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Part 5- Ren’s hole was surrounded by a light smattering of black hair, with a tight brown pucker in the center. Slowly, I ran my finger across it, watching as it winked at me. Slowly, he pushed his asshole out and I watched as a glob of cum slowly drooled out. “Eat out my hole, slut,” he said, pulling his knees closer to his chest. I slowly I stuck my tongue out and took a cautious lick. The taste of anonymous cum and ass juices hit my taste buds. The bitterness of the cum mixed with the salty and sweet of his ass. The taste was all man. And I was hooked in that instant. I lapped hungrily at his hole, enjoying how cum slowly leaked out as I shoved my tongue deep inside, opening it up. Ren moaned, shoving his ass harder against it. “Good pig,” he said, relaxing his hole and forcing out another glob, “Suck those dirty loads out. Taste that poz cum on your tongue and know that’s going to be how your ass tastes tonight!” I shoved my tongue in as deep as I could and began to suck and lick the inside of the tight hole. Slowly, his ass started to let loose a steady drizzle of cum into my mouth, which I greedily ate. I continued to dart in and out, making Ren moan harder. Slowly my jaw began to ache, so I pulled away and spit on his hole and began to slid my finger into his slick hole. My cock began to throb as I watched his ass cling to first one finger, and then two. As his hole opened further, I slowly started to jerk myself, and then pressed a third finger to his hole. “Fuck, dude. That feels fucking good,” he said, grabbing his pipe and placing it in his mouth before handing me mine, “Relight that big fucking pipe and slide inside me.” Looking at the pipe in my hand, I bit my lip before looking back at him. “Are you sure?” “Light up, sexy, and dump your last neg load up my ass,” he said, deftly lighting his pipe back to full life before handing me his lighter, “We need to make room for all the new poz swimmers in those sexy young balls of yours.” I had never thought about topping, much less about becoming poz, but with his hole surrounding my fingers, so warm and soft, I needed to know what it would feel like on my cock. I took the lighter and mimicked Ren’s actions, slowly puffing the pipe to life. Watching as the tobacco glowed red deeper in the bowl, I took a deep inhale. Slowly I let out a massive cloud of fresh smoke. I felt the now familiar warmth spread from the pit of my stomach as I went to step up to his hole. That’s when I found a little flaw. His hole was definitely not going to be at the same level of my dick. Suddenly, I wicked thought entered my head. “Get on your knees, bitch,” I muttered. Ren gave me a sly smile around his pipe and got up, taking a deep puff on his pipe. Slowly he sat up and blew the smoke in my face. I answered in kind and puffed a large cloud back at him. “Yeah, boy,” he said, blowing out a large nose jet, “Suck that big pipe like you mean it. Take it nice and deep.” Scrambling around, Ren presented his perfectly toned ass to me, spreading one of the cheeks with his hand. He flexed his lubed up opening at me, causing it to wink. Unable to hold back, I climbed up on the bed behind him and began pressing my 6.5-inch dick against the spit and cum slathered hole. I increased the pressure a little, but feeling some resistance, I quickly went to pull back, afraid I was hurting him. Ren, however, had a different idea. Suddenly, I watched as he released his asscheek and grabbed my balls, at the same time pushing his slick hole down hard on my cock. I gasped and he moaned; a new wave of sensations spread across my body, radiating out from the warmth wrapped around my throbbing dick. I stayed still for a moment, relishing the feeling of my balls pressed tightly against his before finally, Ren spoke up. “Start movin’ bud,” he said, puffing away at his pipe, slowly making a small rocking, “I wanna feel those cum-shooters unloading in me while you ram that fucker in me. Mix your sweet neg cum in with the remains of all those random loads I already took. Feel how good all that bug juice is coating your cock?” At first, I wasn’t sure what to do, but with a little coaxing from Ren I slowly started picking up a rhythm. I began to time my puffs and inhales on the pipe with my strokes, loving how the room was building up with a haze as the clouds of my pipe smoke shot out of my nose and lips. Quickly enough, however, I felt my load start to build, my balls tightening as my ass clenched. “Oh…. shit…” I groaned around the pipe, “Not gonna last. Never knew topping would drive me to cum so fast!” “Fuck yeah, give it to me!” Ren said, giving me an appreciative smile, puffing away, “Shoot your hot load deep in there. Breed my hole like you know its meant to be.” My balls gave one powerful clench and I slammed my cock as deep as I could into Ren’s beautiful, muscular ass and unloaded rope after rope of thick cum. For a few minutes, I only stood there and panted. My cock was sensitive, and every squeeze of Ren’s ass muscles made me hiss in a mixture of pain and insurmountable pleasure. Finally, though, Ren pulled off my cock in a swift motion, rolling to the side. A few seconds later, he pulled me down with him and gave me a deep smokey kiss. “So, how was it?” Ren asked, rubbing my chest and nipples with his free hand, the other holding his pipe, “You enjoy dropping a nice load in there?” “That. Was…” I said, throwing my head back, “Amazing.” “Good. Loved feeling you shoot deep inside me buddy,” he said, slightly pinching my left nipple. I groaned as my cock slowly started to stir. “Fuck you’re really a horny one,” he said with a smile. Slowly, I ran my finger across the biohazard tatt on his pelvis. “Fuck that just looks so hot,” I said, tracing my finger along the edges as I slowly puffed on my pipe as well, “I want one so bad too. Think I’ll be poz after tonight?” “Well, like I said before, the night is still young. And Garrett and I are pretty fucking toxic. My viral load is sitting at a few hundred thousand, his probably a million or so,” he said, tracing his finger along the inked skin as well, “But don’t be upset if it doesn’t happen on the first time. Can even take hundreds of times before it takes.” “Shit!” exclaimed, thinking about his words, “Hundreds of loads in my ass? That sounds so hot!” “So fucking hot a sexy young fucker like you wants the bug,” he replied, playing with my quickly recovering cock, “Cute bug chaser like you is sure to get knocked up fast.” “Yeah,” I said, feeling his nice sized furry balls, “ Can’t wait until my balls are full of virus like you.” Grabbing my dick, I watched as he ran his thumb along the opening, making me hiss in pleasure. “Your dick would look amazing with a nice PA. Would love to be the one to pierce this nice piece of meat, and give you a nice poz tatt when you get the fucking flu.” My cock throbbed at the thought of seeing a huge PA in my dick head like Garrett’s, and a huge biohazard tatt on my stomach or pec. “You could do that?” I asked, smiling up at him. “Shit yeah, bud. I run a tattoo parlor here in town,” he said, flicking my nipples, “Would even be willing to give you some nice nipple piercings, in exchange for getting regular use of that sweet hole. Think of it as a gift for your poz birthday from me. Even give you a good discount if you let me ink you up proper.” “Shit yeah, that’d be hot to see the slut look like that!” Garrett’s voice said, interrupting us, “Hot to see you got him smoking like a proper pig. I’ll have to give him an extra gift for joining the brotherhood too.” I looked over and saw Garrett with a tall, hot looking red-headed bull of a guy, both of them puffing away on large black cigars. At any other time, I would have thought the guy was a straight football jock, what with his buzz-cut hair and facial scruff, muscled physique, and large powerful thighs, but the fact he was naked with what had to be a 10 inch long beer can size dick proudly sticking out of his groin told me otherwise. His large nut sack hung low, filled out with egg-sized balls. The large black scorpion across his massive chest told me Garrett had found me another hot poz load to take up my neg cunt. And boy did he deliver. “Took to it instantly,” Ren said, “ You’re gonna have to load this boy us with as many pipes and cigars as you can.” My cock throbbed at the idea of becoming a full-fledged smoker. “While you were gone I also got him to give me his first fuck. The slut really knows how to load up a hole for being a virgin.” Garrett looked at me seductively. “You load up that tight Asian hole for me after he knocked you up, boy?” Garrett said, walking up to Ren and feeling between his legs as he puffed away. “Yeah!” I replied, worried suddenly that I might have offended the sex god in front of me, or possible sounded too eager. “You enjoying smoking that sexy fucking pipe?” he continued. “God yes!” “Good boy. Now come over here and show our new friend’s cock some love while I give my sexy fucking Asian boy a recharge. We’re gonna have us a smoke-filled pozzing party for that cumdump of yours.”

