit in my life, it stretched me mercilessly, and with a wail it was in. My torso arched up in pain to the ceiling. I’d never had an agonizing sense of fullness like this, ever. Every muscle in my colon felt like it was being torn apart. I heard Riggs far away telling me to breathe. I tried but I still felt ripped in half. I heard him closer. "That's it, fucker, that's what it feels like. You fucking pig, you like it, don't you?" I realized I was clenching and unclenching my ass as Riggs spoke cruelly to me. Riggs was also stroking my flaccid dick, rubbing my testicles with the same grease that lubed each of the balls. I felt my loins continue to throb but now transferred additional sensation triangulated between cock, balls and cunt. My groin felt like a mass of jello, exuding pleasure and pain, somewhere between excitement of surrender and anticipation of acceptance. “Take another hit, quick,” he said. I did and Riggs pulled the first ball out making me scream again at its widest part. "Now how does your hole feel?" "Wait. Give me a second." I was still reeling from the hit. I shook my head several times. Sweat flew off my wet hair. "Empty," I said. "So empty." "Want it back, piggy. Tell me if you want that feeling back inside you." "Yes, please, put it in. Stretch me, please, Sir." "You're going to find it's much easier. Popper please." I held the bottle out for him, then took a hit myself. Before I capped the bottle, Riggs pressed the first ball in again. He was right. It popped back in with a jolt to my body, but without the never-ending torture of before. "Oh, fuck. Shit, man. Fuck!" I cried, this time riding an intense wave of pleasure almost too unbearable to take. I writhed in the sling before Riggs, showing him what a whore I could be for him. Rubbing my crotch, grabbing at his tits. Riggs like what he saw, played with my opening. He inserted a finger pushing the ball further inside. I yelped, and snuck another hit of poppers, and immediately wanted Riggs to torture me more. He laid on the balls pushing the first ball even further. I accepted how deep the first ball was going, not because there wasn't any discomfort but because watching Riggs' face, I wanted him to tear me apart inside. The stretch was Riggs stretching me, molding me like he said he would. Riggs rocked steadily against me with the second ball. I felt the first ball pressing against another barrier, still too tight to penetrate me at the moment, but Riggs motion of pushing and pulling was loosening something up. Without warning Riggs rammed the second ball inside. Caught unawares, my torso again rose, trying to eject the sudden intruder. Riggs stood above me. “Lie down, David! Listen to me. Accept it! I'm not letting it out.” I was trying to expel it but could feel Riggs' body weighing against me, blocking any possibility I would be able to shit it out. “Lie back. Relax, David. David, calm down!" He pressed my shoulders down, leaning his face over mine, his eyes completely black. "It’s staying there so accept it. Just act like you’re continuing to shit, clench around it and you’ll see it’ll settle down.” He reached up and pinched my tits. The quick jolt of pain distracted me for a brief second. Suddenly I felt my ass expand again, thinking, fuck, I’m ripping apart. I felt the first ball tearing open more space deep inside me. Staring into Riggs' face, something in him was feeding off my torment. I didn't know I could bear such exquisite agony, but he seemed to be lustfully deflating the hell I was feeling in my guts. I cried in torment. Tears welled up against the invasion. "Mercy, please. Fuck! Shit," I screamed. My tits ached as he clamped down on them. His big cock held out erect over my shriveled dick. With his body he firmly held the second ball that impotently was trying to escape. He whispered, “That's it. Take it in. Give over to it. Give it up for me. Clench hard around it. Keep clinching. Try to push it out." Without warning he allowed the second ball to explode from my asshole. Immediately I peed all over myself. The power of release wet my belly, drenched the sling. A strong stream sprayed over me. Riggs held my pee stick and soaked his face and let the steady stream wash over my face as well. “Good boy. Another hurtle. Open wide.” He directed my dick, pinched it, aimed it at my mouth, and then let it loose. “Good boy, be a piss pig. I’m so proud of you, boy. Drink it down. That’s it—your reward.” The acrid piss went down in gulps. I didn’t think, just did what Riggs wanted, so happy to have the second ball out. “Swallow, pig. Don’t think, just do it.” The salty liquid went down easily. Meanwhile, my hole had eased up on its rebellion. Occupied now with a new act of being a piss drinker for Riggs, I felt overjoyed that Riggs was proud of me. We spit mouthfuls of piss at each other. He'd drink for a while and spit it out over me and then take another sip. When I was spent, I took a hit and offered the poppers to him. He inhaled several times and gave them back to me. I felt my hole and found the string that hung out of it with the first ball still inside. I tugged it a bit and cautiously asked Riggs if I could take the second ball again. “Fuck, pigboy. Are you ready for it? I won't let you off the hook so easy this time.” I nodded but, as a safeguard, took several deep hits off the bottle. This time it went in smoothly and had an additional effect of making me begging for a few finger from Riggs. He granted my wish. “Oh, fuck, Sir. That hurts so good.” He smiled his dark smile, rocking me in the sling. With each bounce I readily accepted the punishment, waited for it, began craving it. “Pighole, ready for another one?” Riggs asked, excited by my attitude. The ease in which the second had gone it showed both of us that my hole was become more pliable, enough to stretch if the will, mine and especially Riggs, was strong enough. It wasn't intimidated by the width anymore. I knew I could take the stretch but didn't know if I had the capacity to be penetrated so early to take more depth. I was willing to try, if nothing else, to prove to Riggs I wanted what he wanted. I pulled my cheeks apart showing him I was ready. “Okay, let daddy give you a nice boycunt.” Again, he surprised me. He pushed the third entirely in but only for a second. I snarled, but before I felt the pain continuing, he pulled out the third and the second in one move. The two simultaneous expulsions sent me into an anal spasm. I was a bucking bronco in the sling. “Down, pig. Calm down. Look up and see what a hole whore you’re are.” I looked up in the mirror, and between spasms, with the last ball lodged still inside me, Riggs held up the remaining string of balls, and swung them back and forth, all the while looking at me with a sneering grin. I felt empty again, now missing that sense of fullness. “Push out the last ball for me,” he commanded. I obeyed and he quickly push it back in. Again, I pushed it out. We played a game of catch with the last ball, he pushing it in and I expelling it out. After dropping into a haze playing this game, losing count of how long we kept this up, he abruptly dropped the balls on the floor and felt up my chute. Four fingers easily slid in without resistance. He rose and put his semi-erect dick against my ass. With all the slime that had been worked up no lube was necessary. Riggs' half-mast dick slid in effortlessly and he rested his pubes against my shaved and shriveled nuts. He gently started rocking, sliding slowly in and out. “Your first fuck and no protection. You don’t mind, I can feel it.” He stopped rocking. I was in a daze, trying to put my head back together, fighting lust, pleasure, desire. “You’re unsure? Conflicted? Spell it out. Are you having second thoughts, David?” I didn't think I was hesitant but now that he stopped I had a chance to think rationally. “Um, I hadn’t thought about it till now. Maybe use a rubber? I brought some. Upstairs.” “You’re a tease, David, is that what you’re saying?" He started to slowly rock again. "You’d lead me down here and then want me to pull out while you go upstairs and find you rubbers for me to sheath myself. We'll lose everything we have. Is that really what you want?” As he was mocking me, he was also slowing growing inside me. I then began sensing an unexpected warmth filling my guts. I flinched, realizing what he was doing. “Are you peeing inside me?” He held my hips fast so he wouldn't come out of me till he finished. “Chem piss. Do you feel the recharge? You’re probably already starting to feel another hit of crystal. You want me to continue peeing in you?” “Oh, shit,” I said. The longer he pissed the hornier I became even more than before, if that was at all possible. “Aw, fuck. Yeah, fuck yeah." I looked into his black eyes and threw my head back feeling delirious. "It burns. It burns so good. I have demon cock in me. Fuck me. I want it.” I was verbally talking myself into this, whether I wanted to or not. I bucked forward, trying to ride his cock again, to get him fully aroused. "If you're not sure, we can stop. I might poz you if I stay in." Another strong burst of piss flooded my guts, so much that I started leaking around his cock, his urine ran all over the floor. He pulled out his engorged cock and covered me in piss. I opened my mouth and gulped it down. "We can call it a night. We've already done so much. Already you've been exposed." “Fuck me, man. I need to get fucked!" I pulled open my hole for him to use. Some piss squirted out. He stopped it by popping his dickhead back inside. I rocked on his dick and he accommodated me, teasing me with an inch, then another, and another, until I was fully impaled. "Oh, shit! Thank you, Sir! You're the ultimate Pig Master. I want your cum. I want you to knock me up.” “No, fuckhole," he said, increasing the pace of his thrusts. "I'm hardly the ultimate Pig Master, but thank you. That would be him.” He nodded toward a figure hidden in the shadows. “Now lay back and enjoy getting your first poz fuck. I’m not allowed to cum, am I, Mr. X? Yet. That’s Mr. X’s privilege.” As he spoke, I felt Riggs’ cock grow like steel inside me. He teased my hole with small steady strokes. Then built to a full, complete thrust of his shaft. With each full fuck, his matted, wiry pubic hair scraped against my hairless ass. He swirled around inside my ass being sure I felt every inch of him, the first man that penetrated me. As he'd promised, the copious amount of precum built a slather over and around my clipped pubes. I ran a hand between my legs reveling in the slime. With each completely out then back in balls deep fuck, there resounded a rhythmic slapping. His cadence increased, the slapping increased, and along with an occasional flash of light at the window from cars snaking down the hill, I fell into an erotic daze. I was aware of Mr. X standing there stroking himself, but I was fading in and out of consciousness. It could have been an hour, but must have been more, because when Riggs was at the height of his rhythm and his cockhead swelled inside me to its most immense size yet, I felt the first glow of daylight breaking through the high window. Riggs looking pained, almost crying, almost laughing, giving a final grand, glorious fuck in my ass, pulled out and jacked enough of a wad to shoot covering my face in sperm. He covered my chest and cock in ropes of sperm spewing out of him. After the first splashed my face, the remainder drooled and mixed with the mess in my crotch. He rested his spent, dripping cock over mine. Inside me, without Riggs holding it back, I felt a reservoir of ass juice beginning to leak out, first in a tiny drip then a steady stream of the remaining chem piss squirting onto his legs. Riggs rubbed a hand across the spray and wiped the juice over my face. I looked up in the mirror at my reflection. A fine sweat covered my skin, glistening in the growing light. I was shaking, not from cold, but from the drugs and over-stimulation coursing through my body. I suppose I should have been shocked with the dark figure approaching, or the fever from the drugs, or Riggs wiping my face with sludge, but I wasn’t. I saw how large and black my own pupils were. I was enjoying every degrading second of being here. “This is the Boy Scout?” said the dark figure, coming forward on my right. He was wearing a leather vest, and nothing more, stroking a very mean looking erection. I couldn’t help stare at it. He switched on an overhead fluorescent light. It was suddenly way too bright. It whited out the room. Yet for one passing second I caught a glimpse of the metal adorning his cock. I waited for a moment for my eyes to adjust. I focused back on him and saw a single orange-tipped needle poke out of his vest pocket. “Glad you made it, Mr. X,” Riggs said wheezing, wiping sweat from his forehead with the hair on my leg. He fingered some cum on my chest and fed it to me. I thought nothing of sucking Riggs' fingers. Mr. X said nothing, but took my right arm and put it into the cuff above, then reached across to bind my left wrist, leaving the ample black bush of his armpit covering my face, long enough to let his pheromones seep into me. It was pungent, like the piss stench of a homeless man, and something else, acrid, musky, fetid. “I’d say a slam for me and the boy, and we can get down to business.” I licked my lips and tasted him. My withered dick gave a twinge of arousal.