7. Night of the Green Fairy It was early evening. Above the compound, the last light of day blushed scarlet between the treetop leaves. Deep male laughter and the clinking of dinner plates came from the main house. The cabana’s picture window shades were open, and from the courtyard tiki flames illuminated the room in flickering shadows. He sat up groggy on the edge of the bed trying to focus. For a second he panicked searching for his bag on the floor. It sat on the nightstand where he’d left it. The nightstand’s drawer was open. Although the room was dark, inside he saw the lube they used and poppers, but also a large assortment of dildos, some black, some flesh-color, white nylon rope, dog collars, cuffs and other stuff, things he had no idea what they were for. He closed the drawer and picked up his bag and shuffled to the bathroom mirror, flicking on the light to check his neck. It was fine, unbruised, still red though from Polanski the night before. He set the bag on the toilet. Manetti was good, going to extremes but knowing where to draw the line. His stomach growled as he stepped in the shower to wash off the crud of sex. He realized he hadn’t eaten anything since the Popeye’s chicken the night before. While he was drying off, a succulent fragrance wafted in the air. He looked in his bag and felt his clothes were still damp. Dang, why didn’t he remembered to hang them out? He was such a moron. He draped them on the shower rod. That left only the baggy red track suit to wear. He climbed into it, cinched his pants, but before going in search of food—and Manetti—he went out with his bag, crawled under the middle of the cabana and stuffed the green bag between two joists. He climbed back onto the pool deck, brushed dirt off his knees, and went to the main house. Tobias Glass stood at the head of a black lacquered dining table surrounded by his friends, Manetti among them. He was holding court in his favorite green silk kimono, pushing back the decorative katana sword holder on the side table to make room for the finished dinnerware. On a blue Flemish plate with windmills and Dutch girls dancing in clogs, lines of coke were being passed around. Tobias was a tall, thin man with wild, curly gray hair, whose eyes never rested, continually observing his guests, making sure everyone was enjoying themselves. He made his way around the table, making a comment, picking up a dish, running his long fingers through Chuck Brunswick’s wavy locks. Tobias was the first to notice Chris coming into the main house through the sliding door. Cheers erupted around the table as the boy slid the screen closed. “Sleeping beauty!” Manetti called out to him. “Everybody. This is the Chris Prior, Big Ben’s little brother, I was telling you about.” Knowing glances flashed around the table. “We finished, Chief, but I saved your plate.” He was embarrassed by sudden attention and a little uneasy about what Manetti had told the table. He smiled shyly at Tobias who had his hand parked on Chuck Brunswick’s shoulder. Brunswick wiggled his bushy eyebrows at Chris, one of his trademarked gestures that seemed to make its way into every episode. Chris’ heart skipped a beat. “Sit. Eat,” said Tobias, collecting the lasts of the dinnerware. The chair next to Manetti was empty. As soon as Chris was settled in Manetti served up several slices of pork tenderloin and asparagus with hollandaise sauce. Across from Chris sat Brunswick’s traveling companion, a very aristocratic, very pretty young boy only a year or two older than Chris. Tobias was making the rounds of introductions, saying he was sure Chris new Chuck Brunswick. Chris nodded assuredly, trying to stop himself from staring. “And his secretary, Andrew Hollister. Secretary? Seriously, that’s not what you’re calling him, dear,” he pleaded to Brunswick. “Personal assistant,” Brunswick said, smiling wryly. “Very personal,” said a short, muscular man at the end of the table. In his early thirties, balding, he sported a mustard-colored horseshoe mustache, and was passing his empty dinner plate up to Tobias. “Andy,” Andrew Hollister added to his introduction, not looking at Chris but tipping a rolled-up twenty dollar bill down to the plate of coke. For all his refined facial features, high cheekbones, dark hair that contrasted with his deep set blue eyes, he filled out his tank top, pecs and arms, with impressively cut muscles. On second glance, though, Chris couldn’t help notice his neck seemed a little thin compared to the rest of his bulk. “And at this end of the table, this little person barely able to get his wee arms up to the table,” Tobias continued, then said to the man in a mock aside, “I do wish you’d let me get you a booster seat, dear. You might recognize, if you can see him, Mister David Crusher, he of Crusher Gyms.” Tobias was ridiculing the short, but clearly not dwarfish man at the end. The man’s broad, generous smile oozed confidence, some might say conceit. Chris could tell he relished Tobias’ attention. He saluted Chris with a glass of water. Despite his stature Chris saw he was a serious body builder, hiding bulging arms and massive shoulders underneath his white hooded pullover. What hair he still had he buzzed short. It only accentuated his jovial face, topped off with a button nose, and a serious cleft in his chin. “He’s not going to recognize me, you daft old queen,” he said, clasping Tobias’ hand with mock pity. “But I know you forget thing so easily at your age. You really don’t remember Manetti telling us a few minutes ago this is the kid’s first time in New York?” Tobias smacked his hands away and took his empty dish to the side table. “Yo, Hip Hop,” Crusher teased Chris. His voice was surprisingly rich and deep, with a friendly jockishness that suggested he schmoozed easily with his clients and wealthy investors alike. “You know Manetti’s a low life. A clean cut kid like you shouldn’t be hanging around with the likes of him. You’ll get fleas.” “I’m hardy old,” Tobias injected, dabbing a napkin to his lips, then taking the dishes into the kitchen. “Listen, Fireplug,” Manetti responded to Crusher, “Stop trying to steal my date. The kid’s doing just fine. Trust me.” Chris gave Manetti a startled look to see if he was being as protective as he sounded. He also couldn’t believe Manetti called him his date. “Some wine, Chris?” offered the man sitting on the other side of him. He held up a bottle of Chablis. “Thank you. Just water, please,” he answered. The man poured him a glass. His black rimmed glasses had thick lenses that magnified his hazel eyes. He was fiftyish, had a long horse face that was kindly, almost handsome, and he, too, appeared to be built under his Columbia University sweat shirt. Pairing everyone off, Chris assumed he was with Crusher. “I’m so sorry,” cried Tobias hurrying in from the kitchen, and sitting at the head of the table. “Forgive me Chris. Last and definitely least is Mother, Mitchel Goodman,” Tobias said, waving a long green sleeve at the man next to Chris, “my wife of twenty-two long, excruciating years.” “Tobias, if you keep this up, we’ll have to seal you back in your coffin before any of the party guest arrive.” “Promises, promises. Now Michael, my pet,” he said, placing a hand over Manetti’s. “I know you said you and Chris want to keep a low profile, and you may if you must. But you do know you arrived on Towel Night.” Between gobbling down forkfuls of pork and asparagus, Chris asked what Towel Night was. He’d finished his plate and Manetti was piling on a few more tenderloin slices. Everyone glanced around the table suppressing grins. Crusher sniffed loudly and passed the tray of coke to Mitchel. Mitchel tapped Chris’ shoulder and offered more asparagus. Chris nodded enthusiastically. As he was serving, Mitchel explained, “Tobias and I host a bacchanal for selected guests, no more than twelve or fourteen mind you, men that throughout the summer have caught his and my eye.” He set down the asparagus and quickly bent down and snorted two lines, then perked back up and continued a little more brightly. “The Towel Party is a Fire Island institution! It’s not suitable for wallflowers or twinks, but since you’re our house guest you’ll be treated like a dignitary.” Tobias broke in, “Or at least a novelty.” The men all laughed except Manetti, who eyed Chris. Tobias went on to explain further, “A white towel and eye mask along with an invitation were left on each of the invitees’ doorsteps late last night.” He added to the table as an aside, “This year, gentlemen, you won’t believe the variety. A potpourri of perversity!” To Chris he said, “The invitation is for ten o’clock, and the celebrant is expected to wear the towel, mask and nothing more.” “One question, Mr. Glass,” interrupted Andy, finishing his Chablis. “Aren’t most houses home to several men, for the most part? How do they know whom the invitation is for?” “That’s the fun part. Self-selection,” Tobias answered. “It’s a house’s decision who they designate. And they almost always select the most philistine participant, making for the most delicious, unpredictable party. Even if it turns out to not be the one Mother and I had an eye on, the collective house knows best, don’t they dear?” Mitchel agreed wholeheartedly. “The result is always better than we could have anticipated or hoped for—and always in surprising ways.” “Chris?” Mitchel said, passing the coke tray to him. “No thank you, sir,” he said, passing the tray to Manetti, finishing his last bites of food. Manetti said, “What. You’re suddenly a prude about drugs?” “I’m still eating,” Chris complained. “And I don’t want to.” “Oh, Mother,” crooned Tobias. “An old married couple already, just like us.” “Do it,” was all Manetti had to say. Chris growled and snatched back the tray glaring at Manetti. After coming back up and wiping his nose, Chris said, “Mr. Glass. What is a bacchanal?” “Oh, dear,” said Tobias. *** The small dinner party had moved outside. Down in an unlit fire pit, Brunswick sliced the air with the sheathed katana blade, showing Chris and Crusher some swordfight moves from a recent episode. Chris watched enthralled. Crusher was duly impressed. Andy not so much. Manetti had maneuvered Tobias to get him alone by the pool, and was quizzing him about boats for sale. “Drax authorized me to purchase a yacht for him, that’s what brought us here.” “I can’t quite picture Drax on the open sea,” said Tobias, lighting another cigarette as he put out his first. Mitchel walked by, frowning at Tobias as he passed, holding coffee mugs for Brunswick and Crusher. “Don’t give me that look, Mother. It’s only my second.” “He has some idea about a new video,” Manetti went on. “Something like Chris the cabin boy, or something like that.” “Mmm. Sailors, pirates, swarthy men who haven’t bathed in months, capture an innocent boy and teach him the ways of the sea. Ah, the timeless story.” Tobias raised his hand as if reading a marque. “Shanghaied and Seduced. I’d buy that. Hell, I'd produce it if Drax would let me on the set.” He took a long drag off his cigarette. “Well, as a matter of fact, we have some acquaintances that own a mortuary in Montclair. Very macabre characters, with unseemly tastes. If half the rumors are true I certainly wouldn’t leave Chris alone in their company. They’re calling it quits after twenty years. Such a pity. Boris caught Roger milking the milkman.” From the fire pit Mitchel corrected, “He was a beer distributor.” “Shush. A milkman makes for a much better story. Anyway, they’ll be docking here in the morning. They always take the week before the Fourth off. If you’re serious I can have them for brunch, but only if you’re serious. They are undertakers, after all. Not really the life of the party.” He exploded with laughter. Manetti snorted. “I have a feeling that aside from all the mishegas of selling the business, the house, oy, I can’t image, they’ll most likely want to get rid of their yacht.” Mitchel came up behind Tobias and rested his hands on his shoulders. “Who will get Wallace, do you suppose?” “Oh, dear. I hadn’t thought about their Great Dane. Poor Wallace. I suppose they’ll have to split him in half.” The two men chuckled. Manetti pressed, “How much do you think a boat like theirs would run.” Mitchel squeeze in next to Tobias on his lounge chair, “They bought it ten years ago, didn’t they?” Tobias nodded. “That yacht at today’s prices? Maybe one hundred fifty, sixty. I wouldn’t go any higher. Have you seen how worn and cracked the outdoor seating is?” Mitchel said sliding his hand over Tobias kimono sleeve. “Almost as cracked and worn out as they are.” Mitchel croaked, while Tobias gave him a playful slap on the wrist. Chris had overheard part of the conversation about yachts and, since Brunswick had finished his demonstration and was putting the sword away, he drifted over with his hand behind his back. He was feeling mischievous from the coke and also a bit daring from all the male attention he was getting. He dropped his clothes next to Manetti and then did a cannon ball next to him. The spray soaked Manetti's entire back, water dripped over his forehead. “That’s it, you little prick,” he said, stripping off his jeans and vest. He dove naked into the water chasing Chris who was squealing with delight. The dinner party gathered round the pool laughing as Manetti caught up with Chris, picked him up by the neck and legs, rose the naked boy kicking high in the air, and threw him into the deep end of the pool. Crusher stripped off his top and shorts revealing a large, semi-erect woody. He dove in and swam up next to the submerged Chris. Chris popped up wiping his eyes. He said to the boy, “I told you he was low rent scum, didn’t I?” He ran his hand up Chris’ torso. “You come stay with Uncle Crusher when you get back in the city. I’ve got a guest room and I’d like to see what I can do with this body,” he said, as underwater he groped the boy’s hairless crotch. Manetti quickly swam up and got between Crusher and boy. “Afraid he’s got other plans, Uncle Crusher.” Manetti wrapped an arm around Chris’ torso and swam away with his charge. “What, you got a monopoly on the whole family, Manetti?” Crusher bellowed. “Gentlemen, niceness. I’m sure there’s enough Chris for everyone, isn’t there Michael?” Tobias ventured. “Not for free, there isn’t,” Manetti said, urging Chris out of the pool. “What a crab, Manetti,” Chris said, grabbing a white towel and going back over to the fire pit. Manetti followed him, wiping himself off and settling into one of the chairs next to Chris. Brunswick came over and sat opposite Chris. He pulled off his shirt flexing his chest, clearly for Chris’ benefit. The boy toweled his hair, astonished seeing in real life what he’d fantasized about so often in his bedroom back home. “Yeah, Manetti, what a crab,” Crusher said, joining them with his own towel tucked around his waist. Manetti finished drying, popped his butt up and wrapped the towel around himself. Instead of following the others, Chris flung his towel around his shoulders and sat provocatively with his legs spread wide for Brunswick benefit. Tobias and Mitchel had gone in the house and were bringing back several glasses filled with a fluorescent green liquid. Tobias took a look at Chris who was starting to get an erection. “Oh dear,” he said, handing the boy a glass. “And before any of the guests arrive.” “What is this, Mr. Glass,” Chris asked, as Tobias and Mitchel finished handing out the spirits. “It’s called le fée verte, a Towel Party tradition,” Tobias replied. “The green fairy,” Andy translated for Brunswick trying to distract him from Chris’ noticeable and none too shabby hairless boner. “Absinthe?” guessed Brunswick. “Certainement,” responded Mitchel. “We always have a shot before the festivities begin.” Crusher sniffed his glass. “They say, absinthe makes the heart grow fonder.” He looked up at Chris. The boy didn't really get the joke but liked Crusher and snickered anyway. Andy held his glass to the light of a tiki torch. “But it’s illegal, isn’t it?” Brunswick clucked his tongue turning to Andy. “And how many lines of coke have you done tonight, young man?” He ran his hand up Andy’s smooth leg, into his shorts and gave a squeeze. Andy beamed an embarrassed but radiant smile, a smile that showed just how smitten he was with the actor. “It's illegal? I’m in,” Chris said. He downed his glass all the while looking at Manetti. “Oh, yuck. Man! Nasty.” “Dear, boy,” Tobias rushed over to Chris. “It’s meant to be sipped.” He ruffled his blond mop. “Ew, I could just eat you up! Now, if you’re good," he said conspiratorially, "I’ll show you a little trick, but you’ll have to come to the table to see it. And you have to wrap your towel. You’re distracting everyone. Look. Poor Mister Crusher can’t keep from poking through his towel.” Several of the men took small sips. Manetti downed his absinthe in one defiant gulp, and followed Chris and Tobias to the patio table. Crusher followed and, true to what Tobias said, was having a time of it trying to keep his towel tied around himself with his very impressive hardon tenting out. When Manetti and Chris sat down on either side of Tobias, he refilled their drinks. Brunswick and Andy grew curious and gathered round the table. Over the two refilled glasses Tobias produced two slotted spoons and set them atop the rims. From the table’s sugar bowl Tobias picked out two sugar cubes, dipped them in his own absinthe and set them on the spoons. Mitchel dimmed the porch lights, then brought over a book of matches and lit the cubes. They all watched as a ghostly green flames wavered above the glasses. Tobias informed the group, “This is the old bohemian method of drinking absinthe.” He twisted the spoons and let the flaming cubes fall into the glass. The entire contents lit up, casting a bright green light over the men's faces. Chris was fascinated with the green fire. Manetti tried to look indifferent but felt slightly hypnotized by the light. Tobias extended his kimono-draped hand over the flame. “Et voila! The flaming green fairy.” “Appropriate,” quipped Crusher. That got even Manetti laughing. “Baudelaire loved it this way,” Mitchel said. Andy added, “I read so did Oscar Wilde.” “It brings out all sorts of dark impulses—‘harbinger of our darkest angels,’ wrote Poe.” Tobias stated. “You’ll soon see why Van Gogh painted in the manner he did. Now no cutting off Chris’ ear,” he wagged a finger at Manetti, who had no idea what the man was talking about. Chris held up the clouded green liquid and blew his out his flame. He waited till it was cool enough to drink and tasted a sip. “It’s like licorice,” he said. The rest of the men wanted to try their absinthe this way. Manetti shot back his again in a single gulp. As Tobias poured out another round, Mitchel warned everyone that cooking the absinthe made it a lot stronger and brought out the legendary hallucinatory qualities. “Yes, Mother,” Tobias sighed, igniting everyone’s drink. “Mr. Brunswick?” Chris said, feeling his chest. The combination of the coke and the initial effects of the absinthe had brought him round to seek advice from his hero. “Call me Chuck, Chris,” he said, blowing out the flame in his glass and taking a sip. “Mr. Chuck? I mean Chuck,” Chris snickered. He started tweaking his nipples without realizing it. Manetti pushed his hand down. “Um, what was I going to say? Oh yeah.” He took another sip before Manetti took his glass away. “You remember that episode where these crooks confronted a crooked cop, killed him and stole all his money?” “That set up, Chris,” he responded, rubbing a hand through his fleecy chest. He too was starting to feel the green fairy. “That seemed to happen in a lot of episodes.” “Yeah,” Chris said, looking at his idol’s chest, the pecs so round, his shoulders so hard. “Um, if there was a third guy that didn’t know any better, but the crooks got him to fetch them the illegal money, ‘cause the money was from drugs that the dirty cop had been skimming from, and this third innocent guy kills the two crooks, and steels their money, would Stacks Lightning still to track him down?” Manetti caught a quick exchange between Mitchel and Tobias. “He’d say the money should be turned over to the police, I would guess.” “But if he didn’t? If say, he bought…?” Chris looked at the mustache and wondered what it would feel like if Chuck was sucking his cock with the mustache brushing his skin, "bought a yacht..." or if they got into sixty-nining and the mustache was tickling his balls. “Dirty money has a habit of getting people dirty, son.” “That’s what I say, too. Makes you dirty,” Chris looked over at Manetti. “Real dirty.” There was a knock at the compound’s archway. The door opened, and an extremely buff Latino man with long caramel hair strolled in accompanied by a regal Black man with long flowing dreadlocks and a burly brown-bearded bear of a man. They all wore towels, their white masks and varying degrees of smiles. Tobias got up to greet his first guests putting on his own mask, while Manetti picked Chris up under his arm, saying he wanted to talk to him. He dragged the protesting Chris to their cabana, tossed him on the crusty bedsheets, and locked the door. “That’s it for you tonight. You’re grounded.” “No,” whined Chris, finding it difficult to get off the bed. “I want to play with those guys. I want to play with Chuck.” “You got too big of a mouth.” Chris was about to holler, but Manetti covered his mouth and pinned him to the bed. He raised a finger to warn Chris to behave, but Chris was struggled drunkenly and noisily. Manetti, too, was starting to feel the effects of the absinthe and knew he had to act quickly. He opened the nightstand’s drawer. He rifled through the paraphernalia. Out came a muzzle that went over Chris face. He cinched it tight. Chris tried to speak but his voice was severely muted. Manetti then took out some rope, tied the boy’s hands together and looped it into a discreet eye hook behind the headboard. Chris rolled around trying to get up but Manetti used his weight to secure the boy, first tying one leg, then the other, till the boy was spread eagle on the bed. He battled against the ropes, but the brat wasn’t going anywhere. Once he was assured Chris couldn’t escape, he observed his helplessness. Maybe it was the green fairy but he was starting to get arouse. His cock stirred beneath the folds of the towel. He looked the boy over, his eyes squinting with brooding thoughts. He sided up next to him and started stroking the defenseless boy’s cock, wanting him excited as he was. “So I’m a crab, am I?” Chris stopped contesting, and lay still. There was a new tone in Manetti’s voice, not quite playful anymore, a note of corrupt intent. “You know you've been trouble all night. You've been disobedient.” The tone his father took when he was about to get a beating. Manetti starting scanning the room. “Do you think I haven't noticed the gym bag’s not here. Where is it? What did you do with it?” he asked menacingly, not playing around. Not playing with his dick, just gripping it hard. Genuine fear lit up in Chris’ eyes. Manetti reached into the bondage drawer and brought out a thick studded dog collar. “I think it’s time we play a new game. A game where you learn your place, the same way Drax schooled me.” He locked the collar around Chris’ neck. He shuffled through the drawer’s contents, found something that brought up an evil smile. He pulled out a roll of copper wire and an electro stimulation kit. "I can stretch this game out for a very long time and it never leaves a trace. Or you can tell me where it is. The bag." Hearing no response, slowly he wrapped each one of Chris’ testicles tightly so they each stood out away from his body. He then attached alligator clips to the end of each wire and connected it to the kit. “Where it is?” He lubed his fingers and rubbed the tip of Chris erect shaft. With his other hand he turned on the machine. Chris instantly felt as if rubber bands were snapping his balls. The ceaseless electric shocks made his body dance on the bed. Manetti turned the dial down, and repeated the question. Chris refused to answer as much from his inborn stubbornness as resistance to Manetti coercion. Manetti turn the dial up again. He continued to rub the kid’s nob, beginning to confuse Chris’ sense between pleasure and pain. “The money, kid. Where. Is. It?” He turned the dial higher and stroked his fist tighter around Chris’ erection. Chris pleaded under his muzzle for Manetti to stop. Feeling the power he had over this boy, Manetti started playing with himself. He asked Chris, “It almost feels good, doesn’t it?” He jacked them both. “Almost.” He upped the voltage again and Chris shuddered, real tears forming in his eyes. “Under the house,” he confessed through his muzzle, praying Manetti would stop. “Which house? This house?” Chris nodded. “Too many people outside.” Manetti looked wild contemplating his next move. He stared at Chris like a stranger, his dark brows scowling. His looked changed from anger to hurt. “Why’d you hide it from me?" He dialed the kit back up not for fun but to make him feel pain like he felt. "I could have just swiped it you know.” The voltage going through his balls brought out a screamed but party music played and a large chorus of men milling around muffled his cry. Chris yelled for help. That made Manetti’s mask switch back to anger. He dial the machine up even higher. Chris repeatedly begged for him to stop, but his pleas were easily drowned out by the din and disco music. Manetti closed his eyes. He’d never saw this side of Manetti. Didn’t want to. “Stop!” came out as a muffled plea. Manetti turned off the kit. On re-opening his eyes were clouded, it looked like he didn’t recognize Chris, only that he had a tied up naked body before him. From the drawer he withdrew a leather hood that covered Chris' head down to his cheeks leaving only two hole for his eyes to peer through. He laid a case on the bed and unzipped it. The case revealed twelve shiny metal instruments, long rods whose widths ran from thin to very thick, secured onto a bed of red velvet. Manetti removed one of the thinner ones. He was still stroking the thin body of the boy, but stopped momentarily to grease the rod. “You need to mind completely. Do whatever ever I say when I say it.” He pushed Chris’ pole straight up. With his pinky finger, he pushed lubricant into the boy’s piss slit, then held the instrument against the opening. He let it slide in about an inch, sending shockwaves over Chris as he realized what was about to happen. Manetti took a firm grip of his cock and stroking it, encouraged the weight of the rod to penetrate the boy’s urethra. It slowly made its way down. At first Chris bucked against the invasion, but that made the rod fall even faster so he stopped, tried to accept it, and felt it ooze steadily and unrelentingly downward. He flung his head back and forth at the odd and unnatural sensation. Never thought anything could enter him so intimately, so overwhelming his sense of what could and what couldn’t be done to his body. With every inch he wanted to it out of him, but with every inch it seduced him by its callous indifference. There was a slight S-shape bend in it, and about four inches in, it fell quickly in line with the contours of his channel, slid swiftly in all the way. Manetti then once again started stroking him. The thrill of steel violating his body like this, having Manetti control all his senses, was enough to bring him to an orgasm in spite of the perversity or perhaps because of it. Manetti read how the faceless body bucked in his hand. He released the cock and let it bob on its own, as the kid twitched but didn’t cum. He pulled the tip of the rod almost all the way out then let it slide back in again on its own accord. After minutes of these internal dick fucks, Chris grew to desire this new feeling of his penis being tortured, loved that Manetti was his torturer. When Manetti allowed him to jerk his cock into his hand, Chris realized this man could do anything to him he wanted. “Are you a good boy?” Manetti pulled out one of the thicker instruments and held it up to Chris to contemplate. Chris shook his head both with fear and excitement. “No, you won’t be good?” Chris nodded that he would. “Oh, you’re saying you want this?” Chris shook his head no. “Doesn’t really matter what you want, boy.” The man pulled the tip of the sound out, lubed the new thicker rod, pushed more lube in his slit and held the sound against Chris’ thin opening. “I’ll eventually fuck your cock with my pinkie. Think you’ll like that?” Manetti pushed the thicker sound into his piss slit. Chris cried No! under his muzzle, but the heavy rod dropped steadily and painfully down his shaft, stretching it wider than his urethra was meant to stretch. The boy rasped inside his muzzle, his body shaking at the odd and torturous discomfort. Manetti had started stroking him again, again confusing his receptors, unable to determine whether he wanted this feeling or wanted it to stop. Manetti wouldn’t stop either way so he laid there while the rod inched his way down, aided by Manetti’s pumping fist. The rod halted about three inches into his shaft. Manetti eased his grip and with his fingers started rubbing the spot in his shaft just below where the sound had stopped. The finger stimulated Chris’ urethra, involuntary inviting the painful invader to continue its journey. It fell in deeper. Manetti kept at him, lightly scratching further down his shaft, provoking the painful acceptance of the monstrously thick instrument. Tiring of how long it was taking, Manetti pushed the remaining inch of the sound into Chris, who let out a muffled holler of pain. He then took sadistic delight in pulling the large rod out and back in, spending an extraordinary amount of time watching the boy’s body go from excruciating agony to mild excitement and, eventually, complete rapture. The boy gradually began fucking the air, gyrating his hips. “Good little pain pig. That’s it, be daddy’s pain addict. You like this, don’t you, fucker.” Chris' brain was too addled to respond. All he knew to do was fuck the air harder to keep the instrument poking his prostate. He’d convulse uncontrollably, then return to fucking the fucker inside his shaft. He was ready to blow but Manetti felt darker impulses emerge. He pulled off the boy's mask and intimately appraised Chris face. How easy it was, Manetti thought, to pervert the boy. How the kid’s instincts, being Ben’s brother, were on the slutty side anyway. He decided he wanted to be the one to push him over the edge, make him a dirtier pig than even he was. He left the sound where it was and searched the drawer withdrawing several plastic tubes, a metal ball clam and hex key, and a hand pump, and placed all of it on the bed. “You think you’re some fucking clean cut kid. But I know there’s a dirty street whore in you, a homeless pussy boy who'd do anything for a meal, anything for his next fix.” He licked the kid’s nipple and placed one of the smaller tubes over it and pumped it till it sucked in a good inch of the kid’s tit. He did the same for the other one. It didn’t hurt but Chris saw how plump his nipples were in the vacuum. Soon he’d have utters like Manetti and Master Drax. Manetti unwrapped the copper wire and pulled Chris’ balls painfully down, locking the thick ball weight around his stretched testicles. With the hex key, he locked it in place. “Who owns you now, boy?” “You do, Sir,” Chris called out from under the muzzle, hoping Manetti would let him go. “Hardly mine yet, boy,” Manetti replied. “Soon though. Sometime tonight you're going to prove to me you're a whore. Only then will you'll be mine.” He picked out a very large butt plug with a metal strip running down it. He generously applied lube and twisted it into Chris ass, who grunted as it was going in. As it stretched his ass open to the object’s full width, Chris’ protesting cries came to a crescendo. His ass lips slipped over its wide smooth edge and, as it quickly narrowed, his sphincter pulled it into himself. Chris breathed heavily trying to adjust to the huge object now inside his rectum. Its base kept his anus opened with a constant three inch stretch. Manetti took the wire that came out of the butt plug’s base and connected it into the electro kit. He then took an alligator clip and attached it to the tip of the thick sound going into the boy's shaft. He adjusted some setting and flicked it on. “This cycles up for a very long time before it comes back down. You’re going to love it. Or maybe not. I didn’t at first, but Drax used it to finally persuade me to not only use my hole, but to be it.” Chris felt the first tiny spark slowly run down his penis, then snap sharply through his prostate and land on the metal edge of the butt plug traveling from inner tip slowly ascending out to his sphincter. Once the journey ended, it began again. Tip, to root, snap through his prostate, and run out his hole. It didn't really hurt, more or less tickled. “Do you know the story of the frog who was put in a bowl of warm water and was slowly boiled to death?” Manetti asked the muzzled Chris. “That’s the setting on the machine. It's called the boiled frog. The voltage increases so slowly you won’t realize when it eradicates what's up here,” he said, tapping Chris’ temple. “After, all you’ll see yourself as, is as a hole.” The spark was manageable. Not painful. Its regularity was almost soothing. Almost. Manetti got up and after washing up in the bathroom came back in and searched his jeans, pulling out a small baggy of white powder. “Holy Christ, do you even know how hot you look right now, baby? I don’t know why," he said with glossy eyes, "but I'm lovin' the idea of whoring you out all night. I want you to take so many loads you’re going to be shitting cum into next week.” He returned to the bathroom and soon came back with two orange-capped rigs. Tapping the vial to the light, Manetti said, his voice dispassionate and clinical, “This’ll get you through the next hour. You want to flirt with Crusher and Brunswick? I’ll let you play with them all you want. I want everyone to play with you, but first they gotta pay. Don’t move your arm.” Manetti felt for a protruding vein, stuck him, saw the flash of red, and slammed him good. Chris coughed beneath the muzzle. Manetti ran a hand across his hot flesh, his skinny ribs, the smooth concave belly. He lightly stroked the boy’s flicking dick. The kid responded with the expected quiver everywhere he touched. He removed the muzzle. “You want dick, don’t you, boy?” Chris licked his lips as if starving. “Yeah, Sir,” he said in a steady and determined voice, eyes like large black pearls. “Lots of dick. And fist, Sir. Lots of fists.” Chris bobbed his head eagerly, mouthed a silent thank you. Every now and then his hips twitched as the voltage leapt through his prostate. “Don’t thank me yet,” Manetti responded, uncapping his rig. He stuck himself, rode the rush, and steadied himself with a hand on the door. He turned off the lights, opened the drapes, and left Chris to spin, while he went out to fuck someone or get fucked, he didn’t give a fuck which, and then come back to fetch Chris for his first trick of many. The door clicked shut. In the dark, Chris laid spread eagle on the bed, rushing wildly, shuddering lightly. Pain sat with him so he wasn’t alone. It was becoming familiar, pain was, not a friend exactly—maybe more of an escort. He glanced through the window, each round of electricity growing a little more pronounced, drilling a bit deeper into his permanent hard wiring. He looked up. Outside, in the wavering light of the pool, a sea of a thousand naked men swam toward him. ***