2. Jon "Got a package for you," the guard said. I looked up from my phone to see Hector looking at me. I hoped it was the package I had been expecting. It was an important part of my plans for Seth's party, and I had been worried it wouldn╒t get here in time for the weekend. "Thanks," I said. "It's in the back." Hector said. I felt a knot in my stomach. I knew where this was leading. "And where's Cal been? I haven't seen him for a few days." I had just come from the gym, and the workout had left me not just sweaty, but also horny. Still, I wasn't sure if I was ready for Hector. "He's been in Austin for work this week," I said. "Too bad," Hector said. "I've been missing him." Hector rubbed his crotch. There was no doubt why the burly Latino was missing Cal. Cal was usually the one who satisfied Hector's needs. Hector was the prototypical security guard, insecure and eager to assert his authority. Mixed with a deep insecurity about his sexuality, it was a toxic combination and it was reflected in his approach to sex. He was rough and aggressive, with a tendency to be very verbal and abusive. More than once, Cal had come up to the apartment with tears streaming down his face and bruises on his body. With Cal away, the job of satisfying Hector's dark, uncut cock was going to fall to me. "Me too," I said, as Hector motioned for me to head to the storage room in the back. The security guard put up a sign "Back in ten minutes." Not that he cared when he got back, but it would help to bound the experience. "He's back late tonight." "Yeah?" he said. "But my shift ends at 7:00." It was going to be me pleasuring him tonight. I couldn't tell if Hector was in a good mood or not, but it didn't matter. His cock was already stirring. As far as his penis was concerned, it didn't matter what I wanted. All that mattered was what Hector needed. He opened the door to the storage room. "Can't last that long?" It was my cock talking. As soon as I said it, I regretted it. Hector could barely control his sexuality, and never joked about it. I sometimes wondered if what Cal and I did for him was a safety valve, letting him release his tensions in a controlled way with participants that at least knew what they were getting into. I walked into the storage room. It was not the first time I had been in it, but it had been several months since the last time. As always, there was the single flickering fluorescent bulb, barely illuminating the room. Against the far wall, the locked cage ran the width of the room. It had only been a few weeks ago that I had come home and had to claim Cal from the cage. He bruised and bloodied from Hector's "games." Luckily, I had only been in the cage once, and I shivered at the memory. I wondered once again what I had just volunteered for. As I looked around the room, I noticed something new, a ratty old mattress, stained and dirty. It was in one corner of the cage. It was hard to tell if being thrown on the dirty mattress was a better outcome than just lying on the cold floor. "Shut up faggot," Hector said. It wasn't the words but the tone that hammered home the reality of the situation. Even though I was scared of what would happen next, my cock was playing traitor as it lengthened and hardened in my jeans. "On your knees." I fell to the ground in a motion that felt more like an involuntary reflex than a choice. I looked up at the Latino. He was smiling, the bulge in his khakis painfully obvious. Reverentially, he undid his belt. For him, it was a symbol of his power, and therefore, it required the utmost respect. I had watched the first time Cal had casually tossed it aside. The welts on his ass took two weeks to fully disappear. "You know what to do cocksucker," he said. I nodded and undid his pants, exposing a pair of white briefs, already stretched nearly to breaking point by his uncut cock. I pulled down his briefs, and his cock sprang free. It was thick, dark and despite how hard he was, the head was still covered by his foreskin. I would be lucky if Hector would use any lube to make the fuck bearable, much less some poppers or tina to make it fun. The Latino approached fucking as a zero-sum game, where any pleasure I got was less pleasure he got. For Hector, even me sucking his cock was an excuse to find new ways to get me to gag. I opened my mouth, taking the very tip of his cock into my body. Gently, I probed under his foreskin. If I knew Hector, he had spent most of the afternoon surfing the Internet for porn. The big breasts and wet cunts he had found had made him drip a bit, and the pre-cum had accumulated under his cockhood. "Oh fuck yeah, cocksucker. Lick up that sweat," he grunted, shoving his cock a bit further into my mouth. "Mmmmph," I said, working my way down his thick shaft. The entire encounter had happened so fast that I didn't really have a chance to get into the right headspace. From our idle chatter in the lobby to me on my knees sucking his cock, it had been barely five minutes. Nevertheless, my mood did not matter. I had to deep-throat the Latino. Hector hated any other lube than spit, so deep throating him was essential. My saliva would be my only respite from his ass pounding. "All the way down, faggot," he said. "Make my cock happy." I exhaled and focused on the cock already pressing against the back of my throat. "Yeah, it'll make your throat sore. But you like that." Hector grabbed the back of my head. "Come on. How many times have you done this before?" I didn't want to count; that would involve re-living the most extreme moments. I remembered the time he had practically choked me with his dick. He pulled it out only seconds before I blacked out. "Do it," he said, forcing my head down on his manhood. "Uuuuugh," I moaned, as the thick head forced itself into my throat. I had to take it, but every ounce of my being rebelled against the humiliation of his utter domination of my throat. "Eeease?" I grunted, begging him to let up on me. "Fucking feels so good cocksucker," he said. "No way am I gonna give up on this." He held my head in place; my nose rubbing against his closely trimmed pubes. There was the faint scent of soap, and the much stronger odor of sweat. In other words, he smelled like a man. He thrust his hips forward, forcing his steel shaft further in my mouth. "I know faggot. You can't get enough of a real man's cock." I looked up at him, silent and desperate. He was staring down at me, smiling broadly. His cock twitched, delivering a payload of pre-cum that landed straight in my stomach. He knew that every movement of his body was another ordeal as I struggled to accommodate his thickness. My obvious discomfort at sucking his cock only made him harder. Suddenly, he yanked his cock out of my throat and mouth. The removal was almost worse than the original penetration. But, the spasms subsided quickly once his cock was out of my mouth. "Stand up," he said, stepping back. He had decided that his cock was wet and hard enough to shove into my ass. I stood up quickly. "Bend over," he said. I bent over, leaning my weight against one of the shelves. It was full of packages waiting to be picked up. "Lower," he said, motioning me to rest against only the second shelf from the bottom. I stood up long enough to kick off my pants, then forced myself in the awkward and revealing posture he had demanded. As ambivalent as he might have been about gay sex, Hector still knew exactly what he was doing. By forcing me to brace myself against the lower shelf, I had to spread my legs wide, which forced my ass up. I could feel the chill of cool air against my hole. It reminded me just how exposed and vulnerable I had let myself become. In the position I had now assumed, there was no way for me to resist Hector's inevitable attack. My hole was exposed and ready for him to penetrate. The sudden chill awoke something dark and evil lurking within my body. I was no stranger to the passions of my virus. At the worst moments, it would stir, and assert itself. It wanted companionship, and it knew the best way to get it was through fluid exchange. Now aroused it asserted itself and made my only thought the need to get fucked. Hector grabbed onto my waist with one hand, and spat on his cock. Even when he had the time, he hated lube. "You know. Spit is all that a cocksucker deserves." He positioned his dick against my hole, pausing for a moment. "Let me in," he said, as he pressed harder and forced himself into me. As he entered, his foreskin peeled back, exposing his swollen cockhead. At least there was a bit of pre-cum to lubricate his penetration, but it was hardly enough. Not that it mattered. My virus was in control now and it wanted cum even more than Hector needed to drain his balls. I grunted, shifting my weight to try to get into a better position. "Stay cocksucker," he said, using his free hand hold me in place. "This is how I want it." I stopped squirming. I could feel each millimeter of his cock as it pressed into ass. Since I had no chance to prepare, his dick was a burning poker invading me. I moaned, more from pain than any kind of pleasure. "That's a real man in your ass," he said. He pushed further into me, the skin of his shaft rubbing against the tender walls of my ass. I closed my eyes, dreaming of even a drop of lube to make it easier to bear. "It's the kind of cock you dream about, faggot." "So fucking tight," Hector said. His cock was only seven or eight inches long, but it was thick. He was stretching me out. "Almost all in." I allowed myself a breath and forced myself to relax even more. Unfortunately, like Hector, the virus did not believe in pleasure. All it wanted that afternoon was another man in me, another chance to get re-infected. As I exhaled, his cock slid deeper into me and his thick pubes brushed against my buttocks. "It's all the way in, cocksucker," he said, and almost immediately, pulled back out. "Now the fun can really begin." I gasped, only to be rewarded with another hard thrust back into my hole. This time, it was at an angle and his dickhead rubbed against fresh parts of my hole. Hector was trying to find the sweet spot that maximized both his pleasure my discomfort. He knew what he was doing, and quickly found a rhythm of thrusts, parries, and withdrawals that left me breathless and sweating. He now had both hands on my waist and held me in place. It meant there was no relief for my aching thighs or sore ass. The only relief was that he was dripping pre-cum into me. If we kept this up long enough, I would be properly lubricated, and his fucking wouldn't be quite as harrowing. "Oh yeah," Hector said. "Almost there, cocksucker." "Please," I moaned. I wasn't sure if the voice was me begging for the fuck to end, or my virus, begging for his load. My arms were getting tired from supporting myself and pushing back against his pounding. His pre-cum was making his thrusts a little more bearable, but each one was still a painful reminder of his utter dominance over me. "Please," I grunted again. "Faggot begging for a man's load," Hector said. "Fucking the way the world should work." He slammed his cock deep into my hole and held it there. Of course, this was the moment where he had opened me up and lubricated me enough that his thrusts were no longer painful. He knew how to time it perfectly; when it became even slightly pleasurable for me, it was time for the encounter to end. "Fucking taking my load." His shaft throbbed. "Fucking breeding that faggot hole." The first spurt of cum was like a bullet, colliding with my body, lodging itself deep. Three more spurts followed in quick succession, each punctuated by a grunt of pleasure. As he filled me, my virus was briefly satiated. I no longer had the utter compulsion for sperm. I had a shining moment of clarity and was able to see myself in perfect understanding. Unfortunately, I was still bent over, practically naked, with another man's semen dripping out of my ass. It was not how I wanted to imagine myself. Afterwards, he paused for a moment, slowly working his load into my ass. "Hope JP likes sloppy seconds, faggot," he said. He pulled his cock out quickly, sending fresh bolts of pain through my body. Before I could even recover, he had put his dick back in his briefs, pulled up his pants and re-adjusted his belt. "Your package is there, cocksucker," he said, pointing to a small box practically covered in shipping labels in English and Chinese. He slapped my ass. It was harder than it needed, and I only barely caught myself from crashing into the shelf. "Clean your self up and take it." With nary another word, Hector left the storage room, leaving me still mostly naked, bent over, with a few drops of his seed dripping out of my ass. I stood up slowly, trying not to move too fast and cause my aching muscles to enter spasms of protest. I pulled on my underwear and pants, and grabbed the package Hector had pointed to. When I stepped out of the storage room, Hector was already back at his desk. I could see a picture of a naked woman on his screen, her legs spread and her fingers sliding into her cunt. He made no acknowledgement of my presence as I walked to the elevators. In the elevator, I shook the box, but there was no sound to reveal anything about the contents. It was both re-assuring and nerve-wracking. It had been a very complex order, and I was terrified that it would get messed up in critical ways. The elevator quickly took me up the fifty-odd floors to the condo, dropping me off in the foyer. I kicked off my shoes, and headed to the kitchen. "Hello?" I called out. Cal was still away, but I hoped that Jean-Paul had beaten me back home. "Welcome home," Jean-Paul called back. It sounded like he was in the living room. "I'm in the kitchen, JP," I said. I found a pair of scissors, and started to carefully cut the packing tape from the box. "What's in the box?" I looked up to see JP standing in the doorway. He was wearing a pair of sweat pants and nothing else. "Gym, then shower. Didn't see much point in getting fully dressed again." I could jus barely see his penis outlined in the sweats. It reminded me of what I had just done. It also reminded me that Hector's cum had only partially satiated my needs. "No complaints about that here," I said. JP's cock grew slightly in his sweat pants. I opened the box, and pulled out a few sheets of Chinese newspaper, and extracted two bags stuffed full of oblong blue pills. I had ordered about 300 of them; eyeballing the bags, it looked about right. JP walked over to me, pressing his body against mine. He was warm and the contours of his body were infinitely familiar and comfortable. "I thought those were Viagra," he said. "But Truvada?" "Well, kind of," I said. I pulled out another bag; this one was just as full. "These are for our boy tomorrow night." "Seth?" JP asked. "Yeah." I opened one of the bags, and extracted a pill. "Sugar pills," I said. "We'll replace his with the fakes." I had the idea several months earlier, in the quiet, dark hours of the night when the only ones awake were the ones driven by demons too powerful for mortals to defeat. That night, my demons had been crystal meth and three unknown, erect men. "Fuck," JP said. "You're a twisted fucker." He was now pressed up against my back. I could feel his cock grow as he thought through the implications of what I had just said. We would be fucking Seth raw and Seth, of course, would let us inject him full of our poz cum. He thought the pills he was taking would protect him. But he would be wrong. It would be just like a good old-fashioned stealthing, only far more dark, evil and perverted. "I learned from the best," I said. I pulled out one last bag. This one had only about 30 white tablets in them. "And those?" "Just some molly." "And the student becomes the master," JP said. "Well, even so, maybe you can give me a refresher course," I said. His cock was pressed against my back. Even though Hector had just fucked me, the virus was insistent. It needed more. It especially needed a poz man's sperm. "You sure?" JP asked. "We gotta save something for Seth, you know." "One last one?" I asked. I was already undoing my belt, racing to get out of my clothes. "I guess," JP said. He pushed down his sweats, letting his cock spring free. I finally got my pants off, and started to unbutton my shirt. "I can probably manage one load for you, my needy man." "You have no idea," I said. I wanted JP's cock. I needed his poz cum. "I think I know you well enough to know how badly you need cock." "Hector," I started. "You already have a load up there?" JP asked. He loved it when I came pre-seeded. I tossed my shirt into a corner, and nodded. "Yeah." "Oh hell yeah," JP said. "You need another load up that hot, greedy hole of yours?" "Fuck yeah," I said. "You need a recharge? Get you primed and ready for our innocent boy tomorrow night?" "I do." JP lifted me onto the kitchen table. The wood was warm against my skin, but as JP buried his face in my ass, I barely even noticed where I was. "Mmmm," he said. His tongue was probing my hole, darting in and out of me. He was trying to find the hidden pockets of cum that were still in my hole. "I can taste his cum." "Are you still?" I asked. "Off meds?" JP replied. After so many years together, we didn't need to complete sentences to know what the other was thinking. "Yeah," he continued. "It's been about a week now." "You must be pretty potent by now." "I hope so. For Seth's sake. Tonight, however, it's all yours." He stood up and spun me around. My head was now hanging off the side of the table, his erection standing up stiffly in front of me. It was beautiful, familiar presence; I had long ago lost track of all the times we had fucked. "Come on," he said, putting his warm hands on the side of my head, and gently holding me in place as he pushed his cock towards me. "Suck my cock. Get me hard," he said, as if he wasn't already hard enough. "Fucking beautiful cock," I said. "Beautiful, AIDS-infected cock." "It infected you," JP said. "It did." I replied. I opened my mouth and took the very tip of his cock. I barely brushed my tongue across it, but even so could taste the intense, bitter taste of his pre-cum. He had always tasted bitter, but it was not an unpleasant taste. Like a fine Islay scotch, it had grown on me and I reveled in its complexities and changes as his health and viral load ebbed and flowed. It took only one taste for me to realize how potent he was. Tomorrow he would be even more deadly. The drugs we all took worked extremely well, and when JP stopped them, his virus came back with a vengeance. JP's high viral load would be an added reward for Seth this weekend, albeit one he would not have chosen for himself. "I can taste the virus in your pre-cum," I said. "I know," JP said. "I can tell you love it." He was right. It reminded me of when we were first dating and when HIV was far scarier. JP had been there for me, helping me accept his poz cock and take his infected loads. He had been there for me when I had gotten sick, fucking me repeatedly to make sure I was sure to convert. It was so perfect that he had done it to me. Even now, I would jerk off thinking about those weeks. JP was pushing his cock deeper into my mouth and soon he was pressing against the back. I swallowed and let him enter my throat. Although JP was thick, I had gotten used to him. There were only a few seconds of discomfort before I acclimated to his familiar girth. "That's right, boy. Take it all." "Please," I murmured, as best I could with his cock buried in my throat. I wanted him to force his cock into me and to take me once more. He was only a few years older than me, but his hair was already the perfect mixture of salt and pepper. I thought it was hot; it made him even more of the daddy he already was. "Fuck me," I grunted, staring at the black and white hair of his pubes. He held my head in place as he pushed his cock deeper into me. Although I should have expected it, the first time was still a surprise. I forced myself to adjust to it, fighting back the urge to gag. "Come on, take it," JP said. "Take my diseased cock." I closed my eyes and relaxed. Before I knew it, my lips were pressed up against the base of his dick, and my nose was nestled against his heavy balls. This was one of the most perfect configurations for two men to be in: one man buried deep in the throat of another man. Just as soon as I had gotten used to it, and right as I began to savor it, JP pulled his cock out. But immediately, he sunk it right back into me. I was surprised by how forceful he was, and once more had to force myself not to gag. JP usually took his time and let me get used to him. But tonight, there was urgency in his actions. "Fuck," JP said. "I'm not sure what's into me tonight. I gotta get off." He pulled his cock out again. It was as hard as it ever was, and was now dripping wet from my spit. "The virus is in your brain," I said. "It needs to spread." "You're right," he said. He let go of my head and stepped back. "Wanna go to the bedroom?" he asked me. I pulled myself up and sat on the counter. "You going to breed me? Make me your infected poz man?" "My diseased husband," he said, smiling. He extended his hand. I grabbed it, and followed him into the bedroom. In the bedroom, he grabbed my other arm and tossed me onto the bed. Jon-Paul was six inches taller than me, and at least fifty pounds heavier. All of that extra weight was muscle. When we wrestled, I always lost. "You are going to get fucked good," he said. "Infected with some new strain of virus." "I hope so," I said. I pushed the covers back, leaned up against the pillows, and spread my legs. "All yours, my poisonous stud." JP got on the bed, and knelt between my legs. I handed him a bottle of lube. "You think you need this?" he asked. "Don't you already have another man's cum up there?" I nodded. "Just a bit," I said. "I guess," JP said. He grabbed one of my legs and pushed me back, exposing my hole even more. He squeezed a bit of the lubricant out of the bottle, directly onto my hole. "You've got a drop of cum leaking out," he said. Pre-seeded holes were one of his biggest turn-ons; his eyes were wide and eager to pound my hole. He poured a thin bead of the fluid onto his erection and gave it a few strokes. "I'm a slimepit," I said. "I know." "Not yet," JP said. He had navigated his cock to my hole, and it was now pressing against me insistently. By now, after all the years together we knew each other's bodies completely and instinctively. Even tweaked up, in a dark maze, I could always steer my cock directly into JP's throat. He had the same navigation talents when it came to my body. "One load does not a cumdump make, much less a slime pit." "You need to fix that," I said. Before I could say anything else, he pushed his cock into me. I gasped, from a perfect mixture of surprise, delight, and discomfort. As JP started to find a rhythm of fucking me, the surprise and discomfort disappeared and all that remained was pleasure. JP leaned in and gave me a kiss. "I can feel that load inside you," he said, before pushing his tongue back into my mouth. "How many loads is Seth going to get?" he asked. "As many as we can give him," I said. "As many as it takes to infect him." "But he thinks this is perfectly safe? That PrEP is going to protect him?" "Yeah," I said. I clenched my ass tight around JP's cock, wanting to milk out more of his toxic pre-cum. "And he thinks all of us are on meds." "Other than you, me and Cal, who's coming?" JP licked my ear, sending waves of pleasure over my body, all of them converging on my hole. "Ohhh, baby," he murmured as he felt my hole twitch. "Just us tomorrow night," I replied, trying to ignore the pleasure I was feeling. "Pizza, poppers, and pozzing." "You mean supper, smoke, and stealthing, right?" "Hell yeah," I said. "Then, Saturday, we've got Jesse, Max, Dennis, Nathan and Jason and Sean and Vic." "How much cock is this boy going to take? Max and Sean and Vic are pretty big." "You're at least as big as all of them," I said. I reached down and grabbed his muscular ass. I pulled him closer. It gave me a chance to feel his hairy chest rub against mine, but also get another half inch of cock in me. "And you said Dennis and Jesse as well?" I nodded. "They've been off drugs for how long?" "Resistant for Dennis. Jesse never even took them." "That's right. But it's like bringing a nuclear warhead to a high school wrestling match. He doesn't stand a chance." I nodded again. Dennis had stopped drugs a few months ago, when his virus became resistant to one of the medicines. The last time I had seen him, he had been gaunt and slow, like all his energy was being sucked up by the virus. But the disease had not affected his cock; it was as hard and powerful as ever. Jesse, on the other hand, still looked like the model he once was, albeit with a bit of grey in his goatee. He had never taken drugs at all. He thought they interrupted the universe's master plan, in which his disease was a small part of some grand and perfect design. "But what about you?" I asked. "I tasted your pre-cum tonight. If they are a nuclear weapon, you're a fucking neutron bomb." "You could tell?" JP asked. He slowed down his insistent pounding, and kissed me. "That's fucking hot." I could. It wasn't very accurate, but he tasted metallic, almost poisonous when his viral load was high. "Yeah," I said. "You know I can. And from your precum tonight, you're a deadly stud of a man." "All the better to infect my special studs with. All the best for our special guest this weekend." "Yeah, and speaking of special guests, Tina will also be making an appearance on Saturday. Vic said he would hook us up." "Drugs and sex, and poz men?" JP asked. "Everything after this weekend is going to be a let down for Seth." "Yeah," I said, laughing. "You're probably right." "Another let down?" JP asked. I nodded. "Cal's gonna get home and there's going to be no cum left for him." "It's going to be even worse this weekend. He's gonna be a hungry boy by the end, seeing Seth get all the loads." "And he's gonna be even more jealous of the load Hector gave you." He pressed his dick into me, finding another reservoir of the Latino's jizz. "So fucking hot, you taking that load, and bringing it home for me to fuck into you." "I want to be your slut," I said. "I know. But you have such a nice cock yourself. You shouldn't deny men the pleasure of it." "Nor my load." "Your foul, polluted cum," JP said. He reached down and grabbed my cock. It was rock-hard, and already dripping some pre-cum. He rubbed his finger in the slick fluid, and then put the finger in his mouth. "But still so sweet. The drugs are working?" "Yeah, last test was about a month ago and I was all clean." "Except for your mind," JP said. "The boy has no clue what he's getting himself into." "A nest of vipers," I said. "Deadly vipers." "And this viper is getting ready to bite." "Shoot its venom into me," I said. JP had been playing with both my body and my mind. Between his fucking and his dirty talk, he had pushed me into a dark headspace, where I almost believed that his cock was a thick, fat snake. It was biding its time and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. "Oh fuck yeah," JP grunted as he shoved his snake into my hole. "Gonna breed my man's slut hole." He was still for a moment, enjoying the sensation of his cockhead swimming in Hector's load. He exhaled. At the same moment, his cock swelled and spurted. His cum shot out of his dick, into my waiting ass. "Take my AIDS cum," he moaned. "Give it to me," I said. "Re-charge my hole." "Hell yeah," JP said. His hips were thrusting into me again, smearing his fresh cum against my hole while at the same time, working Hector's load into me as well. Each thrust was marked by another throb of his cock as he ejaculated more of his virus-ridden sperm into me. "Can't ever get enough of you." "I'm jealous of every load I don't get," I said. "I know." He leaned in and started to kiss me. "You are still my favorite. And each year, you only get hotter." As JP's orgasm faded, we continued to make out. We each were constantly adjusting our position, making sure that JP's cock stayed in me. But, eventually, JP began to get soft and my legs got sore. "Dinner?" he whispered in my ear. "Sure," I said. We slowly disentangled, finding excuses to slap each other's balls, nibble on a nipple, or just make out that left us in bed another fifteen minutes. Finally we stood up and we each pulled on a pair of sweats. I took a piss, and JP headed to the kitchen. The rest of the evening was uneventful. JP made dinner, we curled up on the couch and watched some TV, and then we went to bed. Around midnight, we were momentarily awoken by Cal coming back and crawling in between us. I wrapped my arms around the lanky young man and nestled my erect penis between his muscular ass cheeks. I quickly fell back to sleep, dreaming of an angry virus, desperate to spread itself to every unsuspecting, horny man.