Nice time earlier at ABS. I went into back room, the smell of poppers strong, and saw two guys fucking. Both looked to be in their 20's, skinny, but with some scruff on their faces so not complete twinks. I walked over to the one standing up fucking the other, who was bent over on a bench on his knees. He looked at me and smiled, so I came closer to check out the action. He was fucking the bottom's hairy ass with a modest 5" cock, wearing a rubber. I started rubbing the bottom's ass cheeks, and telling the top what a good job he was doing. I noticed bottom guy took another hit of poppers, so I reached down and felt the tops cock moving in and out. When he had backed up, I grabbed his hardon and looked at him and slid the condom off and threw it on the floor. Then I lined his cock back up to the hole and he resumed his fucking, this time raw. I leaned in to his ear and quietly told him to enjoy and empty his balls in that ass. His pace increased, and I kept coaching him on, telling him to nut in his whore. He must of liked that cuz he instantly started cumming, and I put my hand on his ass to make sure he stayed deep. The bottom was being quiet like a good boy all poppered up. Once he was done nutting, he tucked his cock away and made for the exit. I quickly took his place behind the bottom, and slowly pushed my cock into the cummy hole. Damn he was tight still, as my cock was a bit bigger than the last one. The bottom wriggled a bit, but I grabbed his hips and told him to just relax and hit his poppers. He did just that, and I told him how good it felt to fucked his cum hole, and what a big load the last guy gave him. I slow fucked him for about 10 minutes before nutting in him. I pulled out and wiped my cock on his ballsack and ass cheeks, and put my index finger in his hole just to feel my cum in there. I patted him on the ass and told him thanks, and left with him still ass up.

I just left the ABS with only one load in my snatch which I received through the GH. The Dude entered the neighboring cubicle, and looked through the GH to find me naked and waiting. His cock immediately got hard, but before he stuck his thick uncut meat through the GH he suited up. I was in a quandary as my hole needed cock, but if he wore a condom my guts wouldn't get coated with his cum. So, like a proper cumdump, I started sucking him, condom and all. However, I somehow managed to 'accidentally' bite the tip off the condom. I then backed-up onto his cock, properly pleasuring the stranger, riding him hard through the GH. His cock started expanding so I held still, allowing him take over to finish inside my ass. I heard him moan and groan as his cock swelled and spurted. He pulled out and, through the GH, I watched him pull off a relatively empty spunk bag off of his cock. Feeling my hole, I found it full of tasty stranger goo! After he left, I went and double checked. Yep. The top was missing from the condom my involuntary breeder had used. He never knew.

Agreement to everything Fistcumslut said. I'm inspired by everyone's posts. You're all invited to Tobias Glass' next Towel Party!

FT. LAUDERDALE - Since it's Valentines Day I guess I'll let you guys know I've been "dating" someone. He's a sexy 20-something, darker skin than mine, and part-time model and porn actor. He's that guy with the big cock that is a bottom and we all say "What a waste of a dick!". But I am just as infatuated with his ass as I am the big dick. Over the past month I've bred him 4 or 5 times. Last night was hot -- my grandpa (he's 91) lives with me during the winter. I had the boy spend the night. We went to bed one room over from grandpa's room and we tried to be as quiet as possible because the walls are then - but I'm got my thick cock up his hole and fucked him for about 30 minutes before we collapsed on the bed and fell asleep. Today, when I took him back to his house, we fucked in his room with the windows open while one of his roommates sat outside by the pool. I'm kinda turned on by the fact the sex is amazing and we don't care who may hear or see us fucking. It's so hot! We will be making a video soon and when we do, I'll let you guys know.

Here's part 2, guys. Hope you like it. My body was tingling all over from the drugs and I was so turned on by the four guys who were all there to breed my ass. My Dad had arranged it and now here I was feeling like I just wanted their cum loads, I needed them. Deep inside me. I didn’t care about anything else, except their hard cocks shoved inside me.

 Eric was the first to make a move. “Get up on the bed, faggot,” he said. I jumped up and got on the huge bed with my ass in the air. Eric shoved his hairy face up against my boy twat and started to eat my ass.

 I moaned in pleasure. Dean walked over and started to kiss me and then gave me another shotgun of T, like I needed to get any higher. He pulled away and said “we’re gonna get you fucked up, faggot, then rape you.” I just moaned. This guy knew exactly what I wanted.

Jose and Chris were making out with each other and passing shotguns back and forth.

Eric came up for air and I turned around to look at him. His beard was covered in cum that he had sucked out of my cumdump. Dean looked up and said “FUCK that’s hot.” He leaned over my back (not hard to do since I”m 5’5” tall) and licked the loads from my dad and the two Mall DILFs out of Eric’s beard. Then he leaned down to share them with me. He shoved his tongue in my mouth and I could taste the salty jizz that I love so much. We passed the loads back and forth until they were gone and then I felt Eric stand up.

Dean got up and Jose moved over on the bed to shove his fat, uncut 8” dick into my mouth. Eric pushed my head down onto Jose’s dick, and then my back down so my ass was higher in the air. 

 Then in one fell swoop, he plunged his cock (which was even bigger than Jose’s, maybe 9.5” also uncut) into my sloppy pussy.

I pulled up off Jose’s cock so I could moan loudly. 

“FUCK MEEEEEEEEEE. PLEASE BREED ME!”

All three of them laughed. Chris said “Fuck guys, I never though this guy would be both hot and such a dirty little faggot. Only 18 too. Must’ve had some early training.” He knew full well by whom.

I looked up at him and grinned, and then went back to sucking Jose’s fat cock without saying a word. Gotta have a secret or two and, besides, cocksuckers need to be dedicated to getting hard cocks ready to breed greedy cunts.

Eric had plunged his cock all the way inside my dumpster. He was almost as big as my Dad. 

“Guys, this kid……hey faggot, what’s your name kid? Besides whore, cocksucker and cumdump?"

I pulled my mouth off Jose’s cock long enough to say “Justin.”

Eric laughed and continued “well Justin here has a well used hole. My cock is pretty long and fat and it just slid right in with no resistance. Pretty sure he’s never said no to a cock in his whole life.”

“Nope,” I said, briefly pulling my mouth off Jose’s short, fat cock. It was so fat I could barely get my lips around it. I couldn’t wait to get it up my boy cunt. I hope they had all seen my profile that said “all loads up my fagdump. No load refused.” Behind me, Eric started to slide slowly in and out of my ass, making me moan with pleasure whenever his huge cock pulled all the way out and then plunged back inside me. Every time he pushed all the way inside me, my face was pushed all the way down Jose’s cock, and into my throat. Daddy always told me I was a great deep throater. Jose’s loud moans and muttering “filthy cocksucker,” seemed to agree.

I looked over and Dean had turned Chris around so we were side by side on the bed with our boy twats in the air. Chris was tall, and had a thin, muscular body with lots of body hair. His ass was big and round and begged to be bred.

“Come on Dean, give me another load. My hole is begging for it.”

Dean laughed and said “your hole is always begging for a load, dude.” 

Dean stood up and walked around behind Chris, and I could hear him slide his cock up Chris’ hole. As soon as he bottomed out, he pulled back and I could hear a squishing sound. Chris was clearly loaded up, too.

“Fuck man, I love your cock inside me,” Chris said. Those four guys who were here earlier really bred me good. Dean laughed and shoved his cock back in Chris’ hole which elicited more loud moaning.

“They sure did. Your cunt is really loose and sloppy. Just like I like it.”

Chris moaned and said “yeah, when one of them was pissing on me, he said they’d been partying for a while, but none of them had cum yet. I’m glad all four of them shot loads in my cunt. Two of them twice! Six loads enough to lube up your cock baby?”

 I looked over at Chris, who’s eyes were closed and his face contorted with the same feeling I had. I was serving my purpose. I was getting high and taking a strange man’s cock up my ass, and it felt great.

Chris opened his eyes and looked over at me, then he scooted over so we could make out while we were getting fucked.

He shoved his tongue in my mouth and we kissed passionately and he whispered “you have to let Dean fuck you. His cock is amazing.” 

“Eric’s feels fucking awesome,” I said, and Chris told me that Eric was his husband and they’d been breeding each other’s holes for 4 years. “Lucky you, you get that fat stick to breed you all the time!” He just smiled and laughed and then moaned as Dean bottomed out in his hole again.

 We both lay there moaning while getting our cunts pounded by two long, thick uncut cocks. I was in heaven since I also had Jose’s fat cock buried all the way inside my faggot throat. Just where Daddy wanted me to be. I wished he could be watching me get used like a whore.

Eric and Dean were making out while they were fucking us whores, and decided to switch. Chris and I both turned over and held our legs in the air while the boys spat on their cocks and slid them into the new cunt.

Chris was right, Dean’s cock was slightly fatter than Eric’s and was really splitting me open, assisted by my swirling brain which was incredibly high. Jose decided we were not high enough and pulled out the pipe and gave me a shotgun which I shared with Chris. We laid there with the two tops switching off (with Jose occasionally taking a dip in one cumdump or the other)for a while. We were both in cumdump heaven with our holes wide open, being raped full of big fat cocks. Dean, in particular, loved calling us both “whore,” “fag,” “rapehole,” and other nasty words. I loved it. It just made my cunt feel more appreciated. My normally fat, 8” uncut dick had turned into a cocklet, completely shriveled up and I couldn’t care less. My purpose was serving cocks with my hole. I was letting complete strangers shove their cocks up my ass and just for good measure, I had one shoved all the way down my throat.

We stayed like that for a while, with Dean and Eric trading off between Chris’ cunt and mine. Jose seemed to prefer having me suck his rock hard cock (I later learned he loved blow jobs more than fucking ass). Good thing, since the only thing I love more than a cock in my pussy is one shoved in my mouth. Dean was plowing my cunt and spinning out a long list of dirty words when he slowed down and said “you want my load whore? You dirty little faggot. You need my cum in your pussy?”

I pulled my mouth off Jose’s cock and moaned “yesssss…..please give me your load. I need your cum inside me."

Dean laughed, “Like you ever had a choice. Like I would waste this load of jizz anywhere but inside your filthy cumdump. Nasty little fag, whored out by your own Dad.”

With that, Dean sped up. I could feel the sweat dripping off his body onto my back, while he pounded my ass so hard I couldn’t keep Jose’s cock in my mouth. I couldn’t stop moaning, and begging. “Please, Dean, fucking give me your cum. Knock me up with your fucking babies. My pussy is made for cum. It needs cum.” Dean laughed again and said “I think that’s the only thing your cunt is for, taking loads."

With that he pounded me a few more times, and roared. “I’m FUCKING CUMMING, FAGGOT! TAKE MY LOAD YOU NASTY FUCKING WHORE.”

All I could do was keep moaning and saying “thank you, thank you, thank you…breed me! breed me! breed me!” Eric and Chris had stopped fucking with Eric’s fat cock shoved all the way inside his boyfriend’s cunt so they could watch Dean’s epic raping of my pussy.

Once Dean collapsed on my furry back, panting, with his fat cock still jammed up my gaping cunt. Eric started to speed up again, and this time it was Chris’ turn to start moaning and begging for a load. “Fuck, baby, I need your load. Knock me up. I gotta have your cum in my pussy. You know how much I love it…”

Eric laughed and said “fuck, I sure did marry a dirty little whore. You want my load baby? Tell me what you want, fag boy!”

“Yes, baby, I gotta have it. Give it to me, prove that I’m your dirty little cumdump property. Knock me up!” 

“Here it comes baby boy. Daddy’s gonna give you his jizz. You ready? BEG FOR IT WHORE!” “FUCK YEAH! BREED ME BABY! I gotta have your cum”

Then Eric slammed into Chris’ ass one last time and you could see his nuts throbbing and a huge load of jizz going into Chris’ greedy hole. 

Chris moaned and kept repeating “fuck, yeah, give me that load baby. Give your boy your load. I need it so bad.”

This time it was Eric’s turn to collapse. He rolled over on the huge bed and his cock slowly slid out of Chris’ cumdumpster with a SLURRRRP sound. His cunt was well used and he was a happy little whore with jizz slowly beginning to drip down his ass crack and onto his leg.

 Finally, Jose said “FUCK that was hot! You guys are all so fucking sexy! MY TURN! Then he shoved his cock back in my mouth and started fucking my face. He only took a few strokes before he unloaded a huge load of spunk inside me. I held his load in my mouth, and then leaned over and snowballed it to Chris. 

He moaned loudly and then passed it to Eric, who moaned as well and then sat up. Chris was still on his hands and knees when Eric leaned down and shoved his face in Chris’ gaping cunt. He pushed some of Jose’s load into Chris’ ass and then moved over, pushed Dean aside and gave me the rest of it in my cunt.