‘Do You Want Me to Stop?’ I was headed out of town for a conference to London. I’d managed to get my company to pay for the flights, and to be able to stay on a few days afterwards to get a bit of a vacation. My boy was planning on flying out on the next night of the conference and spending a few days sightseeing with me. We’d both been working hard lately, and were looking forward to some time together. We’d even done a bit of research into the raunchier gay clubs, thinking maybe we could have some naughty fun together in a public setting. I was running late trying to get out of the office to the airport, and I barely made it through security before the flight closed. We started taxiing shortly after I buckled my seat belt. The flight was choppy to say the least, and I was super stressed. A very sexy flight attendant could see how tense I was just from my shoulders. This guy was a real Hunk. He leaned forward telling me that we should keep in touch after the plane landed and he was off-duty. ‘I’d like to help you relax,’ he said as he pushed a card with his number into my hand and stroked my arm. I was practically sore all over, and groggy from having not slept well, by the time we touched down at Heathrow. As the sun rose, I headed for the tube into town for my morning presentation. I felt a body press into mine from behind as I stood on the platform, and it was my Hunk, the flight attendant. He was taller than I remembered, over six feet, with broad shoulders and a tiny waist. Blond spiky hair framed his chiseled face. We made small talk as we boarded the train, crowded with morning commuters. I was drowsy from not sleeping on the turbulent flight and found myself dozing off with my head against his muscular chest. I apologized, and told him we should make a plan for that night after the conference wore down. The presentations went well, if uneventful, and I headed to check into my hotel. I messaged the Hunk, and we made plans for him to pick me up and we could grab a light dinner, then maybe back to my place or his to relax. We went out dancing, and I could tell he was packing a big cock from the lump in his trousers. We ate quickly as we chatted about what turned each other on. He told me he had trained to be a masseur and liked to practice whenever he could. He held out his massive hands, and I swear I started to drip precum. He told me that he charged all of his clients… I asked what his fees were, and they seemed reasonable. £50- for an hour sounded fair, plus extras… I stayed hard wondering what the extras were. We got back to my hotel, and the Hunk wrapped his arm around me as he winked at the concierge, who winked back with a knowing look. Back in my room and tore each other’s clothes off. He had me lay down on the bed with a pillow under my chest. I shivered as he started working my shoulders with his masculine hands, then lower to my shoulder blades, then the small of my back, then my ass. He cupped my cheeks and pulled them apart, exposing my hole. He crouched lower and started blowing air across my asshole. I instinctively tightened up. He told me he’d loosen me up for another £10-. I breathlessly nodded assent, and he started lapping at my ass. I knew I was making a puddle on the bedspread. He pulled his whole hair body against my back, with his thick uncut cock right between the clefts of my cheeks. ‘£10- more and I’ll put the tip in… Sound good, lover?’ I grunted approval, not thinking to stop and ask for a condom. Thankfully, he had got me pretty wet with spit and the head of his dick eased into me. I moaned as he twisted my head around, ‘£10- more and I’ll kiss you.’ I grunted and he slipped his tongue into my mouth. I knew he was deeper in me than just the tip, and that he was raw. I could feel my ass getting wetter, so I knew he was drooling precum into me. ‘£20- more and I’ll fuck you until you ask me to stop…’ ‘Okay!’ I shouted. He reared back and pulled my hips to his groin. My Hunk pounded my raw ass. The sound of sweaty flesh-on-flesh smacking as his balls slammed into me sent me in orbit. It had been a long time since I’d been fucked, and a long time since someone other than my boy had fucked me raw. ‘You’ll tell me when you want me to stop, right?’ I nodded and he maintained his pace. ‘You know I swap loads with guys all over the world, right? Do you want me to stop?’ I shook my head no and his pace picked up. ‘I love taking and sharing my seed with guys… and I’m carrying a charged load… do you want me to stop?’ I nodded no again, realizing that I was already lubed with his charged precum, so why stop now? My Hunk plowed me for a few more minutes, jack-hammering his thick cock into me. My mind reeled, knowing how risky it was to take a charged stranger’s load. I wondered what my boy would think if he could see me like this. Would it turn my boy on, or freak him out? The Hunk’s head shot back as he started cumming, firing his charged load into my hole, forcing it deeper and deeper with every thrust. He flung himself down onto me again, still filling my ass with his cock, sliding gently back and forth. He groaned, pawing his big hands through my tousled hair, ‘That’ll be £100-, please…’ I reached over to the bedside table and pulled out a crisp new note. He took it, and pulled out, leaving a squelching plop noise and my gaping well-fucked, well-bred sticky ass. He dressed and left quickly. I called my boy and told him I’d just had a massage, leaving out the detail that my ass was full to the brim with charged seed. My boy was at the airport getting ready to board the plane to London. He thought that a massage sounded fun, and asked if I could book him the same guy for tomorrow. Fuck, what was I going to tell him, I wondered, as I fell asleep. My boy arrived the next morning, having slept soundly on the flight. He came to my hotel and unpacked a bit while I got ready for the day’s presentations at my conference. I told him that my masseur was unavailable, and we should try to find someone else for him, suggesting we ask at reception for a masseur, and I headed out. I got a message around lunch that he’d managed to get a recommendation from the concierge, and a masseur was coming over. I was glad he’d get a bit of relaxation in, and we made plans to go out on the town that night. A few hours later, I messaged him letting him know I’d be back soon. My boy replied that the masseur was nearly finished and they were having a great time. ‘He’s really sexy,’ the text read, ‘and really affordable. Only £50- plus more for extras…’ It dawned on me that the concierge had set my boy up with my charged Hunk. I then received a message from the Hunk asking ‘Do you want me to stop?’ I took a breath and replied ‘I’ll bring £100-. Don’t stop until you’re finished…’