I moaned “FUCK YEAH! Thank you baby! Give me that jizz!”

We all collapsed, laughing, in a heap. Dean pulled out a pipe and said “which one of you dirty fags wants more?”

All four of us said “ME!” Dean took a huge hit off the pipe and shotgunned it to me. Then he said “let’s find some more pigs to rape these two cunts. What do you say?” I was passing the shotgun to Chris and both of us moaned at the prospect of more men coming over to use us like the dirty fags we are.

This morning at 6:00 AM I received a couple of phone calls from my man, Ford. Honestly, initially I blew-off the calls, however once I got up I texted Ford, letting him know I would be running errands most of the day. However, as he apparently really wanted to get into my ass, he persisted, joking I was busy tricking with other guys, and simply didn't have time for him. Eventually he convinced me to come over to his place when I was done running around. When I was done with my errands I stopped by my place, and fortunately had enough time to give myself a good cleaning out. The I left for his place, and upon arriving, as usual, the door was unlocked so I walked in, only to find Ford chatting with a woman. I was slightly thrown-off, but they quickly concluded their conversation and she left. Ford and I immediately went upstairs and spread a sex blanket on the floor, we undressed as he looked me over, a big smile on his face. Whatever he was thinking was cool with me. The chemistry between us is great, and undressed Ford is a fucking Greek god with his tall stature, heavily muscled body, thick dick and heavy balls, and that beautiful cocoa dark skin. We start smoking a little to get in the mood, doing a little deep throating before Ford told me to lay back and relax, as for a first, he sucked my dick to the base, deep-throating my seven and a half inch uncut medium thick brown dick. I would have been happy if he had continued sucking me, but instead he paused, stepped into the bathroom where, I imagine, he cleaned himself out. After an absence of a few minutes the bathroom door opened, and as he approached I hoped to myself he wouldn't smell of soap, and to my pleasure, nope, his balls still had the delicious musky male aroma. As I lay on my back, Ford lubed up his ass and my cock, crouched over my pole and slid it right-up his hole. Damn if his muscle ass didn't swallow up every inch of me. He road my cock, and I responded by thrusting every inch of my cock inside his ass, eventually getting him on all fours so I could take him from behind. I fucked him for several minutes, and in pausing, found it kinda hot that when I withdrew, some of his clean ass juices plopped onto the blanket, looking like a lump of cum - but I could tell it was just good old ass slime. Ford was apparently done bottoming for the moment as his inner top took over. He had me lay on on my back, and, scooping the love juice from the blanket, he fingered it into my ass before adding some Vaseline and lube to the mix, then pushing his dick inside my hole. His dick felt absolutely perfect, having just the right amount of thickness to give my ring a stretch and make me feel it and moan in approval, yet also having just the right length so I would recognize a big boy was bruising my guts. As he fucked, he commented the lube was quite creamy, almost as if I had come pre-loaded. I wish! For the next 30 minutes or so, we switched into various positions including me on my stomach, and him on top of me facing the opposite direction, head to feet. Finally Ford told me to get onto all fours, having me back-up onto his dick, and taking the active role in bouncing up against his cock. s me get on all 4s and lets me back up and bounce against his dick. He had been fighting the nut for a while, having several times told me he was close to cumming, so when he next cautioned me, over and over I intensified my thrusts against his cock until he all but shouted "I'm cumming," and cum he did, cumming so violently I could actually feel the individual spurts of his cum blowing into my ass. After Ford had recovered his second wind he fucked me a little longer with that fat dick of his, but finally, his energy spent, he withdrew. Turning to kiss him, I found a sweet honeysuckle scented puddle below my ass. "Is that your nut?" I asked. "It's yours," he answered, adding "it oozed out of your hole." I think there was romantic innuendo there. Cool. We cleaned-up, dressed and I was on the road. As I still hadn’t actually nutted, once I got home I got my nine inch dildo, lubed it up and proceeded to continue the fuck the hell out of my ass while laying on my bed. The dildo was about the same thickness as Ford's cock, but somewhat longer as I like to keep my ass ready for that occasional cock which can push past the second ring. After extensively working my ass, I finally I got off, spurting everywhere. Cleaning the dildo, I found it nice and frothy and smelling like that honeysuckle from the blanket. Mmmmm. I’m gonna have to ask Ford if he wants me showing up pre-loaded next time. Good thing I’ve been freezing my loads.

You're looking for tips from Tops, of course, but as a bottom who's been on the receiving end (including twice in the last month!), let me give you a few pointers from my end: 1. This needs to be something you enjoy doing first and foremost. You need to enjoy the power and control you get from being able to decide who gets to fuck another man, who gets to unload in another man. If that doesn't light your fire in a very special way, whoring someone out is probably not worth the effort for you. The bottom also has to genuinely enjoy his submission to you and be committed to pleasing you by allowing himself to be fucked by the men you send. This activity is a special power dynamic, and it's fantastic for both men when it works. What you don't want is to find yourself with a lazy bottom who just wants somebody else to do his shopping for him, and starts picking and choosing from the men who arrive. At that point, you're not really in control. 2. Almost every bottom fantasizes about being whored out and used by a gang of Tops. That doesn't mean every bottom is a good candidate. If you choose to do it, make sure the bottom is going to be an active participant, and not lie there like yesterday's catch at the fish market. 3. Pimping a bottom resembles work. There are ads to place and respond to, conversations to start up at the bathhouse, the bar or the ABS, phone calls to make to your network of FBs - you are, in essence, a broker. You have to get the word out, in an experienced way, to the right people. 4. Check your scruples. Whoring a bottom lies somewhere between commodities brokering and human trafficking. Some Tops whore bottoms because they enjoy the rush of it, and get off on the power, but are generally benign. Others look at bottoms as lower-order animals and think nothing of actually prostituting them in a cash sense. Even though it would never bother me in the slightest if a Top or a Dom made money off my ass, the latter is a criminal offense. 5. It's not just about your pleasure, or the bottom's, for that matter. If you're going to be successful, you need to make sure that your clients, the Tops you attract, are pleased with their experience as well. The dynamic between the pimp and the bottom is important in making sure the sexual experience of the Top is a great one. It's all about the presentation, the setup, and the performance - especially in a group setting. The energy built or not built during a sex act will translate into what happens next. A group scene is more likely to give high-energy results than a series of one-on-one scenes, in my experience. What you say while it's going on - your words of challenge and encouragement - can ensure that. 6. If you're going to whore out a bottom, you may as well whore out two at once. From what I've been told, that seems to draw better results for some reason. 7. I'm not sure how to tell you to find the right bottoms for the job, except to suggest that you not take one on unless you've test-driven him first and know that he has the staying power to offer a loud, lusty fuck to several men in a row and has the experience to handle a wide range of cockery. As to how you actually go about locating, contacting and recruiting other Tops and suggesting they come fuck a specific bottom, I have no idea - you'll have to ask them. Whoring Tops, I'd love to hear this, too. If you have questions about my experience from the bottom end, fire away.

1. Apt #5C He was drenched. Dripping. The rain let up two blocks from the address he held in his hand, but too late. He was already soaked. Shoes squished climbing the stoop. Manetti/Prior, written in faded blue ink on yellowed masking tape, ink running in splotches, evidence of at least a year exposed to weather—rain, snow, cold; now heat and steamy humidity, even now near midnight—but those words he could make out. The second, his and his brother's last name. There was a stack of buttons each with tape next to it, each with a name or names next to hard, rusty buttons. Manetti is who he wrote to the second time, the time he asked if he could come out and stay with him, with them. The first time he wrote to his brother directly, but Manetti, Mike Manetti, answered for his brother. He wrote he didn't know where his brother was. He thought he might have gone back to his mother’s house in Long Beach. Back to California. Chris pushed the button. There were only quiet sounds of a summer Tuesday night in New York. Except for a cab slowly prowling down the street, the block was abandoned, desolate. A fire hydrant left open poured into the summer street. The cab's tires slushed through the puddle and drove off into the night. The facades of the streetscape was dreary, few building’s windows lit, most were boarded up. The one next to this building had a big 'Condemned' placard on the door. A movement in a trashcan at the bottom of the stoop. A rat emerged setting the lid ajar. A couple of needles lay on top of black garbage bags inside. No, he wrote to Manetti, his brother Ben hadn't come back to California. He, Chris, Ben's younger brother, lived in Long Beach with his mother—well, had lived with her, he wasn't exactly getting along with her at the moment—well, her boyfriend actually, which is why he was trying to get a hold of his brother. The letter he sent back to Manetti was rambling. He didn't have a place to live. His mother didn't actually ask him to leave, but every morning, usually at the bathroom, Carl, his mother's new boyfriend, posed, arm on door frame, menacingly in his heavily sweat-stained underwear, pee stain in the crotch. Chris would squeezed passed him. Every day it seemed Carl took up more and more of what was left of the space in the doorway, inched his underwear's yellow bulge closer and closer to him. The day he wrote to Manetti, he felt desperate. He had felt Carl's body heat as he passed under his arm, felt a wisp of his chest hair, a brush on his shoulder from Carl's black, musky pit. He felt Carl's wetness linger on his shoulder, his residual stink. Could he crash with them? He'd pay his way. He couldn't stay at home any longer. Please, he implored in his letter. Yes, Manetti wrote back. A single word. So Manetti. The door buzzed and Chris leaned into its weight as the bolt unlocked. After receiving Manetti’s reply, Chris, a month shy of graduating high school, stopped at his house to pick up some clothes. For the last couple weeks he was crashing in the back seat of his best friend's Impala. His mechanics job at the Chevron gas station where he worked after school and on Saturdays didn't pay enough for him to afford an apartment, but he had saved enough for a one way ticket to New York. California didn't seem to want him, and living in a car’s back seat wasn't living. Carl was a growing menace that was about to boil over into...he didn't know what. And didn't want to know. The type of menace in Carl’s eyes he was unfamiliar with. Abuse, yes. His own father was brutal to him and his brother sometimes. But there was something else he felt in his gut with Carl. Maybe lower than his gut. It stirred some excitement, but he wanted to get away from it before he knew exactly what its root was. Inside, the hallway was lit by a flickering fluorescent bulb. Two dogs barked in an apartment down the hall. There should have been two bulbs in the ceiling fixture, but one was flickering its way out. The halway was dim, full of shadows. A rickety staircase filled half the narrow corridor. He climbed five floors, each landing a bit dingier than the last, heavier in graffiti as he climbed. On the top floor landing it was nearly pitch black, but a door stood open a crack and a shadow draped in a flimsy robe hovered in the door frame. "You Chris?" a deep voice asked. Chris set his gym bag down at the landing and said yeah, catching his breath. He felt his heart beating. There was a momentary fight or flight response he was trying to suppress. He hadn't expected that he'd be fearful upon arriving at his brother's apartment, but his brother wasn't here. Just Manetti. Manetti moved a little forward, enough so the apartment's light spilled over his broad shoulders, put a halo in back of his long brown hair. Chris made out teeth, a bit of a smile. Manetti extended his hand and the two shook. “Manetti. Mike Manetti.” His grip was firm but the skin soft, a little clammy. "And your Ben's little brother Chris. C’mere!" Manetti pulled him forward, gave him a warm friendly bear hug. Chris could have stayed there in that embrace forever. There was a familiar smell to him. And strength. He hadn't expected it, but he suddenly felt relief; his worry and a continent-wide anxiety melted in that embrace. Manetti released him and looked him over. "Dog shit day out there, Chief. Thunderstorm didn’t even help. Looks like it got you bad. Get in here and take your wet sneaks off." Chris saw the robe was open and that Manetti was naked underneath. He caught a quick view of Manetti' dark hairy torso, thick uncut cock, donkey balls dangling between two muscular, wooly legs. He opened the door for Chris while at the same time knotted up his robe. Chris carried in his gym bag, his few pitiful things: gym clothes, another pair of worn jeans, two old t-shirts (The Romones, Adidas), underwear (dirty), socks (smelly). Manetti closed and bolted the door. Three separate locks snapped into place. "Sorry, I was thinking about going out. Didn't know if you'd get here tonight. It's pretty late." "No, yeah. Sorry." Chris was pretty quiet generally. Didn't like to talk. Always self-conscious of saying something dumb, a leftover from an over-critical father. He looked around at the filthy kitchen—sink full of dishes, ashtray full of butts, dark grimy windows—not much different from home, actually. It was kind of reassuring in a perverse kind of way. Manetti was giving him an intense examination in the kitchen light. He felt he needed to say something to distract from his self-consciousness. "Um, I waited a long time for the bus in Newark. And then I walked to the East Village from the bus station. Lot farther than I thought. I wasn't prepared for rain. Didn’t bring an umbrella. Didn’t really think I’d need one. Dunno why. Guess I'm an idiot." His voice trailed off. Usually he never even said that much. That was [robably more than he'd said in a week. He was nervous, a little frightened, and yet glanced up several times to get a better look at Manetti. “Sorry, I’m going on like a moron. I’m tired I guess. It’s been a long day.” "I can see that," Manetti said, ruffling Chris’ wet hair. “Take your things off and hang them on the window bars. Let ‘em dry out." Manetti picked up Chris' gym bag and tossed it next to the archway to the next room. The kitchen window had retractable bars. It was set at an angle to the building, faced a brick wall and shadowy darkness beyond. Chris looked up and gave Manetti a quick smile, then concentrated on kicking off his shoes. He peeled off his socks and shirt, hanging them through the diagonal bars. A light from across the airshaft flashed. The flash blinded him for a second, and maybe it was a residual image imprinted on his retina, but he thought he saw an outline of a figure lurking in the gloom across the airshaft. "Pants," said Manetti, snapping his fingers. It almost felt like an order, but Chris didn't seem to mind. He was, though, a little embarrassed especially because Manetti was so big compared to him. He looked like some of the dockworkers he'd seen in the port of Long Beach. Big and burly, a little intimidating. He felt the man's eyes running over his thin frame. He felt small, miniature even, in this tiny kitchen. His pant legs dripped on the linoleum but Manetti didn't seem to care. He sat down at the dinette table in his threadbare underwear, setting his back to the window, putting his folded hands in his lap. "Is the bag all you brought?" Manetti nodded to his gym bag. "Yeah, not much, right? I'm not used to packing. Never really gone anywhere. I didn't have no time. Just picked up what was on my floor." Chris noticed the robe had fallen open again revealing one of Manetti's dark, hairy thighs. He quickly looked around the kitchen. "Bathtub?" he said surprised that there was a bathtub in the kitchen. It sat right smack in the middle of the kitchen, dividing the room essentially in two. Didn’t know how he could have missed it when he first walked in. A metal top that doubled as a counter lay on top of it. "Yeah, it’s pretty common in these old walk-ups. Hey, you want some soup or something? I have some left over. Just need to heat it up." Chris nodded eagerly. He hadn't realized just how starving he was. He had a cheese sandwich on the plane but that was hours ago. Manetti was nice, he thought. His furtive glance took in his deep set brown eyes and thick black brows over a smooth forehead. Long brown hair and sideburns. It was weird his brother never spoke about his roommate. "How do you know Ben?" he asked. Manetti went to the fridge and took out a pot and started warming it up on the stove. "Met at a bath house last winter. Took pretty quickly to each other. He fucked me, then I flipped him. We did that all night. Didn’t hook up with anyone else. That night anyway. Then I moved in here with him a week later." Manetti gave him a once over to gauge his reaction as he stirred the soup. Then he added, "You don't really look like brothers." Chris was surprised by how frank Manetti was about being gay, especially that part about the bath house. We wished he could be that bold. "We're step brothers. My dad adopted him when he was sixteen, but that didn’t work out," Chris said. Chris stopped himself from saying more. He listened to the spoon stirring in the pot. It was pretty common for people to say, that they didn’t look alike. He had thin blond hair, almost white, parted on the side, was skinny and on the short side. He liked wearing his hair shoulder-length, whereas his brother had almost a lion’s mane of thick dirty blond hair he always wore in a ponytail. It was one of the first things he could recall, Ben's ponytail. Ben was tall, athletic, broad chested, ten years his senior. They both had their mother’s wide face and striking blue eyes, but that’s where the similarity ended. Ben ruled any room he was in. People flocked to him. He was magnetic. Chris was a loner, shy. Not the brightest bulb, said he dad endlessly. But he was resourceful, could figure stuff out. He was a pretty decent mechanic without ever having any real training besides a semester in shop class. It was the one 'A' he ever got. His mother tried to shield him from his father, but she had her own demons and wasn’t always there for him. So he retreated. To his room, or the back of his friend's Impala, and now to a red Formica kitchen table sitting in his wet underwear with his hands folded in his lap. He looked at the refrigerator across from him. A magnet held up by a photo of Manetti and Ben, arms around each other’s shoulders, standing in knee-length bathing suits on a balcony that looked out at the sea. Chris wondered where they were? Manetti looked a few years younger, had shorter hair and wore a huge goofy smile. He looked a little stoned. Ben's deep tan set off his blue eyes; they almost glowed. He looked happier than he ever did growing up. It must have been breezy because his long ponytail flew like a kite behind him. Chris stared at it while his soup heated up. He idolized his brother. Worshiped him really. Many times after his father had given him a bad spanking, he’d sneak into Ben’s room, into his bed, and silently fall asleep on his chest refusing to shed a tear. He did cry, though, wept inconsolably really, when Ben said he couldn’t stand their house anymore and shouted he was moving to New York. Manetti tested the soup with a loud slurp. His mother demanded to know why New York. He'd met someone in a bar, Ben said, who'd offered him a job. What kind of job do you get offered in a bar? shouted his step father, but Ben was storming out the door raising a middle finger. “When’s the last time you saw him?" Manetti asked. "He’s changed some, you know,” he said. "He's not that Long Beach surfer you used to know." In the photo Chris saw Ben had added a bunch of tattoos. A big dragon crawled over his right shoulder, it's tail re-emerging over his ribs. He saw his brother wasn't that slim teenage surfer he once was either. He was a lot more bulked up, even handsomer if that was possible. "Ben moved out right when he turned eighteen. Hated my dad. Can't blame him. My dad was pretty much of a dickhead. He was okay to me except for my whoopings. He tackled him one time, tried beating the shit out of him, and Ben wailed on his so hard my mom called the police." Chris caught himself as Manetti eyed him. He didn't like to talk about his family’s problems—not to the school counselor, and never to strangers. He rarely did talk about them, didn't even really like to think about them especially. Manetti filled a soup bowl, grabbed a spoon from a drawer, and set it in front of him. "Yeah, I've seen him loose it. He's pretty awesome. You want a towel? You're still dripping," he said. Chris nodded and dug into the soup. Manetti popped out and then returned with a large terrycloth towel. The soup was full of large chunks of vegetables and warmed his stomach. He took the towel and mopped his head, then draped it over his shoulders. For the first time in as long as he could remember—weeks? months?—he was beginning to relax. He wasn't used to someone being nice to him. Especially someone he didn't know that well. After his dad left, his mom had turned into a basket case. And now, any day with Carl in the house was like walking through a minefield; made his dad seem like Gandhi. He must have been scowling into his soup because when he looked up, Manette said, "You Prior boys are so serious, aren't you?" Manetti flashed him a warm smile, which he shyly returned, then went back to shoveling spoonfuls of soup. "In your letter you said you haven't seen my brother in two weeks,” Chris said between bites, keeping his eyes in the soup bowl. “Ain't like him to just disappear. He’d split for a time but would always come back. Know where he’s at?" Manetti sat across from him, reached in the ashtray and took out a half-burnt joint. He lit it and took a long drag and looked up at the ceiling. He exhaled, thought for a moment before offering it to Chris. Chris put down his soup, pinched the joint, and took a short toke. He exhaled, said thanks, handed it back and went back to his soup. "Well,” said Manetti thoughtfully. “Chris Prior..." He paused, taking a long hit, taking an even longer time to reflect before exhaling. "...Ben Prior, or Big Ben, as he's called, disappears from time to time. So do I. I didn’t want to get into it in the letter, but truth is, sometimes, a client will want us for an extended period of time." Manetti took another hit. As he exhaled, he leaned in toward Chris. "Sometimes drugs are involved, so you know, we’re sometimes really out of it. Sometimes someone buys one of us for a time. Comes with the territory. We come back to each other. Eventually. But we’ve learned our partnership needs to be very open." Chris' spoon stopped in mid-air at some point while Manetti was talking. He looked him over. Long dark wavy hair, highlights of red in the harsh kitchen light, long side burns who's points hit his high cheek bones, a wide mouth with lips like seagulls wings, brown eyes that suddenly glinted with mischief. His robe had fallen open again revealing swirling black hair over pale white skin across an expansive chest. Chris' brain twitched. Something was off. He knew stoned, and he wasn't getting stoned. Manetti scratched his chest but his fingers lingered in his mat of chest hair. Chris saw him open his robe a bit more to brush his left nipple on his massive pec; he diddled with a thin metal bar that pierced his large tit. Chris placed the spoon in the bowl, took up the proffered joint, took a hit as casually as he could. With a clenched throat, hoping it sounded like he was being offhand, he asked, "So you're his boyfriend. You’re both hustlers?" He was confused, but not by the news that his brother turned tricks, but that Manetti’s nipple, so unusually large, looked so very appealing. He'd never seen a pierced nipple up close in real life. So much was flooding his senses at once it was hard for him to keep up with his thoughts. "Boy, this is strong shit," he said, handing back the joint. "Laced?" "Just a bit." Manetti's grin widened displaying a beautiful row of perfectly white teeth. Why hadn't Chris noticed just how good looking Manetti was before? He had looked at him through a filter as one of his brother’s friends. But whatever the joint was laced with was magnifying Manetti's magnetism. If Manetti was a hustler he must be a very good one, thought Chris. Manetti’ smile, as it grew, highlighted his strong jaw, became the smile of a shark. Chris was easily bait. "This soup is really good," he said, trying to snap out of his gaze. He finished up the last of it. "Uh, can I use your bathroom?" "Other side of the bedroom. Ready for some more soup?" Chris stood up, placing a hand on the back of the chair. For some reason he didn’t feel hungry anymore. “Nah, I’m good.” He glanced out the airshaft and again a slight paranoia gripped him as he looked into the inky darkness. In the apartment across from them something was moving. He was wobbly, but more than stoned, he was suddenly horny. He also saw he was starting to get a woody, one that was pretty evident wearing only thin underwear. Manetti noticed it too. Chris excused himself before it became even more obvious. Suddenly, he was confused by the apartment layout. Off the kitchen was the only other room, a bedroom. Off it, a small closet, and a smaller closet with a toilet and a dinky sink. In the bedroom a sling hung over a futon on the floor. He knew what it was even though it was the first sling he'd ever encountered. He'd seen them in Ben's magazines, the ones he left behind between his mattress. Rawhide, Stroke, Bound and Gagged, and Chris' favorite, Magnum. He saw the leg straps, the leather pillow, the wrist restraints, the mirror perched over the top. He felt himself woozy, and grabbed a leg strap to steady himself. Not the best choice, for it immediately flew away from him and with his other hand he had to grab the metal support. The whole sling set into motion a round of clanging as chains banged against metal posts. "You okay in there?" Manetti's voice called out from the kitchen. He peered around the kitchen door to see if the kid was still standing. "Yeah, I'm good," Chris answered stumbling to the bathroom. "I bet you are," Manetti responded with a laugh. "Ben said you were a choir boy. That really true?" "Really true." He shut the bathroom door, relieved that he had found a room, compact as it was, where he could compose himself. As soon as he shut the door, he struggled to get his act together. He mulled over the fact that there were only two rooms in the entire apartment—kitchen, bedroom. Where was he going to sleep? And, fuck, he couldn’t deny how horny he was for Manetti. He saw how the evening was leading in one direction, and he saw he couldn’t and didn’t want it to go any other way. Manetti would be gentle, he reassured himself. That first embrace in the hallway surely proved he would understand that, being his first time, his brother’s lover would be gentle, would let him take things at his own pace. But he was his brother's lover. But he was also a hustler. His brain was frazzled. Sitting down with his underwear around his ankles he looked up at the back of the bathroom door. Taped to it was a foldout from Magnum magazine. It was Ben and Manetti sixty-nining each other with their forearms up each other's ass. Cocks dripping, Crisco smearing, Ben and Manetti were frozen in a frenzy of fists. Chris popped a rock hard boner and dropped the biggest shit of his entire life. *** Manetti unhooked the leg straps from the end of the sling, folded it in half, then re-attached the straps to the arm hooks. That left the futon on the floor unencumbered from above. He popped in one of Drax's bareback twink videos in the VCR, grabbed the remote and laid back on the futon propping his head with an oversize pillow against the radiator. It was late but the Tina laced joint had him in a semi-energized mood. He was sure Chris must have felt similarly. The toilet flushed and Chris emerged. The boy, still clad only in his white underwear, shirtless, flawless, a thin little scarecrow, stood at the bathroom door. Blond hair, dry now but flying every which way. A perfect skinny beach boy, ten years Ben's baby brother. Their resemblance was minimal. Whereas he and Ben worked out regularly, having pecs, necks, and 'ceps to prove it, Chris, looking around the small studio confused, seemed frail. He was more than a little intimidated by all the pornography he was discovering on the walls, porn stars Manetti and Ben had either known or worked with over the years. Mostly signed. "To Manetti / Good times, bad times, baddest times! Rich" or "Big Ben / Your name does not lie, Eric." "Come. Sit," encouraged Manetti patting the space next to him. "How you feel? Like the joint?" "Yeah, man," said Chris, trying to sound cool. "That's powerful dope. It's dusted?" "Nah, a little Tina. You like?" Chris gave a single nod with a flicker in his eye that Manetti zeroed in on. He casually took a sip of water he’d brought from the kitchen. "Want to try it pure?" Chris sat next to him cross legged. "I guess so," he said. Manetti could smell him. A little grungy, a slight smell of urine probably from the wet, dirty underwear. Ben had told Manetti he thought his little brother was on-again and off-again homeless, at least not staying at his house much cuz of the mom's new boyfriend. Manetti grabbed a pipe from the window ledge, set his glass aside, and stuffed the pipe with a little white powder from a baggy. He handed the pipe to Chris. "Have you blown clouds before?" Manetti knew the answer before he asked it. Chris shook his head. Up close Chris was even more striking than across the table. It was his eyes, soulful lost puppy eyes. When you first looked at him he looked just like any skinny white kid, but sitting crossed legged next to him, you could really see how lost he was. His six pack abs wasn’t from working out but from not eating enough, his ribcage pronounced as he breathed. Hairless chest, tiny nipples, little or maybe no armpit hair. The kid didn't even look like he shaved yet. Whereas he was all hair. From his heavy five o'clock shadow that was dark even right after a morning shave, strong jaw with a cleft chin, his father’s rugged aquiline nose, shaggy, unkempt cluster of chestnut hair, and trade-famous pointed sideburns. "Just inhale it like you would hash and hold it." Chris did as he was told. The kid was nothing if not a fast learner. And obedient. The idea of introducing him to Drax crossed his mind. He brushed the thought away. The kid was much too cherry. Drax would eat him alive. Still, what was he going to do with him after tonight? He was definitely going to get in the way of his trade. As Chris was about to blow the smoke out, Manetti took the boy’s mouth and covered it with his own. He breathed in the smoke from Chris' lungs, held it for a beat before exhaling. "No need to waste it. You take it from me this time." Manetti lit the bottom of the pipe, waited for the white cloud to form, then sucked it in. Out of the corner of his eye he could tell Chris was grappling with how Manetti had grabbed his chin and brought their lips together. Chris watched him, biting his lip with anticipation, moving closer to Manetti’s mouth. It was almost like kissing, something he'd never done with man. Manetti motioned with his finger and Chris moved in. Manetti exhaled into him, breathed a new kind of life into him. As he held it, Manetti leaned back against the pillow. "So, what's your plan, Chief?" Chris followed suit and leaned back into the large pillow he shared with Manetti. After he'd exhaled, Manetti took a long sip of water. He offered the glass to Chris. "Don't really have one. Thanks." Chris took a sip and handed the glass back to Manetti. "Not a really good plan, Chief—not to have a plan. Ben thought you were queer. He right?" Manetti was fixed on the TV, watching a blond dude about Chris' age but not as skinny getting