I discovered public toilets during my first year at university. I had been brought up in a very religious community in the north of Scotland and when I came down to Glasgow to start university I had just turned 18. I loved everything about living in the city. I had very little sexual experience and in many ways I was quite innocent but I masturbated frequently, thinking about fit lads and their cocks and balls and arses. I suppose I knew that things sometimes went on in public toilets but I had never really thought about it. Then one afternoon I didn't feel like studying so I went for a walk. I walked right through Kelvingrove Park and out the other end and after a while I came to another park which had a public toilet near the entrance. Genuinely needing to pee, I went in.... I knew as soon as I went in that something was going on. A cubicle door was shut quickly and I saw someone disappearing round the side to the sink area. An older guy was standing at the urinal and as I began to piss I sensed he was looking at me. I finished pissing but didn't put my cock away. Nothing happened for a minute or two and then the older guy turned towards me, showing me his hard cock I was shitting myself, but I turned towards him and showed him my cock and before long we were both wanking. He moved towards me and took hold of my cock. It was all I could do to stop myself shooting my load there and then but as he started to wank me, a cubicle door opened behind us. I turned round and saw a blond lad about my own age sitting on the toilet, his pants and trousers at his ankles and just then another guy came round from the sink area and went and stood in front of him. The older guy stopped wanking and went and stood in front of the cubicle, motioning to me to follow him. I really wanted to see what was happening so I followed him and soon I was watching the young lad suck the other guy's cock. I was more turned on than I had ever been and soon I had my cock out again, wanking as I watched the guy come in the young lad's mouth. When he had finished coming, he zipped himself out and left. I thought the show was over but the young lad motioned to me to come and stand in front of him. I hesitated for a moment but the older guy pushed me gently towards the young lad and soon my cock was in his mouth and I was being sucked off for the very first time. I cant tell you how good it felt and I knew I wouldn't last very long. The older guy was standing right behind me and I didn't stop him when he pulled my pants down to my knees and began to play with my arse, pulling my cheeks apart and fingering my arse hole. When he wet his finger and pushed it right up my hole I lost it and blew my load right into the young lad's mouth. I was out of there in seconds, mortified by what I had done but also more turned on than I had ever been. I remembered my upbringing and vowed to myself that I would never to anything like that again. That vow lasted about a week and then I was back there. I got sucked off again and enjoyed every minute of it. I started going there regularly and sucked my first cock in there. One afternoon the blond lad who had sucked me off was in there again. This time he was bent over the toilet being fucked by an older guy. I watched and wanked as the guy came up his arse and, though I had the chance to take my turn fucking him, I just wasn't quite ready to do that yet so I watched and wanked as another guy fucked him and shot my load down the tiles of the cubicle wall as he too shot his load up the young blond lad. A few weeks later I was in a toilet I had discovered near the university and I was sucking off a tall dark haired guy. He told me he lived nearby and asked me if I wanted to come back to his flat and fuck him. I liked him - he was tall and geeky looking, early to mid 30s and I liked his smile so I said yes and followed him to his flat. Soon I was sucking his cock again and then he pulled me up and we both stripped off (my first time naked with another guy!) and carried on sucking each other. Then he asked me to fuck him and laid back on the bed with his legs in the air. I was very horny but also quite nervous and somehow I just couldn't quite get my cock up him. I thought he would laugh at me but he was very patient with my fumbling attempts to get my cock up his arse. Smiling, he suggested "Let me make it easier for you." With that he turned round and knelt on the bed, pushing his arse towards me and pulling his cheeks apart. I stood behind him and pushed. This time my cock went right up him and I began to fuck. I wanted the feeling to last forever but I knew it wouldn't be too long before I blew my load. He sensed I was getting close and told me to fuck him harder and cum in his arse. Shooting my cum up him was the best feeling ever and as I walked back to my Halls of Residence I was on top of the world - I had finally done it!! I was growing in confidence now and a week or so later I slipped my cock up another lad in a toilet and fucked him. I knew I was ready to be fucked but so far, despite quite a few offers, I hadn't let anyone fuck my virgin 18 year old arse hole. One day I was in a toilet cubicle with another student and I was lubed and bent over the toilet. He was just about to push his cock up me when there was a disturbance outside - some drunk guy was shouting so we thought it better to zip up and get out of there before he came in. I was a bit disappointed, but I knew now it wouldn't be too long before I took a cock in my arse. A week or so later I was in a toilet in a park in the north of Glasgow. I had discovered it a few weeks before and had had some really horny experiences in there. It was dirty, with cobwebs and boarded up windows and smelt of piss but it was rapidly becoming one of my favourite haunts. Most of the action took place round the corner in the sink area and one afternoon I was in there sucking off an older guy. We were joined by another lad - a fit builder lad in a sweatshirt and trackie bottoms which were splashed with paint and plaster. He pulled out his cock so I began to suck him, moving between him and the older guy. I really fancied the builder lad and enjoyed every minute of sucking his fat cock. As I sucked him, the older guy pulled me up and unzipped my trousers, pulling them down along with my pants. I was so turned on sucking the builder lad that I didn't stop him when he started wanking me and fingering my arse hole, even when I felt him rubbing some lube into my hole. I felt the head of his cock pushing against my hole and instinctively I spread my legs further and pushed back. After a couple of failed attempts, his cock slid up my virgin bum hole - I was being fucked! It hurt at first, of course, but after a fairly short time I began to really enjoy it. I didn't really fancy the guy who was fucking me but I loved the fact that he was doing it as I sucked off the fit builder lad. I wondered what my family would say if they could see me, pants down in dirty public toilet being fucked by a total stranger. Somehow this thought made me even hornier and when the older guy shot his cum into me and pulled out I turned round and offered my arse to the builder lad. He didn't hesitate and soon I was being fucked for the second time. His cock was bigger but I managed to take it. He fucked me hard and fast and soon I was taking a second load of cum up my no longer virgin hole. As I walked back through the park I felt as if my hole was gaping and I wasn't sure I could stop the cum sliding out. Then I thought "why not?" and pushed. Two loads of cum slid out my arse into my underpants and when I got back to my room in the Halls of Residence my pants were sopping wet with spunk and again I felt on top of the world. The next time I went back to that toilet I noticed a breakdown truck parked near the park entrance. When I went into the toilet a young, dark haired guy in mechanic's overalls was standing at the urinal. Soon we were wanking together and before too long we were in a cubicle and I was bent over the toilet being fucked again. He was a very fit lad and I enjoyed every minute of him fucking me. When he had cum in my arse he asked if I wanted to fuck him and soon he was bent over the toilet, his overalls at his ankles and his white pants stretched across his knees as I fucked his tight, hairy arse and shot my load up him. It didn't get much better than this! The following week I was back in the first toilet I had visited and the young blond lad was in there again. I watched as two older guys fucked him. This time I took my turn and shot a load up him myself before pulling out and letting another guy take over. I didn't hold back now - and have had many horny experiences in public toilets over the years. Of course I can't remember most of them, but I can remember some of my best experiences like it was yesterday. I'll share some of those in Part 2.

It's been a few years since I was in Prague, but Drake's was my favorite.

What a great story and wish i could be the next one... haven't done Pnp for a few months but I'm back with more wild thoughts

Very hot chapter! This story is so fascinating because, as the reader, we get to really "feel" what it's like when JT, Joey, and David go through the very intense highs of bliss and pain. I was looking up at that mirror as David was. I was seeing and feeling what it was like to be so spun that I'm separated, yet connected to my body as David was. As the crimson/purple liquid is pumped into my veins I saw and felt it disperse to my brain, heart, lungs, and groin as David felt. That's not easy to do when writing...well anything. Also, one doesn't really know just how far Mr. X got inside. Was he up to his armpit? Or was the magic potion clouding what David was seeing (and feeling) and really was just above Mr. X's wrist that made the first fist David took so intense? My fellow readers, intense is putting it mildly. One other thing. I find it very interesting that certain "real-life" events are sprinkled in the narrative here and there. Not only does it help place the actions and developments in time, but makes me wonder just how far down the rabbit hole this will go. Both in this highly erotic and twisted tale...and in real life.

Well worth the wait. Please continue! This is fucking hot! Placebos? Oh, I want Jon to rim me;)

HOT!

I would have my ass in the air and head on the floor so a top can get his piss deep inside me. I would think it would feel good to have a guy piss up my ass

hey, writers, may I suggest the obvious option, just writing 'he was young' and leaving the specifics to the imagination of your readrers? if for creative reasons in the name of artistic freedom you must include an exact age which may or may not be legal in all areas, send your story to the Nifty Archive, not here.

I absolutely love getting fucked understall. I can't even venture a guess of how many classes i missed in college so i could get loaded up....sleazy, very cruisy mens room on campus, with lots of jocks needing to dump a load.

Hey drscorpio, there obviously seems to be a gap between what's allowed by law and can be openly talked about here at BZ and what's actually going on out there. But that's not the point - if there's a law you have to obey it, whether it makes sense to you or not! I've had troubles myself discerning what I can/can't write here, so I sent you a PM today asking for your help. Then I realized that my question may be of interest to others too and that I might just as well post it here in this thread. So here's my question: what if I describe an anonymous hook up situation (and I'm not talking about my own memories but a purely fictional story) with an older top and a bottom boy a lot younger than his sex partner. The boy's actual age is never mentioned, but the top expresses his suspicions/doubts that he might not be legal yet, writing something like "When I entered the clearing, seven other guys were already busy taking turns fucking the handcuffed boy who was lying spread-eagle on the cum-encrusted mattress. I asked the kid if he was already 18 years old, but with the ball-gag blocking his mouth, he couldn't answer me. The other guys laughed and said something like 'If he's old enough to spread his legs, he's old enough to take our loads! Of course he's 18, isn't that right, kiddo?' But to me the boy looked a lot more like...(14/15/16/17)." or "Of course I knew that officially he had to be 18 to get into this bathhouse, but to be honest he looked a lot younger than that/ he looked more like...(14/15/16/17)." or "Somebody had handcuffed the boy's wrists behind his back and placed a black hood over his head. So without being able to see the kid's face I can't tell for sure if he was really 18, but just judging by his smooth boyish body, I wouldn't have guessed him to be a day older than...(14/15/16/17)." or maybe "The boy told me he was 18, but given his slender, hairless body and almost girlish sweet face I didn't believe him for a second. Not that I cared much - young age had never prevented me from breeding a boy and I would have fucked him anyway, no matter what he told me." So if I don't write "He's younger than 18" but imply that he might be or at least looks to be younger, would that be okay for me to write or not?

Knowing that there was a big PRCA bull riding event here in town, I placed an ad for anonymous walk in pump and dump here at my place. I got a number of replies, but only one came through. Holy shit, did he come through! After a couple emails, we had it set up. He was to email me about 10pm, and then he would be over. He wanted me blindfolded, ass in the air, prelubed, door open. I complied. No touching of him on my part, as he said he was going to fuck me, drop a load and nothing else. He also said that once he arrived that he was committed to give me a fuck, and he would not take no for an answer or allow me to stop. If I couldn't take his cock and fucking, tough luck. I assured him I could take it as I have taken some large and aggressive poundings over the years, and would get my hole worked up on preparation for his use. So, sure as shit at about 10:05 I got an email asking for my address. I gave it to him and told him I would be ready for him in about 25 minutes upon his arrival. I lubed up, set lighting to dark, but enough so that he could make out furniture and me ass up on the living room floor. I heard his diesel truck pull into my gravel driveway and I immediately got down with my ass in the air. Within a minute I heard my door open and close then footsteps. Quickly I heard the clanking of a belt buckle and zipper going down and jeans being pushed down. I then heard him open the lube and the greasing up of what I would soon find out to be a massive headed and thick slab of pure man meat. Much to my surprise, he never touched any of the condoms laying next to the lube. No ceremony or care given, he placed his cockhead on my hole and in one aggressive hard push drove his cock in balls deep. I thought I was going to pass out, and cowboy was not only hung, but easily as thick as a redbull can and hard as steel. I must have moaned/cried out in pain, as he laughed and said, "this is only the beginning. Get ready to not be able to sit for a week!" He started rasping that thick meat in and out. Full strokes. On each downward thrust i could feel his pubes on my ass and his large egg sized nuts slap on my taint. I was in heaven. He continued with long deep powerful strokes for 5 minutes or so, then without pulling out pushed my legs together with his thighs, reared up, shorted his stroke and began building to climax. Within a minute his breathing changed to short ragged breaths and with a gasp and shout of "OH FUCK! I'M GONNA CUM" he buried it balls deep and gound his pubes on my asshole and then I could feel it pulsing as it unloaded. Once he came down from his cum high, he pulled out, wiped his cock with the towel, pulled his pants up, zipped up, clanking of buckle and shuffled his cowboy boots to the door. Before opening the door he said, "that's for all the faggot guys checking me out whenever I come into town; I see you guys checking me out. Keep this private and I'll contact you in a couple weeks when I know I will be close to town. Thanks for the nut!" and then he was out the door. I emailed him again shortly thereafter with my direct email since cl uses relay responses, so he can contact me directly. This morning my hole is tender and still greasy from the lube. What a pain in the ass! Here's to hoping that he returns!!!!

Hey ... thanks for the rep. Would love to fill you right up with hot cremy amy milk

Holy FUCK!!!! EXTREMELY INTENSE! 6in prolapse! And that's just the start! GREAT chapter!