sucked by a balding, stocky daddy type. "I used to beat off to Ben's porn. So I guess, yeah. Twice, when I stayed over at my best friend Jeff's place, before his parents didn’t want me coming around anymore, we jacked off to some straight shit.” Chris looked around again at all the porn posters and photos hanging on the walls. “I think I recognize that guy in that poster there from one of them," he said pointing to a huge 'roided porn star with an extra-long dick, one with perfect hyper-masculine features perched on the hood a Rolls Royce. It was signed "To Manetti, thanks for the ride, TJ. "Mr. No Balls? Hah! Tyler says he's straight, only does gay for pay. Don't believe him. You can shit in his mouth and he'd pay you for it." Chris barked out a surprised laugh. “No, seriously he loves twinks. I bet if I call him right now, he’d come over and ask you shit in his mouth.” Manetti made a motion like he was going to get up and call, but Chris, laughing, held him back. Chris’ hand on Manetti’ shoulder, feeling it's mass, registered quickly on both of them. Chris quickly put his hands back in his lap. Manetti added a little more white power to the pipe. "’Nother hit, Chief?" Chris nodded. His heart was already pounding and he felt flush all over. He was also pulling on his pud unconsciously, getting a little wet spot on the tip, staining his already stained underwear. Manetti took note, seeing the kid was totally unaware of what he was doing. He calmly fired up the pipe and slowly leaned into Chris. He blew into his lungs lightly adding just the tip of his tongue, and deliberately scraping the boy’s face lightly with his cheek. Chris's eyes widened. He'd never felt a beard against his face like that. "So that's it. A couple wanks with Jeff, you on one end of the couch, your best bud on the other, eyes glued straight to the TV. Aware of him but never dared to looking. Am I right or am I right?" "Yeah, something like that.” Chris’ mind spun. His next words flew out of him as if he was compelled to confess to Manetti. “Except one time this real nerd, Kyle—I never told nobody this—he helped me with some math homework. His parents both worked so we were alone at his house. Everyone knew he was a fairy. Ran like a girl. We were in his bedroom. He put his hand on my pants, which usually kind of hangs cuz I don’t hitch ‘em up, and he pulled them right off me and gives me a blow job. Like, I didn’t even stop him even though he was sucking my dick. I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” But it felt good being open with Manetti. He felt a mild release and a kind of excitement in the act. "Did you give Kyle a blow job back?" Chris scoffed at the thought. Then after a beat, added, “Actually, I thought about it. Sometimes late at night, jacking off under the covers, I remembered how much I liked it. How soft his mouth was. How it felt to cum into it, into this big wet thing. Like how I didn't have to hold back at all. Like how maybe I’d like to give Jeff a blow job. Give him the same feeling. Like he wouldn’t have to hold back and just come in my mouth and I’d swallow it. Okay, shut up. Stop talking now,” he said, talking to himself in a voice that could have been his father's. Manetti laughed, but made a quick U-turn and became serious. "Well, what wasn't nice, Chief, is that you should always reciprocate. Know what I mean? I mean if I gave you a blow job, I'd expect you'd give me one back. That’s only fair, right? And if I rimmed your ass, I expect you'd return the favor." "What’s rimming?" asked Chris. Manetti looked at him sideways, saw he was honestly confused. This kid was too innocent to be believed! “You must have seen it in one of Ben’s magazines.” Chris shook his head. Manetti found the remote control and sped the video up. "There. See what that kid’s doing?" Manetti pointed at the screen where the blond kid was under the older daddy’s hairy ass. "He’s eat out man's pussy." "The fuck out!" said Chris but didn't take his eyes from the screen. Manetti saw the kid's boner tenting up in his shorts. "That's fucking nasty, man. Gross! Why would someone do that?" Yet the boy’s eyes couldn’t be pried from the screen with a crowbar. He was pulling again at his underwear. "It's like getting a blow job but a hundred times better.” He motioned to Chris’ hardon. "Looks as if you like the nasty." Chris stopped pulling at his dick alarmed. “Wait. I’ll fast forward. You're gonna love this." The VHS tape sped up, then skidded to a stop. The boy was now under a rim seat with the daddy sitting on top. A close-up showed the boy lifting his head, licking the daddy’s balls then sticking his tongue deep into the daddy’s hairy ass. "I bet you’d be good under there." Chris felt his whole skin glisten in a light sweat. His nerves felt electric. Manetti flicked off the room lamp. The room basked in the dark glow of the TV. Chris felt an imaginary blanket was enveloping him and Manetti, separating them from the world. With the light off, he had an urgent need to take off his underwear and bare himself to Manetti. Manetti sensed it and reached out and slipped off Chris' underwear. The kid had a nice seven inch rod, rigid and beaded with pre-cum. Very little pubic hair. Looked like he clipped it, too. His legs were hairless, thin and smooth. Such smooth pale skin got him excited and he casually opened his robe revealing his long, uncut cock angling above his firm, hairy belly. Chris looked at him achingly. He took the boy's hand and placed it on his manmeat. Chris caressed it lightly at first, the first time he'd ever touched a man’s penis. Manetti felt him quickly go from a light touch to a firm grip. He pumped a little in the boy's hand. The hand barely wrapped around his shaft. But what he did hold was like being in the grip of a cobra. His other hand aimed for Manetti’s chest. His finger ran through his chest hair making a bee-line for his pierced nipple. When he make contact Manetti could wait no longer. He pounced, gripping Chris’ legs and spinning him around, pulling his legs into the air to expose his butthole. He dove down to engulf his sphincter and the kid let out a moan of pure pleasure, his neck arched looking up to his face. "Oh, fuck, dude," Chris cried. "Oh, shit that feels good. Jesus. Christ! Oh shit." It coaxed Manetti to pull the boy's pursed asslips apart even more and deep dived his tongue into this virgin hole. “Push out,” ordered Manetti. "More!" The boy hadn't wiped well and there was an acrid taste of shit around the kid's stained hole. It horned Manetti even more, driving his tongue deeper into this nasty, puckering pit. “Push fucker!” Every nerve ending in Chris' bunghole bristled in pleasure as he pushed out his hole. Manetti's long tongue dug into the hole, which fought instinctively against entry. Manetti’s mouth was relentless, chewing, licking, sucking on the boy's ass lips. Chris tried fighting against the tongue from entering, but bit by bit he felt the pleasures of giving up his hole, physically and mentally, to push out and let this man he’d met only a few hours before enter him in his most vulnerable spot. Manetti beard scratched his tender skin, but it felt incredible, loosened him more and more. He heard the man spit, his hole dripping wet, and felt a finger entering him. This was the first time he'd ever been penetrated, and though it was uncomfortable and hurt, at the same time it excited him. He felt conflicted, fooling around with his brother's boyfriend, afraid of where this might lead. But he knew where he wanted it to lead. Manetti held his legs firmly, looked down into his open face. Chris was afraid and yet attracted at the same time. Manetti was all hair, chest, shoulders, a black jungle around his cock, even a bit of hair on his back that he felt with his legs. Manetti held his legs over his shoulders to dig into that smooth, tasty boyhole. From that vulnerable position, Manetti sucked in a testicle, then the other, which made the kid cry out in pleasure and surprise. He then returned to that beautiful virginal, pliable, slowly opening tunnel. The sensation of having his hole eaten was driving him wild. Hoarsely, he spat out, "Mike, I want to return the favor." Manetti looked down into the boy's face, became curious, wondering if the kid would do it or would cop out at the last minute. He released him and the kid scurried through Manetti’s legs, putting himself beneath the man's furry butt like he'd seen the twink do on TV. Manetti squatted over his face as he felt the boy’s lips surrounding his crack. The kid pulled on Manetti's legs to get him to squat lower. "Oh, fuck yeah. You're as big of a pig as your brother. Eat my shithole, boy. Dig in, get lost in it.” Manetti ground his ass over the boy’s face. “Rank, right? Be a little toilet pig. You felt what I did, how deep I got. Return that favor. Be a sewer. Be a cell pool. Just give in to it. Get lost in there." And Chris did. His cock remained an iron pole, Manetti noted, while his tongue didn’t stop for a moment cleaning his dirty shithole. Chris had never felt as uninhibited as this. Manetti’s whole butt was one massive trench of black hair. The crack seemed to go on forever. He licked and licked, searching to find the center. Manetti’s musky odor drove his brain into delirium. He was a boy on a mission and would not give up until he made Manetti’s hole feel as good as Manetti had made his. Minutes went by till he arrived, finding the smooth oasis of flesh through the dark brush. It pulsed with heat on his tongue, and gave off the pure scent of a man. He couldn't believe how wonderfully soft the skin felt across his tongue nor the nasty taste that reeked from his hole. Instead of being repulsed by the stench, he was in a frenzy to please Manetti but he also found he really liked it. He did what Manetti had done and lapped and circled the hole, until he found he could dart his tongue inside, which produced an animal snarl from Manetti. "Rrrrrr, fuck yes, piglet. Get in there you little fuck pig." Then something happened Chris didn't quite understand, but knew in his gut he liked right away. The hole he was chewing on opened up slightly and a vast area of Manetti's rectum pushed out with it. His mouth was confronted with his first rosebud, although at the time he didn't know what it was. Right after this mound of gelatinous flesh revealed itself to him, like some startled sea creature, it pulled back into its hole. Manetti went wild. Chris felt his legs being pulled in the air again, separated, a tongue slithered into his entrance. An infinite amount of pleasure, giving and receiving, before there was a brief pause, then a heavy hand cracked against his butt. "Say, Thank you, Sir." "Thank you, Sir," repeated Chris, his ass stinging, feeling a sense of shame and pleasure and pride all at the same time. "You taste so fucking good, I want to eat you up, pig boy," growled Manetti. "Let's get you in the sling. I have to bang this pretty pussy." They sprang up and he quickly showed Chris how to connect the legs chains back to the hooks. Chris rubbed his butt and felt the heat from the slap Manetti had given him. "Climb in, boy, and I'll give you the ride of your life." As Chris was figuring out how to get in, Manetti said, "You liked blowing clouds?" Chris nodded. "Then you're going to love this." He quickly poured some powder in a shot glass, mixed a little water in it and sucked it up in a plunger. "Okay, settle in. Put your legs through here.” Manetti paused, then ran a hand up and down Chris' torso, ending by fondling his cock and balls. “You happy you met me?” Chris nodded. "And you've never been fucked before?" Chris shook his head fiercely, anticipating what was to come. “Comfy?" Chris nodded again eagerly, starting to slowly hump Manetti's paw. "Not so fast, boy. I want you to learn to feel it not just in your dick but also inside your hole.” Manetti pulled Chris' dick away from his body to the boy cried, then let it slap against his belly. “You gonna do whatever Sir says, yes slave?" Manetti squeezed a little lube on Chris' hole. He wet a finger in his mouth and pushed it up Chris' ass a good inch or two. It was uncomfortable for a second while Manetti twisted his finger lubing all side of Chris’ tight cave, but Manetti kept wiggling it around and Chris not only got used to the sensation, but found himself writhing a bit on Manetti finger, trying to get him to penetrate him further. "Okay, this'll be a little cold and might sting, but just for a minute." Manetti replaced his finger with the plunger, stuck it up Chris's canal as far as it would go, and then shot the liquid into the boy's empty hole. Shit yes, it was cold and stung like a bitch. Chris bore down as Manetti finished injecting his ass with the cold liquid, then pulled the plunger out of him. At first he felt nothing but coldness warming up inside him. He felt a bit let down anticipating something intense. Manetti looked him over, stroked his erect dick and tweak his small nipples. “Feel anything?” Chris shook his head. Manetti went over to the VHS recorder and switched tapes. While it was revving up, Manetti put on a leather cap and vest over his otherwise naked body. Chris was truly impressed, if not a little intimidated, by the severe transformation a few bits of costume made to Manetti. It also altered Manetti's attitude. Manetti looked straight out of one of his brother’s leather magazines. It brought out a sense of privilege and arrogance even. Manetti went to the bookshelf and opened a box and pulled out an orange capped rig. He strapped his arm with a tourniquet, feeling for a vein against the dim TV light. He slammed himself and started breathing heavily. His mouth shaped into an round 'O' and his eyes widened in sudden astonishment. Something was happening in Chriss too, something like a serpant eminating from his hole. He felt a strong surge of desire. "You look so fucking great, Sir. Like a god." Chris could not see Manetti’s eyes, only dark pockets where his eyes should be. Chris couldn’t help himself and started pleasuring the feeling his ass. Words flew out of him. "Or like the devil," he whispered like at confession. Something heating up inside his hole made him feel intensely desirous of Manetti. Wanting him like he never wanted anything before. Manetti cough. "FUCK!" Manetti shouted widening his eyes. "Christ fuck!" He could barely stand, and leaned heavily on the bookcase. "Hot damn, boy. How you feeling?” He was breathless, trying to put the orange cap back on the rig. “You feel it yet?" Manetti looked to him out of focus, but a feeling of euphoria was sweeping through Chris' body, making himself pull on his cock at the same time he fingered his butthole. He felt electric, energized, wanted Manetti to touch him all over, maybe even smack him again. "I feel great, Sir,” he said. As Manetti staggered from the bookcase and came closer, he sat up in the sling and ran his hands across Manetti’s hairy chest. "I wanted to do that the second I came in the door, Sir. Fuck, you are so hot. My ass is yours. Whatever you want to do to it. Beat me if you want to." "Beat my ass—SIR!" returned Manetti, now holding on to the chains while he was rushing, where Chris' butt lay exposed, so desirous of being fucked for the very first time. "Yes, SIR, beat my ass again—SIR." And Manetti did, harder than the first time. "Thank you, SIR," replied Chris, falling back against the leather pillow, pushing his ass out of the sling. A light turned on in the room across the airshaft. Chris didn't notice, but Manetti did. "You're welcome, boy. Let's get you settled in." With that Manetti quickly locked his leg restraints, still breathing heavily, punctuating fucks under his breath as he worked. Before Chris knew it, Manetti had restrained his arms above his head. He gladly went along with whatever Manetti wanted to do. As long as it didn't involve needles. That was the only thing that freaked him a little but he tried not to think about it. If it wasn't for the feeling of horniness overcoming every molecule in his body he might have been spooked by the restraints. But now he was accepting everything that this hairy demon breathing over him was doing. It was easy to inhale Manetti’s pheromones, which blotted out the picture of him hunched over, shooting up. Or maybe he secretly liked that. He didn’t know what he thought anymore. He arched his head toward Manetti’s cock. It was veiny, half sheathed in foreskin. Leaking pre-cum. He licked it. A taste of salt and cheese. Nothing had ever tasted so delicious and desirable to him. He still had a trace of Manetti’s dirty ass on his lips and it mixed with salt and cheese from his foreskin. Manetti turned on a light over the sling and flipped on a video camera propped next to the bookcase. Manetti slowly turned the boy’s peach fuzz face to the side, checked that the view finder was in close, recording each translucent strand of blond hair on the boy's upper lip, and slid his veiny cock into the boy's mouth. He swallowed have his fat nob. Manetti was impressed at how much Chris could take. He pushed him further, getting half his shaft into the boy's mouth, feeling where the boy’s throat constricted, made him choked on his shaft, then skullfucked him at that length for a while as his cock grew from semi-flaccid to fully engorged. Manetti withdrew his cock from his mouth, and a web of pre-cum hung like a spider web between them. He let his uncut cock trace over Chris’ pursed mouth. "Ah Chris," he said looking into his eyes. "I'm going to fucking love knocking you up." Chris felt the words echo in his head, puzzled at first by their meaning. On the TV screen a body was being pummeled by a Master with a whip, with a boy writhing in pain and ecstatically twisting under the lash. He looked back at Manetti. Beyond the harsh light shining on him, in the dim light of the room, he saw covered by the beautiful black fur surrounding Manetti's navel, the three prongs of a biohazard tattoo. Manetti placed a red ball in his mouth and tied it behind his head. Chris realized too late what the ball was for, and started fighting against his bindings. Manetti pushed in between his legs. The kid tried to close his legs but the sling and Manetti easily pried him open. He was exposed and vulnerable. Manetti greased his cock and lubed the boy's tight hole. With his first thrust his aim was true. He slid the entire length of the kid's clutching rectum, straight up to his thick black patch of pubic hairs. The girth of his shaft ripped the boy's hole apart. Manetti's hairy balls smacked into the boy's tailbone. He didn't stop till he was right up the boy's chute, fully inside. The boy cried in anguish behind the red ball, tears in his eyes, panic running across his face. Fiercely he was beathing, spitting saliva through the ball in heaving gulps of air. Spit ran down his chin and cheek. He fought as much as he could against the thickness of Manetti’s enormous shaft, against his cuffed arms and legs, but the struggle only engorged Manetti’s immense tool more. "Fight against it, bitch. I love it." Manetti picked up his pace. The pain was unbearable but he was helpless to stop it, and with every stroke he felt his resistance falling away. The longer it went on, and against his will, he started deriving a small bit of pleasure from the pain. Chris slowly began to unclench against Manetti’s girth. For a while, at the pinnacle of each thrust, Manetti would hold his crotch against Chris' hole, letting the boy experience the magnitude of the amount of raw flesh that filled his hole. Chris felt all the hairs of Manetti's pubis surround his hole. Manetti gyrated inside him. He felt the stiff cock push his insides around, moving everything inside, his bladder, his prostate, a gateway to an inner chamber. The sensations started owning him. Making him feel things he didn't know he could feel, sensations that were newly possible. Manetti felt Chris’ hole beginning to open. He looked into the bound boy’s blue eyes and saw a dawning pleasure deep within him. He wasn’t sure the boy even knew he was beginning to draw pleasure from his pain, but he would know and eventually desire it in ever increasing amounts. He new his journey and he would have the boy follow in his tracks. Tears were being overcome with lust as the chemicals were taking over Chris' body. The boy stopped struggling and for a moment became placid. He grew annoyed with the passivity so with both hands, as hard as he could, he smacked with all his force Chris' ass. It made Chris yelp and clench his sphincter which pleased Manetti. He looked down on the boy and was surprised to see a spark of gratitude in Chris' eyes. Just a spark. He needed to work him harder. They fell into a rhythm. For minutes that turned to hours Chris got used to the battering his hole was taking. When he went slack, Manetti slapped him to tighten him up, or twisted his small nipples until he tried to cry out in pain behind the gag. At the beginning, Chris fought the massive rod slamming into him and the occasional whipping his ass endured. But after non-stop fucking, accepting the alternating pleasure and pain, he came to desire the torpedo that was tearing him inside. The familiar walloping he received growing up, he secretly desired from Manetti. In the mirror he watched and felt his butt turn from pink, to red, to purple. At some point he got lost in it, started thrusting himself to get impaled deeper, to be slapped hard, to be punished for sins he couldn’t name. Manetti felt Chris' entire canal loosening. The ass smacking was now built into their fucking. Chris, in fact, in a haze, began thanking him behind the red ball. Whether or not Manetti heard him was questionable, for Manetti's eyes rolled back in his head and he mindlessly fucked and abused what at times became an anonymous body splayed beneath him. Manetti occasionally snapped out of his daze and saw how much he was controlling this innocent young kid, this younger version of his partner, his boyfriend, his lover—imagined he was fucking an innocent version of Ben, one from long ago—then he would lose himself again to the sheer, dark pleasure he derived from his raw cock having its way in a stranger's body. He felt himself edging closer to a climax as his mind vacillated between thoughts of Ben and this new fresh piece of nameless meat. As he felt he was close to cumming, he broke through to awareness of Chris beneath him. He saw Chris' sweat dick never lost its erection no matter what he did to him. He started playing with the boy's meat, milking him, lightly slapping his face so that he came out of his drugged revelry. "I'm about to cum, Chris,” he said as the boy focused on his mouth and words, “but I’m not going to cum in you unless you cum first, got that? That shows you want me to give you my poz cum. Shows me you want to be my fuckhole no matter what. Lets me own you." Through blurred eyes Chris lobbed his head no, but almost immediately started squirming his cock in Manetti clenched fist. "I can't tell if you're trying to get away from me, fuckhole, or you're jacking yourself in my hand. I think you're jacking, you little cum pig." He broke into a dark smile. "Feel how hard you are?" Chris kept bucking, thrashing, squirming away in a sea of ecstasy and lust, both wanting this man to cum and fearing it with all his fiber, but he couldn't hold back, jacking into his fist and slamming back onto his cock, a see-saw that wouldn't end until he pushed himself over the edge. He let loose the longest stream of cum he'd ever shot. Ribbons of sperm spewed over the room. The boy’s hole clenched and spasmed as he shot, immediately triggered Manetti who gushed in rivers of ropey sperm up the boy's open chute. They both quaked in orgasms, each building on the other’s spuming bodies, until they were thrashing uncontrollably against each other, grinding bone against bone, skin against raw skin, till there was a thrust of Manetti that hung in the air, then one more, then a final lunge plunging Manetti deep inside Chris. He held it there, on the edge, feeling himself unload an afterbirth of cum. Manetti stood dripping heavy sweat onto Chris' glistening chest. He rubbed Chris' cum all over his chest and face. He sucked the boy's small nipples, licked up and down the boy's arms, licked his pits, still hard and draining inside him. “You still with me?” he whispered, as he loosened the ball in Chris’ mouth. “That was fucking fantastic.” The boy’s eyes, drugged as they were, did not lie. Manetti kissed him deep, then lay on top of him feeling his heart beating against his. He rested there for a moment feeling the slickness between them, the kid’s sperm matting his chest and abs and pubes. He licked up a river of the boy’s cum welled in his sternum, and was surprised to see Chris open his mouth for him. The boy had the makings of a true pig, he thought, as he released the drool into the greedy boy's maw. He watched the lust still simmering within the boy as he swallowed. Maybe he was Drax material after all. ***