Prolapse (Night 2) You’re a sick puppy, I said to myself. After watching the concluding half-hour of the abuse Joey was put through, how could I be stiff as a board witnessing it? At Bar X Duncan stood off to a corner watching the shadow men who’d been aroused by his performance. The first group of men in line for Joey's ass were satisfied with simply fucking the half conscious kid strapped to the fuckbench. It was the few remaining men who lingered around waiting for the room to thin out, that slipped a few extra bills to Mr. X, these last men almost made me crack my nut, sick as that was. I don’t know if Joey had ever taken a fist, but the assembled men, maybe five or six, started testing out what the boy could take. With the first fist he was clearly awake, struggling against his restraints. The men were not gentle but took satisfaction in Joey’s pleas to stop. Several tried double fisting him but they failed in their attempts. The last couple were satisfied to piston and punch fist him, violating him with a good forearm before trading off to the next in line. The lube starting running pink then turned red, before Duncan saw that Joey could be seriously internally injured. He intervened and gave Joey's ass to the last man in line. He was a very thin old man—ninety, a hundred, a thousand year old priest?—practically skeletal. He negotiated with Mr. X and Duncan, giving Duncan a small black bottle and then went over and knelt before Joey’s ass. Crouching on his knobby knees he surgically felt inside the boy. Duncan came over and gave Joey a hit off the bottle the old man had provided. Joey’s head drooped even before the bottle was capped. Duncan sampled a hit. If it weren’t for one of the remaining spectators standing close to him, Duncan would have fallen. The spectator steady him and Duncan stood for a long while enwrapped in a hypnotic daze. The skeleton soon had his fist in Joey going up to his mid forearm when Joey’s head bobbed up and fell again. The old man's rested inside Joey at the crook of his arm. He withdrew it completed and immediately reinserted it. Joey silently opened his mouth, his eyes saucers of black, as the man this time went past the bones of his elbow. Joey breathed rapidly trying to absorb the old man’s thin flesh and bones. The skeleton paused just for a moment to let Joey adjust to the depth he had penetrated, then immediately inserted his other bony hand in Joey’s ass. There was an audible gasp from Joey when the second hand entered. Joey’s head fell. Duncan was again awake and stroke over to give the kid another hit. Joey shook his head emphatically but Duncan whispered sternly in his ear, and held the reluctant boy’s head between his thigh and his hand. Joey surrendered to the inevitable and inhaled obediently first with one nostril then the other. Duncan held this there until the captive took two more hits. The old man waited for Duncan to cap the bottle and step aside, then set the new hand trailing along his first arm. You could actually see the Joey's facial transformation. What was first reluctance then resistance to what the old man was doing internally to him, now Joey was assisting his own impalement. The old man met his new hand with the other deep inside Joey's body. The boy pressed his ass back on the old man's arms, trying to force the man's arms ever deeper. Me moaned and huffed with every inch he pushed and absorbed. At the peak of what his body could take, arms up to the withered biceps, the old man pushed an inch deeper extracting a frantic holler from Joey and then cruelly extracted both hands all the way out at once pulling Joey's innards with it. Joey cried out not in pain but in delirium, as his hole flared open displaying his newly exposed bright red entrails. *** I did as I was instructed. Water, then back on the giant phallus. I was able to take the speed bump and add a last few inches in pure sympathy with what I imagined Joey must have gone through. The video ended with Duncan unstrapping Joey and carrying him either unconscious or simply a crumpled sack of beaten meat with a thick river of spent lube and cum drooling out of his asshole. A final shot of Joey's head buried in the cleft of Duncan's hairy chest. On cue Mr. X and Riggs made their entrance. "Is excellent video, no? Analytics says over seven thousand visits, five hundred downloads in first day," Mr. X chortled, holding out a contract. "Joey will be big star, already have signature from him. This is yours. You sign whenever." He placed his hand on my face evaluating my butt and the distance traveled. "Very good, boy. You come far ways. But now I want to show you what you will be like for me. Not tomorrow but goal for you. Riggs has present for your next step, yes Pig Riggs?" With that, Riggs climbed in the sling, strapping in his legs, spreading open to display his hanging asslips. "What do you think, almost virgin Boy Scout. You see bull cunt like this before?" As an afterthought Mr. X added, "Leave dildo on bed, take up butt plug and come over here. That big plug there." Between pulling out the object and shitting it with my loosened ass muscles, I grunted till the dildo fell out. I went over and picked up the large butt plug Mr. X indicated and then went over and stood next to him. I bent to look at Riggs and Mr. X inserted a few inches of the plug in my ass. He gave an approving snort and I allow him to push it all the way in. "Oh, shit! Thank you, Sir." I examined Riggs' hole while my hole adjusted to the smaller object. "Holy fuck, Sir! I've never seen a hole with hanging flaps like that." "Sit and wheel yourself closer. See full talent of Riggs' hole. Maybe pleasure him while I get preparations going. Poppers to inspire you." Mr. X went to the table and went to work on loading fresh points for himself and Riggs. I took my hit and looked at his full, smooth puckered old man butt. A wave of lust got in me once I capped the bottle. I spread his cheeks and went in to get my first real taste of a man's asshole. I gave a lick to his hanging nutsack and ran my tongue down his taint. He was smooth, clean, but once I got to his sloppy asslips I got a taste of his muskier self. The poppers made me want to get more of that smell so I plunged a finger in him and pulled it out and sucked on it. He let out a cry of delight. What a dirty child I was, he sputtered. His sphincter and colon were softer than I could have imagined. I sucked on the outer flap of skin, every so often slipping my tongue inside as I circle around his hole. Each time I inserted my tongue down his shit chute he gave a loud moan. I used my fingers to spread apart his hole. It was so pliable that every time I spread him apart, it would stay open for a moment and I could see deep inside his cunt. It was bright pink then turned red the farther in I peered. He was pushing to expose more of his colon. I was fascinated how I was in some warped science experiment discovering the extremes of anatomy. This was not a boy's tight butthole like I knew mine to be when we started—how long ago? This was a sloppy pig's, extremely used manhole. I took another hit and began lapping it like a dog. We found a rhythm of him pushing, exposing more hole, and me licking as the next velvety layer of red innards unfolded. His moaning increased. "That's it, lick that rosebud, pig boy," he murmured. His cock, fully erect, bobbed in excitement to what I was doing to him. His hole was cleanly scrubbed and I explored it with my mouth and tongue each petal he was blooming. I felt my own hole open with the new butt plug, smaller than the dildo I had been working with but still big enough to give a charge with each gentle bounce I took on the stool. But what I was sitting on was nothing like what I was seeing. I was envious of Riggs' accomplishment, and anxious for my hole to follow suit. Not tonight, I knew, but I thought with these two men's perverseness, I could easily be guided to follow Riggs' path. Riggs pushed out his cock and I ran my tongue up his balls and up to his cockhead. There was a lot of precum dripping out of him, and I relis,hed the salty taste he was emitting. I kept splaying his ass apart with my fingers and leaned up to suck his cock straight down, trying to swallow as much of his eight inches as I could. I was turned on by him and what I was causing him to do. I wanted to take even more pleasure in him. My dick was hard as I stood up. I saw Riggs was watching me in the mirror, as I used my dick as a teasing stick, running his hole up and down, occasionally pushing in just the tip. "You little fuck," he moaned. "Give me your fuckstick, you back alley slut." I pushed it in, my first feeling of fucking an ass. And what an ass! How soft and giving his hole was. How plush and how much pleasure I felt in my engulfed cock. His hole was a wet crevice that gave absolutely no resistance as I pushed in. I was quickly up to my balls. Mr. X immediately saw what was I was doing, ordered me to get the fuck out of Riggs. "You little deviant shit, we might have to revise your contract, at least add a Top clause. I thought you were total bottom." He was swirling the liquid in the needles trying to dissolve the crystals. "I can see some situations where your talent would be appreciated. Councilman Greggs, I was thinking Riggs." He strapped a tourniquet around Riggs' arm and haphazardly stuck him. "But it's not always going to be about you, boy. Get that in your head. This time is about Riggs. This is how you treat some clients," he said, pulling the emptied needle out of Riggs' arm and snapping off the tourniquet. Riggs raised his arm in the air, his eyes bulged, and he gave out a short cough. "Fuck," he muttered with a blank stare. His pupils were huge. He took me in, trying to focus. "Fuck, I want your little prick back in me." His look was demented, selfishly evil. His lust made my heart race and relieved that he looked incapable of getting up out of the sling. Still something tantalizing remained in his desires. His head fell back onto the pillow. "Please X, let the piece of trash fuck me." "Alright. Only till I'm ready, and if you cum, boy, I'm going to cut off your balls and that will be the first and last fuck you ever have." He stuck himself with the second needle, used his thumb to register, then pushed down his plunger, and went through his ritual of capping the needle in slow motion, then holding onto the slings bars to steady himself. He went to work on Riggs tits. "Well, get your dick in him." Not that I felt turned on, but out of fear of not doing what Mr. X said, I got up and place my semi-rigid dick back against Riggs hole. It easily swallowed me up and with some gentle rocking I felt the pleasure of Riggs velvety ass making me rise to the occasion. Both of them with large black eyes watched me fuck Riggs. When I was confident I wasn't going to fall out, I grabbed the top bar of the sling and began slamming my cock into his silky hole. It felt fantastic pleasing myself and being observed simultaneously by these two very drugged up and debauched men. Steadying himself by holding onto the sling's pipes, he made his way behind me. I couldn't see him but felt him guide my arms down, and pin them behind me. "This is the way you fuck. Arms out of way of camera," he instructed. "Go all the way out and right back in. Let audience see your dick and then slam it back into pig. Could be young boy pig or old fuck like Riggs. Audience for every taste." I fucked Riggs, hard. Mr. X felt up my chest, tweaking my nipples, slithering his forked tongue in my ear, bit my neck a couple of times. His snake hand went down my side until it curved into my butt. He must have forgotten about my plug. "Ah no," he said to himself, a little disappointed. "Okay sit. Observe what you're little tight ass is going to become." I backed out of Riggs, more turned on than ever. I wasn't going to last much longer, so it was probably good to get a break and let Mr. X turn his dark attention on Riggs. Sitting next to Mr. X, I watched him grease up both his hands, and how, with a clench fist, he went straight and smoothly into Riggs. Riggs gave a grunt of pleasure and delight, breathing heavily. His hardon died but he was toying with the soft spongy mound incessantly. Mr. X withdrew his fist and immediately inserted his other. Like a locomotive taking off, his alternating fists started slowly and sure, but soon sped up to rapping Riggs' ass like a punching bag. Riggs looked in agony but spread his legs apart further. His eyes were looking up at the mirror taking in the devastation he was being put through and making animal noises, gnarling deep guttural incoherent words. Mr. X quit abruptly, inserting both hands, palms out into Riggs' hole and stretched with all the power he possessed. Riggs' responded with rapid puffs of breath, his body spasming in tremors, making a racket with the chains. Mr. X encouraged him to push. Where before his asshole had blossomed like a large rose, now those same red petals were turning inside out. Part of his colon was protruding beyond his asslips. "Fuck is that?" I asked, inching closer. "Just wait," replied Mr. X. "Go play with his tits. We're both fucked up. I gave him more than you ever had. The more you distract him the farther you and I can go with him tonight." I was interested in what Mr. X meant by that. I shuffled over to Riggs' side. He looked up at me pitifully, almost blindly. I was ready to start tweaking his nipples, but he asked instead if he could suck my tits. I bent over and at first he slowly nursed them rubbing my back, but as Mr. X quickly turned to his violent punching, Riggs grabbed me around my shoulders and pulled me onto the sling with him. His grip was steel and desperate. The harder Mr. X pile-drove into Riggs' gaping hole, the harder Riggs bit down on my nipple. My yelling only made things worse. Mr. X increased the velocity of his punching and Riggs increased the ferocity of his bite. Whose agony was more intense was a tossup. But again, Mr. X abruptly halted and spread Riggs' hole even farther than before. Riggs, a wild animal a moment ago, whimpered as Mr. X ordered him to push. He grunted out an enormous amount of flesh. I looked up at the cracked mirror, now outside of Riggs' reach, and couldn't believe how much of Riggs' colon lay in Mr. X's hand. With his snake hand, his fingers traced a ring around Riggs' bloated sphincter. Mr. X's other hand held a good six inches of Riggs' colon. "Now you finally make progress, Riggs!" Mr. X seemed to congratulate him. Riggs looked at his reflection in the mirror and sighed, both a sound of accomplishment and relief. "Boy, come, feel prolapse." It looked to me like a repugnant red slug, undulating slightly when I touched it. "It's like a turtle, very sensitive, wants to go back inside. But Riggs know it's a special pet, a most sensitive pet that he carries around for me inside. He knows it belongs to me and needs much worshiping." Mr. X picked out a capsule of amyl from his vest, broke it, sniffed and shared it with me. Mr. X knelt before the slug, flicked his tongue around and inside Riggs' prolapse. He grabbed my shoulder and knelt me before it next to him. We started lapping it together, both of us fondling it like a delicious object. Mr. X guide my face to what looked what otherwise would be its tail and told me to put my tongue inside. I did and felt a river of sludge greet me. Crisco and yellowish, pink and brown butt juice oozed into my mouth. I swallowed and stuck my tongue in deeper. "Good boy," encouraged Mr. X. I sucked on it, pulling out more of Riggs, both more of the red slug and more juices. Riggs' guttural mutterings came back as Mr. X encircled his forked tongue around the outside and I explored inside the prolapse. Mr. X put his arm around me and together we worshiped at the disconnected colon of Riggs. The three of were entwined for quite some time, each of us emitting deep satisfied noises of debauched delight. I felt something nasty overcoming me the more I suck down Riggs' juices. I looked over and saw Mr. X watching me. His eyes had lost all color, were black pools staring into me. His hand slick with Riggs' slime, he ran his hand through my hair, slicking it solidly to my scalp. I licked his hand, saw more of Riggs' fluids running down his arm where they had been deep inside. Pink grease and streaks of brown sludge. I ran my tongue up his arm, swallowing fetid liquid that bonded me ever stronger to him. I couldn't help myself. I licked his arm to his bicep, and then, catching a whiff of his armpit, continued till my face was buried deep into the bush of piss and rank odor that he emanated. He caught my head in a vice, but I didn't want to go anywhere. I was happy exactly where I was. His other hand glided down my belly to my dick. He greased it with what was left of Riggs' secretions. He easy aroused me and brought us up both facing Riggs. "This is what I wanted you to wait for, so your first fuck wouldn't be a nice, clean fuckhole but a degenerate filthy prolapse, something most boys never even dream of. Yet here you are, my new initiate." He was going to get me off right there, but he positioned me in front of Riggs’ 'tail' and held it in place while I inserted my very engorged dick slowly into it. Riggs cried out in astonishment, his eyes, also black, looked demonically incoherent up at the mirror and back over to me. He seemed to roll in and out of consciousness. "Fuck me, boy," he teased. "Do what your Scout Master orders. Fuck my blown out cunt, and when the time comes I will do the same to yours." My cock pierced him deeper, but unlike my first penetration of him earlier when he was sloppy and loose, getting inside his prolapse was difficult. I felt like I was pushing it in. While Mr. X held it with slippery hands, the stretch I was giving his already pulled out colon was putting him over the edge and in pain. Or was it ecstasy? This was new and unreal to me, Mr. X was right, I could never have imagined it. Was I hurting him or was it part of the new revelation to me on the connection between pain and pleasure? All I knew I was so aroused in how I felt, in the power I had over this man from whom I wanted only one thing desperately, but felt after tonight we'd never get back the the innocence of auditioning for a part. So, yes, I now wanted to fuck him, to cause him pain. Whether it brought him pleasure too, I didn't care. My need was immediate, superior, utmost. I got a regular stroke going, not too deep to push him in, but enough to keep me aroused. There wasn't any trouble with that. Mr. X pulsing his prolapse on my member was keeping me on edge, short of cumming that I wanted dreadfully to put off. A distraction, one question had been floating in the background for the last couple of hours while the drugs were wearing off. It needed to be asked of Riggs' at his most vulnerable. With my dick starting to rock him harder, I blurted out before I censored, "You were never going to give me the part, were you?" I rocked the sling only slightly harder, but enough to have his prolapse disappear like a sea anemone, taking my cock inside with it. It was unearthly sensation, one over too quickly, but, amazing, followed up by Mr. X's hand following me inside. "Fuck, man," I said to Mr. X, "yessss. Jerk me off inside Riggs. Fuck, that's incredible. Don't stop. Aw, fuck." The three of us were conjoined. Riggs eyes were open but cold and dead as a shark. Mr. X, not enough to owning my cock in another man's ass, was playing with my butt hole too, fingering the plug, pulling it partially out then letting it snap back inside my hole. My senses were overload, and the hanging question I felt Riggs had answered with silence made me spewed a river up his butt. Mr. X increased his rhythmic stroking when he felt me gushing. As he focus his pressure on my cockhead with his thumb, each milking he gave me brought another spurt of cum. He rubbed and rubbed my cockhead. I was flinching but still spewing my seed inside Riggs. He released Riggs and wrapped his snake arm around me tight as an anaconda, and with his other hand extracted the entire buttplug in one tumultuous motion. Without his embrace I would have collapsed. As it was my legs went weak, dangling like a marionette clutched by his arms. I fell out of Riggs' hole, juice and sperm leaking out his ass. I threw my arms around Mr. X's neck trying to regain my balance. He scooped up my legs and carried me like a rolled carpet over to the bed. He lowered me and laid next to me. The snake hand that he'd just had possessed Riggs' prolapse, still heavily greased, now testing my hole. It was his snake hand and I knew where it was headed. He pushed in his cockhead to get his venomous elixir in me. Piss warmed my chute till he was finished. We lay like this until he knew his chems were affecting me. Now I was the one who was shaky. In the semi-darkness, I struggled with reality, I was starting to hallucinate. "Mr. X," I said, "I'm seeing things." "Tell me," he hissed in my ear. "I'm tweaking hard. Strange things, Mr. X, like equations and hieroglyphics. I see them zipping by. I focus on them, they rush ahead so I can't hold onto them." I was shaking again in a drug fever. Mr. X felt me trembling. He pulled up behind me, spooning and providing me with his internal fire. Gripping me forcefully, he provided comfort. He rubbed my abdomen and my chest. "It'll pass, boy, especially once we give you a final booster." "I'm so fucking high, Master. I don't even know how long I've been down here. When are we?" I asked, putting a hand behind me, just to feel someone was really there. "It's Saturday night, boy," he said. "Time we start the real party, yes?" He nuzzled my butthole with his dick. I couldn't help rubbing up against him, no matter how much I was shivering or how much my brain was sizzling, I still craved dick. "Geez, Sir, what have we been doing so far?" "Foreplay," he responded. "Time to modifying you to my liking." Just the tip of his penis entered me. Enough to cause a seal. Slowly I felt a second batch of his warm elixir drizzle into me. I knew by now how I would be in a few minutes. I was a captured insect whose prey continually injects the most intoxicating venom, devouring me alive while holding me as his meal. He finished pissing a few last squirts, he didn't have a lot left in him, but the feeling I now carried inside was enough to alter my mind about resisting another slam.

I love going to a sex club and taking used rubbers off the floor and sucking them dry.

*** Entering his opulent white and gold bedroom, Riggs flipped on a classical CD and led me to a full-length mirror near the bay windows. It was late outside, the night clear. The streets were empty with most window dark. Save for the flashing of the Bar X sign, there was no movement in the city. On the dresser, he found a jeweled box. From it he pulled out two small, black suction cups. "Get them good and wet." I salivated all over them. The music rose around me, engulfed me in warmth and brilliant light. He turned me around and licked one of my nipples. Goosebumps erupted across my chest, arms, neck. Riggs licked the other one. He squeezed out the air of one of the suction cups, placed it on the nipple, and then did the same with the second. The suction felt like someone giving me a hickey, unrelenting. I gently pulled at them to get them to intensify the draw. He slid behind me, close enough so I felt his bulging cock press inside my thighs. I instinctively clenched by butt cheeks to grab his bulge. "Good boy," he responded, "there's performance potential for you yet." I looked at us in the mirror and liked what I saw. "Maybe more potential than can be contained on a stage. Still feeling good?” "Or bad," I suggested, nuzzling my butt back against him. He ran fingers lightly over my abs, and flicked the black cups. I ground my ass cheeks back and forth over the crusted yellow stain I felt behind me. "I feel good. Thank you, Sir. Sensual. Open. Like anything you'd want to do I'd let you,” I said, trying out ideas and trying phrases I was allowed to call him. “Anything Pig Rigg wants." "You get the picture, don't you?" he breathed, then stuck his tongue in my ear. "Secret of performance: Show, don't tell. Do you like the music?" "It's the most beautiful music I've ever heard." I started undulating into him. "You know in the play you'll have to be naked at times. Are you comfortable with that?” I nodded beginning to slip out of my jock strap letting my hardon slap my stomach. "No, boy, leave it on. Show me how the music moves you." Before I could get to it, he pulled up my jock, feeling my erection again before pushing it down. I started swaying to the low bass strings, following wherever it led around the bedroom, letting it show me how to move. Interpreting rhythm and melody, watching my host carefully, interpreting what he would enjoy me doing next. Wordlessly, instinctively, directing me as he sat at the edge of the bed. I moved to him, bent over, rubbing his crotch with my butt. He let two fingers run through my crack and sniffed. "Oh, you filthy child," he said, upright on the bed. "You have the hairiest bubble butt I've ever seen. When was the last time you washed that crack?" It wasn't a question but a direction I understood. Slowly I crawled on the bed, facing him, spread my cheeks apart and started rutting on top his yellow stain, wiping whatever was exciting him with my scent, pushing his shoulders down so he was prone. The grunge of my asshole, over and over, rubbed against his the yellow stain. I raised my arms and slow bent down, first my right then left, to let him smell my stink. He licked both pits hungrily, uttering low moans of lust. I felt his tits for the first time, and knew if my dick hadn't been restricted I would have shot my wad right there. I told him what beautiful utters he had, that I wanted utters like his. I asked if I could suck them. Of course, he answered. I backed off his bulge a bit to get into a position on all fours, and noticed where I'd rubbed, his crotch was now streaked brown. He notice too. "You gutter trash, look what you did," he said, pleased. "Suck my tits, pigboy." I dove down on his chest and sucked like a nursing pig. While suckling on one, I played with the other. "Harder, alley boy," he cried, "these tits are indestructible. They connect straight to my cock and make me want to fuck your shitty hole." He ripped the cups off my nipple, flung me to my side. "Let's see. Yes. Lovely!" I looked down and what were always flat tiny tits, were now small mounds of flesh Riggs could hold on to. He tossed me on my back, and knelt over me, drinking me in, admiring even the smallest of changes he'd already made in me. As he crouched over me, he rutted my restrained cock against his pants. A little stain of precum wet his crotch. My hands found their way back to his nipples, pushing myself up to sitting, my mouth soon followed. While sucking him, he stroked my hair, and I emanated my own moans like a hungry piglet greedy for its supper. He reached down and put two fingers between my legs, rubbing the taint between my balls and hole. He was going to get me to cum without even stroking my cock. He pulled open my jock, fondled my hardened cock, gave me several strokes, and quickly pushed it straight down again. I was annoyed and frustrated since more than anything I wanted to be naked for him, naked with him, feeling him, skin on skin. His delaying my desires only made them stronger. It caused my erection to push out the fabric straining ever harder. He was playing me. I was his instrument succumbing to his every wordless direction. He paused, looked at his clock, thought. He raised us both off the bed, guiding us to his full length mirror. "Look at you," he said. I saw perspiration beaded on my forehead, a trickle of sweat running down from my pits down my flanks. "Could you be like this in front of an audience? People watching you, thrilling to how you're turning yourself on, and them on, at the same time?" "Yes, if you guided me, put me through my paces. I know I could, Sir.” I nuzzled my head back against his shoulder. He ran his hand over my neck and reached down to my tits, pulling on each one. "It might not be what you expected, but I can lead you where I know you want to go. I can tell already the direction isn't what you set out for, and we'll need to go much, much further, find your limits and then go well beyond them. I have friends, many friends, that can help you. One in particular." I could feel him pressing up behind me, his fully erect penis pressing against his fabric. I reached around and gave his girth a strong squeeze. Nothing felt as good as that moment, feeling him lust for my ass as I was hungry for his cock. I push down his waist band and felt his hardon pop up, making a wet sound of precum slap against my balls. I instinctive arched my back and use his cock to glide along my ass. "You've never been fucked, have you, David?" I shook my head against him. "Let's slow down," he said, tilting my pelvis out of an arch and stepping out of his drawstrings. He slid his hand under my pits, wiping a trail of sweat down my torso and finally slipped off my jock. I felt relaxed in his arms, not frantic as a moment before. My cock at last freed and erect to show him how much he aroused me. He walked us a few steps over to the bay windows. We stopped at the center glass. He pushed me forward so I had to prop myself against the frame. He began grinding his cock between my legs. I was wet from sweat and his copious precum. I could feel his cockhead getting larger than before, to the point where he was almost at the point of not being able to stop. He whispered in my ear, "Wave." Looking back at him and then following his gaze down, I saw the tenement figure I had been spying on in the dining room, unmistakably looking up at us. "Say hello to you future manager. Say hello to Mr. X."

The Pig in Pygmalion (Night 1) I arrived at the address Riggs had left for me, a triplex at the top of Lombard Street. Tourist's cars lined up at the lip of the street to serpentine their way to the bottom of the hill. I rang the buzzer, a little nervous, still sweating in my tank top and shorts from the fencing class and the uphill walk. Riggs answer wearing white yoga pants and an open Hawaiian shirt revealing a clipped chest of white hair. He was slightly taller than me, maybe three inches, and stood near enough that I could smell fragrant soap. That was bad enough, but thank God he wasn't drenched in cologne or I don't know if I'd have gone in. I spied his shirt pockets hid unusually large nipples. I looked down to avoid staring. It was hard to miss his dick outlining against the thin pant fabric. It was also impossible to ignore the large piss stain ending at his tip. I quickly looked back to his eyes. He could see I was taken aback and smirked. "You can't wear too little in this weather, now can you?" he said, fanning his face, very Southern Bell-like. He shouldered me into the entryway and guided me up the steps to the mid-level of his triplex. In the living room, he started shutting blinds on a view of San Francisco the likes I'd only seen in movies. The room was stark white and cool, growing darker with each shade drawn. I was about to sit down on his white sectionals, when he called out, "Oh, dear, don't sit in here. Not with all that boy sweat on you. Just look at that tank top. Here," he demanded, "give that to me. I'll set it to air out in the laundry room. Hopefully it will dry—or not." He smiled, waiting while I pulled off my top. He was right. I was a sopping mess. Every inch of my top stuck where I pealed it off my skin. His eyes never left me. I felt under the microscope. "Sit your tukhus in the there," he said, pointing to the dining room. As I handed the tank top to him, he put it up to his nose. "Christ, boy! Utterly rank!" he exclaimed, delighted. "I thought you blonds hardly sweat. Come over here. Let me get a smell of you. Oh, now, David." He sadly shook his head. "As your director, you can't pull away before we even start. We have lots of daddy issues to get through, don't we? Yes, yes, I know about you and your family. How daddy cheated on mommy. How conflicted that must make you feel." I felt suddenly more than half-naked before this man. How badly did I want this part? "This is me, David," he said, waving his hand in front of himself. "No filters. It's gotten me this far." He was up close, almost in my face. "If we're going to work together, we're going to have to know each other intimately. But you knew that." He was looking slightly down at me. "Hello," he breathed. "Hello," I responded, reaching out a hand, trying to make a joke of it. "I'm David Kennedy, from..." "Not the Kennedys from Hyannis Port?" "Hardly. A lost stray from Redondo Beach, California." I thought I amused him, but he seemed already bored with the banter. "Yes, yes. All that. Leads in all four years at, what is it, Redondo High? Daddy a philanderer, momma dies last year of cancer. Ovarian. Actors don't hide those feeling, David. They use them." "Wait, what?" I was taken aback, embarrassed, and a little angry. "I don't know where you get off...what you said isn't on my resume, and sure isn't common knowledge." "Of course it's not, it's on your face, angel." He started ticking off on his fingers. "Boyhood friend, Perry, at UCSD in the fall, first love, I’d bet. Would love to have seen that. Already bedded two of the students at school, naughty boy." I know I blushed at that. He tousled my hair, more wanting to know if he could. I guess he could. He took a whiff of my shirt, and in a revelry, slowly recited, "Tattoo of a dreamcatcher on right buttocks. I'll need to see that." I was about to protest again, when he added: "You can thank Duncan for that." I was flustered, off-balance. "I...what gives you..." "Cliché, David. Gives me the right? If I'm offering the lead to an unknown unknown, you don't think I need to play detective to see if you're the good upstanding Boy Scout next door, or a back alley street hustler." Taking a quick whiff of my top, he spat, "By God I wish it was the latter." He regarded me seriously. "Besides. You know there are several nude scenes so we'll have to get comfortable with that. Therefore, tonight, David Kennedy of the Redondo Beach Kennedys, tonight you're not David. 'Boy' is the name of the lead in the play, so Boy you are all night. Now, lift your arms, boy," he ordered. I slowly lift them. He then took two large inhalations in my pits. "Perfect. Like an aphrodisiac, ain't they?" He said mockingly, insinuating the corn-pone character I was auditioning for. "Sniff them yourself, and tell me what you think." I did and found he was not incorrect. In the manner true to the character, but words my own, I drawled, "I always knew I liked the smell of wet pits, mine and others. Locker room smell, when like daddy came in from doing yard work. I’d always been kind of ashamed I liked it. I wonder how you knew that about me." He clapped slowly. "Beautiful. Perfect. Little less southern though. Now, you, being a California boy, you don't wear deodorant, do you?" I shook my head. "You know what's good?" he asked closing the space between us again. "The smell. But you know what's great? The taste," to which he buried his face in one pit, grabbed my shoulder, inhaled deeply and lick my hairs from bottom to top. "Aw, man!" A sharp twinge of shock and excitement overcame me. What started as a tickle, quickly became erotic. "You liked that, didn't you?" he asked. I gave it a second, then nodded. "Good. Step one taken. You're getting the hang of this, ain't cha?" He let me drop one arm but held up the other. Very purposefully he held my shoulder, and while looking me in the eye, slowly let his tongue crawl up my wet pit. It was a power play, so I reached around his neck and held his face in my pit. "Delicious!" he squealed, which made me let go. "I see we're going for hustler—" he said, studying the confusion on my face, "—or is it embarrassed Boy Scout? I can't tell." He paused, puzzled, and then abruptly dropped the scene. "Now then, what would you like to drink? Dinner should be ready in about twenty minutes. Seltzer? Orange juice? I just squeezed a couple of blood oranges before you came." He let innuendo ooze over the words. Again, I was off-balance whether we were still playing. "Good for when it's...hot." I played along as best I could, trying to recover, like what just happened was perfectly normal, happened at every audition. I made out tentatively, "Yes, squeeze me some juice." I thought it might sound insinuating, but it came out, I thought, pitiful. "Two shakes," Riggs said, and cheerfully sped into the kitchen. I looked around, not really know what I was doing there, felt way out of my league, neither gay nor theatrical, wondered how I was going to make it through this. I was relieved though that he was out of the room for a moment. I felt myself getting defensive. The crack about my father was true. He cheated on my mother. The sicker she got the less he hid his infidelities. I hated my father by the time my mom died. She left me whatever was left in her savings, the reason I could rent my little apartment; would have divorced him if she could, but it seemed pointless, so few months or days, and to what end? It was too depressing I stayed with Perry when she went into the hospital, at the end. Perry was the only thing good that year. I think we left each other so abruptly, right after graduation, because he felt my dependency, almost desperation to cling to someone. He encouraged me that San Francisco could be a new start for me, as UC San Diego was for him. Fuck your brains out, he advised. Don't look back. I deflected what Riggs brought out in me, felt sandbagged by it, and needed to steel myself if I was to get through this night. Fuck him, get the part, fucking queen, and live happily ever after in my back alley studio. I suddenly felt righteously judgmental, scanning the old faggot's place. An old, gay man with lots of money, that's what stood out. Really? Cliché 50's body builder photos? Several hung over the sectionals in the living room. Little loin cloths, boys with slick-backed ducktails. Holding spears, or in sailor hats holding thick ropes, fake wrestling poses. All signed. Of course, but wear was the statue of David? Oh, standing next to the staircase leading upstairs. Chandelier at the top of the stairs. The entrance to his bedroom. Fucking Liberace taste of the critically acclaimed. I went over to the dining room window. The sun was setting and I did everything I could to hate the view. The watercolors over the water, the rows of houses with their lights turning on, even a neon bar sign blinking "Bar X" two streets over. God, did I hate this place. So how then could I want it so badly I'd do anything to get it? I looked around at the dining room. A large black and white photograph of a lily, another next to it of a naked black body, sinewy, almost metallic. A brass-plated telescope positioned in the opposite corner at the window, pointing down to the street. I went over and looked through the lens. It framed a tenement apartment above the bar I had noticed. The focus centered on a dingy bedroom window. I turned a nob next to the lens. A large man came into view, fucking something suspended in chains. I looked away. But then curiosity and not a small bit of voyeurism drew me back. Whatever the man was fucking was completely encased in black. It appeared helpless. Except for the butt in the body suit there was no other skin showing. I saw the body was suspended in a sling that had a strap for each extremity. The large man abruptly ended the fuck holding the butt against himself tightly. After a moment released it and sat on a stool facing what he previous fucked. The brass telescope was a beautiful and very precise instrument. I zoomed in to see a close up of the butt of the black clad figure. It didn't register to me at first, but as I adjusted the focus I saw the large man slowly penetrating the butt with his hand. He withdrew his hand and replaced it with his other hand. He repeated this several times then withdrew. He then slipped in fingers of each hand and stretched the hole, and again slipped his hand, this time, up to his whole forearm inside the butt. I looked away for a moment to wipe my eyes, just as Riggs came back into the room with two drinks. "Cheers," he said, handing me a very large goblet. He read the looked on my face with curiously. "Oh, you must have met Mister X," he offered, pointing to the telescope. "Bottoms up," he said, and laughed. I took a sip and although I thought the taste would be familiar, it was extremely bitter. "Organic blood oranges. Different, don't you think?" "Uh, I dunno. I guess it's really strong, or something. Not quite Tropicana." "Oh God, no. Maybe I should get some sugar for you.” "No, it’s okay, I'll getting used to it." I was happy to finally sit at the table where things settled down to what seemed to be turning into a somewhat normal interview. Still, at first it was a struggle to get the image of the man's arm sliding into a butt out of my mind, but chit-chatting about how classes were going, about the revival, about my 'triumphs' in high school, a few plays I liked, some parts, some track wins, did the trick. When I talked about the track wins Riggs grew more interested, leaned across the table. How did I prepare, what winning felt like to me? I surprised myself by how vividly I recalled those meets. I did some gymnastics—Riggs thought as much—but track is really what I liked. Being outdoors, free for a few second putting everything I had on the line, the challenge of individually beating the guy next to me, throwing all I had into the finish line. Seeing Perry in the stands. My dad next to him, and some lady I didn't know. I edited the last part in a pause I hoped he didn't notice. Riggs asked about the apartment I rented, how much I paid, the expenses of the city, how far the apartment was from here. With every sip, I got more relaxed and more energized. Even more, each sip made him more interesting. Maybe it was that he seemed interested in me. That sounds conceited, but it was becoming a two-way street. I thought it was, at least. I saw him more than an old queen, maybe even kind of sexy in an old man who keeps in shape kind of way, especially when my gaze drifted to his yellow stain or the lumps under his shirt pockets. He put on some classical music, which sounded like the most beautiful music I had ever heard. He took my empty drink and went to freshen both of ours. I was surprised how I was getting obviously horny. I glanced around the dining room. There was a poster advertising a museum's Hockney exhibit—two figures, one in red jacket and khakis, and an underwater swimmer in a perfect swimming pool. The rippling water invited, compelled, and magnified the boy underwater in white swim trunks. Out of the living room and dining area, the red jacket provided the only dab of color. At a side table there were the two black and white photos. The one of a beautifully sculpted black man, and next to it the close up of a single lily. Something about the lily seemed, I don't know, strange, erotic. Riggs, shirtless, came back with drinks in hand. He said something about how dreadfully hot it was slaving away in the kitchen. Again with the Southern Bell affectations. I wasn't annoyed as much by the affectation, probably because I finally got a good look at his engorged nipples. As big as a woman's, what in high school we called high beams. They definitely weren't natural, but I couldn't look away. Part of me wanted to feel them, bite them, gnaw on them, nurse them. Before tonight I'd have been revolted by something freaky like that. I was confused but also mesmerized, and then almost as quickly I felt panicked that I even felt this way. As if on cue, the kitchen's smoke detector's alarm went off. For a second I thought it was in my head. My heart raced. But then smoke tendrils rolled out of the kitchen. I jumped up, felt incredibly woozy, and had to steady myself on the back of the chair. "Hang on, boy. I think I burned the chicken," he said. My panic melted into giggle. I couldn't tell you why, but it was the most absurd thing that was happening. He was looked at me, then joined in the laughter, bending over, chortling away. He was much more composed than I, caught his breath, gave me a fast once over, and quickly withdrew to fan out the kitchen. I heard the banging of the stove. He was back, royally announcing, "Apologies, David Kennedy, but dinner is ruined." I was still chuckling, puzzled why I even thought it was funny. "Y'know,” I said, “I'm not really even hungry." "Me neither," he snorted. "Let us retire to the study where we can continue our little interview." “Let us, yes," I said following up the stairs with his and my drink in hand. The statue of David, I flashed passing it at the staircase, had really big feet. *** In his study, I was overwhelmed by walls of photos. Two full walls of them, most signed to him, in appreciation, etc., some more cryptic. They were mostly men, some very young, only a few women. That seemed telling enough. Mixed in with headshots were production shots. One I made out was of Duncan, shirtless, in a dueling scene. I had already been impressed by his arms and pecs in class, but seeing him only in tights—what an enormous muscular butt he had—made me feel a little twinge in my jock. “Duncan is perfect, isn't he?" Riggs said, seeing the photo I was admiring. "A beautiful specimen. Not a great actor, but charismatic as hell. Look at that dimpled buttocks. A massive member. Small balls. I blame steroids. His back is a pockmarked horror, if you're into that kind of thing. And I am into that kind of thing." I laughed uneasily. Riggs measured my reaction, paused, then seriously asked, "David, do you feel that what you desire is worth the risk of what you need to sacrifice to attain it?" Trying to follow the director's train of thought I asked, "You mean Duncan, with 'roids?” I added, carefully, “I was never into that. I was around it plenty, tempted, seeing how it worked on a couple of guys, but I never acted on it." "Well, steroids, no, not that. More taking a chance to get what you want. You'll offer your body, naturally, that comes with the territory, but more important is when you offer your mind, David. Your mind for molding, or more precisely, re-molding. Each role a different challenge. A different you. Something David wouldn't do, but 'boy' would never question." Riggs looked suddenly a little dangerous to me. He tapped my glass, encouraging it up to my lips. "Would you like to see another part of Duncan McCain? Revealed in all his splendor?" I nodded under an increasing spell of agreeing to whatever Riggs's asked. I sat on the black leather couch, while he went to a cabinet and removed a single, black binder from a row of dozens of identical binders. He brought it over, looked at me, said one word: "Floor." The evening shifted at that moment, subtly, but enormously. Just one word. I immediately slid down and sat cross-legged, as Riggs sat on the couch above me. He gently started massaging my shoulders. I was enjoying his touch. I had the binder in my lap, opened to the first page. Duncan, in stunning black and white, more striking than the phony 50's photos downstairs. I was awestruck. Hair released, naked, saber pointed tip down to the stage. His slightly bent dick flopped majestically to one side, his testicles protruded just a bit, right leg on point. A silver ring circled his large yet flaccid cock. My eyes crawled over every inch of his exposed flesh, each stroke of body hair emanating from his armpits, flowing down his chest, dark swirls above his ample meat, his gaze staring straight into the camera, daring me to look away. It was impossible. A voice from far away spoke slowly, hypnotically, "A binder for each man in the company." The voice got closer, whispered in my ear. "Some of the crew, too. They're usually hotter. Kinkier. Next page. Please." I turned the page. On opposing pages, Duncan held a whip, with a naked masked figure whose arms were strapped to a piece of timber shaped in an ‘X.’ The photo on the left was Duncan in a chain harness and leather crotchless chaps about to strike the naked figure. But it was the photo on the right, Duncan completely nude, no costume of any kind, the whip having just hit its mark, leaving him with a swollen hard-veined erection, an erection that thrust in an arch away from his body. The ferocity on his face I had glimpse only in a flash from him early today. That recognition startled me, and caused me to spill a little of my drink on my gym shorts. "Oh, angel, the carpet," Riggs said alarmed, taking the binder and goblet out of my hands. "Enough Duncan for tonight, I think." He rose and put the binder back in the cabinet while I made heavy use of the couch to leverage standing. I was now more than a little woozy. "Look at your shorts, young man,” he scolded. “You'll be sporting a big red stain along with your red stiffy if I don't soak them right now. The shorts. Drop drawer. Now." I did. I was surprised by how easy it was to do everything Riggs directed. Even acknowledging he'd immediately spotted my growing interest in naked Duncan seemed natural. "Now that the pants are off, let me see the tattoo of your," ordered Riggs. I turn and Riggs zeroed in on my welt. “Where the hell did you get that?” he asked incredulously. “In fencing class today,” I answered, feeling it. It was a lot larger than I remembered. “Duncan?” I nodded. “Let me feel. Hmmm.” It was still tender and I pushed his hand away. Feebly I was trying to change the subject. "Y'know, I have to say something, Can I call you Alan?" "You may not,” he replied. I wasn’t sure if he was kidding, but he continued, “You can call me Sir Riggs," he half joked, but quickly turned more serious, "or just Sir, if we’re being informal." He held the shorts up to his nostrils, sniffed the crotch. "You do realized just how delicious you smell, boy?" Even as unsteady as I was, I got the feeling this evening, the less I talked, the more he was interested. I was feeling less each moment like a person, and more like an object, one that had a smell, a scent, but no person beyond the body in front of him. "Under certain circumstance you can call me Rigg Pig,” he continued after a thought, brightening. “Certain friends do, anyway." I looked at him a sideways not getting his meaning. "Boy,” he said, stroking my neck, “you'll soon see other sides of me, when we establish more trust. And I can tell I'm going to have the pleasure of showing you other sides of you don't know. If you allow me. Will you allow me?" I was puzzled and hazy, for he added after a pause, petulantly, "Oh, you must see I have an uncontrollable piggy side that wants to devour you, don't you?" He closed the space between us. He sounded almost hurt. "You mean the pit thing?" I offered, trying to remain steady and neutral. I wasn’t liking this being treated like an object thing. I wanted to be on top of it, fight it. Something snapped in my brain. Maybe it was a revival of the game we played downstairs. Instead of getting defense, I said, "Nah, I kind of liked it, to tell you the truth." I sniffed my pit, then shot out something that I didn't know if I believed, but said anyway. "Honestly, I wished you were a little ranker, if you really want..." I raised an embarrassed hand to my mouth. I couldn't believe I blurted that out. But even as I was saying it, I knew it was true. And so did he. He beamed having gotten something he wanted out of me. Some confidence. I suddenly saw myself clearly as he saw me: an eighteen-year-old skinny blond kid, standing in his jockstrap in front of a man he hardly knew, who wore a white cotton drawstrings with a yellow dick stain on his crotch, had big titties, admitting he preferred rank men that stank. He looked at me anew. Not only calmly, but a bit endearingly. At first I bristled like a colt feeling its first saddle. But after a second gathering of my thoughts, I found his gazing affirmation, admitting a fundamental corruptibility, reassuring. I realized I didn't mind the situation, in fact, I started to feel it was full of potential, something I might actually want. Shaking a bit of the buzz out of my head, I said, "Sir, I remember, what I wanted to say: what's in this drink? This buzz isn't from some bloody blood oranges, is it?" He closed the final gap between us, putting both hands on my naked shoulders. "GHB." He scrutinizing my reaction again, all the while pressing his groin into my jock. "Do you like the way you feel?" "I do, but I don’t know what GHB is." "When I'm first getting to know an actor, I like to be comfortable, feel their reactions, and see their limitations. G opens them up to me. The only way we got anywhere tonight is when you opened yourself up to me. Mentally and physically." He reached between us and pinched my nipples. "Nice. So far you haven't flinched at all.” "No, Sir. I think I like it, but I don't understand why. That hurts a little but I like what you're doing." His pinches became more forceful. I felt my dick start to rise. "It gets me hard and admit things I wouldn't say." "The last you need to know is why you're saying things. Only that you say them honestly. 'Why' is for the brain. To act upon your desires, that's here," he said, slipping his hands down my jock, feeling the swell, and forcing my rising cock to point unwillingly down. "Mmm,” I moaned lightly as he touched me. “Your nipples. How'd they get that way? Why do they looks so tempting?” "Again with why. Would you like to have your nipples as big as these?" I nodded. "Good boy. Let's start now.” Then, another single command I had to follow: "Come."

I was traveling for business, and as usual, wanted to find a cute boy or two to breed. Hopefully a dumb neg boy to take my toxic poz cock into this ass and spread my bug to yet another town. I jumped on Grindr and saw the perfect boy for me to convert. "raw ass 4 cum" was his handle, and as we chatted he told me he had just started taking bare cock at the insistence of his Fiance. I asked him his name, and he said it was Andrew. told him it was a pleasure to meet him, and would be interested in giving him a couple of loads from my uncut pierced cock if he wanted them. He said that he had to wait till his Fiance was out, but he could come over for an hour or so in a couple of hours. I told him great, looked forward to it, and gave him my hotel information. A couple hours go by, and I get a ping on Grindr, it is Andrew again. He lets me know he is on his way, and should be at my hotel in about 15 minutes. I tell him the room number again, and say that I look forward to it. When there is a knock at my door and I open it, the first thing that catches my attention of the boy standing in the hallway is his gorgeous blue-grey eyes. I invite him in and ask if he wants a drink. He says just a water please. I grab him one from the minibar, and we sit down. After a couple of swigs, he puts the water down, and I go in for a kiss. He quickly kisses me back, and soon I am stripping his clothes off and he is stripping off mine. when he gets to my jeans, and frees my cock, he looks at it for a second, then goes down and starts sucking on it, gettign his tongue in my foreskin and digging for any cheese that might be in there, though I doubt it since I clean well. As he works my cock expertly with his throat, I peal my jeans the rest of the way off. As he comes up for air, he notices the tattoo to the right of my cock. "What's that mean?" he asks me. "it means I am part of a special group of men, and we often wear this symbol as a mark of honor." I tell him. "How do you get it?" "well, you have to have a life changing experience and then you can join the club and get the tattoo. some guys keep it kinda hidden like I do, others will put it a place everyone can see." "I think I would get one where everyone can see." "Yea, I think I know a good place for you to get it, once you have earned it." He goes back to sucking my cock, and I start getting his pants off him. I have some trouble getting them completely off, so I suggest we move to the bed. He stands up and slips the rest of his clothes off, and walks over to the bed, his sweet furry neg ass swaying slightly. I push him down on his stomach, push his legs apart, and dive in to taste his hole before I ravage it and change him completely. he moans and squirms as I rim his tight hole, loosening it up a bit with my tongue and spit before I start adding in a finger, the nail slightly long to help tear his insides and make him ready to receive my gift. Once I had him loosened up, and ready, I moved up his body, kissing his back as I went. Soon, my cock was pushing against his hole, and I was nibbling his ear as I pushed and roughly entered his ass for the first time that night. He grunted in pain, but was a good boy and didn't scream out. I kissed his neck and waited a few moments for him to adjust to the intrusion before I began to slowly thrust in and out. I kept my pace constant, and my breathing normal, because I know I would not last long for my first load, and sure enough, after only about 5 minutes I felt the tingle in my balls signalling I was close to breeding him for the first time. I let the orgasm cum, and flooded him with my first load of toxic cum. After I had breed him, I kept the fucking going, and didn't loose my rock hard cock, so he had no idea I had just given him a nice big load of my poz cum, and was now working it into his ass, helping my swimmers find their way into his system and doing their job. After a few minutes more, I flipped him around so that he was on his back, and I kept up the thrusts, working my first load deeper in to him and building up my second load, which he would think was my first. As I felt my balls begin to contract again, I told him I was close. "Yea, give me your cum." He said. A few more strokes, and I knew I was going to be shooting again. "Here it comes boy." and I shoved all the way in and began to pulse as my cum shot into his willing ass. we kissed as I finished cumming in him, and then I slowly withdrew. I rolled him into a little spoon position, and slid back in to keep most of my cum in his ass to do its job. we snuggled as I slowly pumped his ass, telling him it would take me a few minutes to recover, but that I would soon be up for a second fuck and give him another load. "sounds good to me." he said as I slowly slid in and out of his now well filed ass. He had still not cum, but as I reached around, I could tell his cock was ready to burst. But until I had given him another load I didn't want him cumming. TBC...

Week before X-mas afforded me a couple of nights I could step out without family. Went shopping for the wifes present. First time I seemed to have found myself deep in a hot bareback bottom. Pounded him for 30 minutes straight missionary until I dumped my sizable load deep in his willing ass. Watched him blast his load all over his belly at the same time. Next night same reason to be out but instead met a top in a movie theater parking lot at night. Blew him in the back of my minivan until he shot his married load in my mouth, swallowed it all down. Still looking to get my first breeding of 2017.

It's crazy that my brother has no idea what's he's doing as he is a natural teas. I know when he moves to NYC to live with us he won't be a virgin for long.

I was 13. There was a cruising park in my town (Calgary alberta) down by our zoo. I would ride my bike there during the summer and get my cocked sucked in the bushes mostly by guys in their 30s and 40s. One time two guys were sucking me, and couple more were watching, and one of them started playing with my asshole. before I knew what was happening, he was behind me, and sliding it in while the other guy kept sucking. it hurt, but he held on and came very quickly in my ass. the other guy never stopped sucking and i came right after... the other guys came over and got me hard again. One of them had vaseline, and fucked me again, and with lube I liked it. i remember his cock got covered in shit, he wiped it off and tried to get me to suck, but i refused. he went back in my ass and came. That was my first loads, and my first time doing anything bottom.

I was 18, pretty hairy already and wearing my first beard, but not very mature. I went with a group of friends to a bonfire one of their relatives was having out on their farm. Lots of men and women of all ages there, and plenty of booze flowing. Being 18, I drank like there was no tomorrow, and had quite a buzz going. The crowd and heat from fire was getting to me, so I stumbled off towards the edge of the woods and sat down on a log. I leaned back, and before I knew it I was passed out. Sometime later, I heard a guy's voice telling me to wake up. When I lifted my head, I saw it was my friend's cousin I had met earlier that night. He was about 35, lean as a bean pole, balding, and had a red bushy beard. He extended his hand and I reached up and took it. He pulled me upright and I quickly stumbled into him. He caught me, called me a drunk ass, and sat me back down on log. I lean forward again, and my forehead rested right on his crotch. He laughed again, but I could feel his cock under his jeans. I uprighted myself, and the beer gave me the courage to just place my hand on his crotch and look up at him. He didn't say a word, just unzipped his pants and freed his cock. He stood there, not moving, and let me make the first move. I started sucking his uncut cock there in the dark woods, and I was amazed as it kept extending longer and longer. I had never seen a cock that long. An average thickness, but it had to be 10" long. I sucked all of it I could for a few minutes, before he pulled out and walked me a bit deeper in the woods. In a clearing, he got us both on the ground and lay on top. He kissed me (my first passionate one) and started undressing me. Soon I was naked, as was he, and he started licking my ass as he rubbed my balls. I was putty in his hands, and he pulled me back towards him so I was on all fours in front of him. He rubbed my hole a bit with his cocked, and then just pushed into me, opening me up for first time. When I felf his balls against me, I couldn't believe something that long was inside my ass. He fucked me for maybe two minutes before I heard him groan, and the thought of cum being unloaded so deep in me made my cock shoot involuntarily. I heard him whisper good boy as I was cumming. We fucked for the next 5 years, off and on, until he took a job out of state. He had three kids by then as well. I sure got a lot of action every time his wife was knocked up.

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A gum job by a toothless cocksucker is on my bucket list.

This one of the first stories I've read where anyone has described "the darkness" as he put it. Years ago when I used to fight the virus, I would feel it trying to communicate with me. It would give me ideas and visions of breeding ass. Hes right about it needing to move on from us. It needs us to be willing partners in its quest. Once I stopped fighting and bonded with the virus. I gained the ability to practically sniff out neg ass.There is absolutely nothing more intense the nutting deep inside a neg guys hole. Especially if you're stealthing him. Absolutely pure heaven!

If you're on treatment and it's going well (as in you've got your viral load down to undetectable), you're effectively on a superior form of PrEP as far as HIV is concerned. So you get fucked by a guy with a strain of HIV that's resistant to one of your drugs. The other drugs you're taking are going to hit it. And that's if the new HIV even gets as far as trying to establish a new infection. One reason that PrEP works is that virus that's resistant to both emtricitabine and tenofovir is incredibly rare: it's only been seen a few times. Another thing to remember is that resistant virus is weakened virus. In time the wild type (non-resistant) virus crowds out the resistant virus, which is why many drugs can be re-used some years after someone's virus became resistant to them. The main reason for changing drugs is because of interactions and side effects: resistance is rare, but it does happen. The chances of getting laid by a guy whose virus is resistant to even two of your drugs is pretty remote. My personal feeling is that syphilis, gonorrhoea etc represent a far greater risk to my health than the extremely remote chance of taking on board a load that's resistant to all the drugs I'm on. In one respect it's time to go back to the seventies when the standard advice from any gay helpline was that sexually active gay men should be having a full STI workup every three months whether they have symptoms or not. STIs can do enough damage to people who don't have HIV, we're more vulnerable to them and a number of them have no noticeable symptoms...

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I usually will deep throat his cock when he starts to cum and I will always feel his urethra pulse as he cums down my throat. If he surprises me and starts to cum in my mouth I will always taste it and have a mouth full of cum to swallow. Only occasionally with I feel him actually squirting and it is really hot when I do

My dad raised me alone and from a very early age made it normal for me to see and touch his dick, help him get off and being touched by him there as well. Of course, this turned into a real relationship when I grew older and he started to fuck me several times each day. We played around with others, too (he was only top, but wanted to give me the chance to fuck as well), travelled a lot, kissed and held hands in public and fucked at every opportunity. Unfortunately, he died when I was 19... It was the best and most awesome time of my life.

i was started at 8......and i feel guilty because i am happy it happened.....and when i tell others they think i should be traumatized by it

On the plus side: In general, guys who are poz tend to be a lot more fun than guys who are neg. Of course, that's because what makes them fun is what got them infected. But once you convert, you've got access to pretty much as much slutty guilt-free sex with poz guys as you like. It's also pretty much a complete license to never use condoms again. When I was neg, there was the little voice telling me that letting complete strangers breed my ass all the time probably wasn't too smart (I never listened to it...as a bottom, I craved guys unloading inside me, and as a top, I almost never could maintain a hardon with a condom). Once I converted, there was absolutely nothing at all restraining me from barebacking all the time (with the caveat that I'm open with potentially neg partners prior to sex so they can make an informed decision). I'm happy and healthy and completely free of the hysteria surrounding sex we've had to deal with since the mid-80s. The downside: Meds are expensive. I have to make sure I always have health insurance. Occasionally, the side effects get to me. A few people, even in the gay community, still to this day freak out when they learn you have HIV. And bug chasers (as opposed to guys who don't know and don't care about their status), I have learned, can be really fucking annoying, pressuring you to breed them at every turn.