One of my favorites... My mother always said my heart was too big for my own good. She didn’t understand why I did so much volunteer work. I didn’t understand how other people didn't. While young women always want to work with kids, young men, I've found, have fewer volunteering opportunities, so when I found I enjoyed sharing time with the elderly, I stuck with it. When they didn’t get visitors often, I would come and spent a day with them. I always did stuff like that. When I read the advertisement from Mr. Johnson, a 62 year old who had AIDS and was looking for a gay friendly buddy, I didn’t think twice - I applied. Mr. Johnson was a real silver daddy with a friendly smile. “You don’t mind that I’m gay?” he asked me when we met. “ "No, of course not," I replied, "I’m also gay." Smiling, Mr. Johnson replied “Then it’s not awkward when I say you’re a handsome fellow.” We both laughed. There was a real click between us. Perhaps because we were both gay and knew the lifestyle and the prejudice... and the sex. Mr. Johnson said he was an avid barebacker back in the day, which was, of course, the reason he contracted HIV. He admitted that he didn’t stop having raw sex after he was tested positive. “Some men just don’t care” he explained, “they just want to enjoy. They want to feel the meat and not the rubber.” Then he asked if I had ever done it without a condom. “Yeah I have,” I admitted, “when I was a teenager and fooled around with boys of my own age I knew were disease free I didn’t bother, but when I grew older and met older guys I did start using condoms." I also had a steady boyfriend for a while who fucked me raw, but I never visited the sleazy places Mr. Johnson had frequented. He told me all about the crazy sex parties he attended, that he had tried watersports, fisting, s&m, several types of drugs. How he was a frequent visitor of baths and adult theaters. He didn’t have any regrets about his sex life, although he was sad it wasn’t as active as it used to be. Without shame he said how he bought gay porno mags and had several adult dvds, and on one occasion he asked “Want to see them?”, as if it was the most normal thing to show. I declined, not out of disinterest, but because it would be a little bit too awkward. Mr Johnson was a charming man and we hung out quite a lot. Instead of being just a buddy for him we were becoming real friends. Sometimes I did have the feeling Mr. Johnson was flirting with me. Whenever I went over i would fing gay magazines or dvds on the table or couch. He didn't even bother to hide them from me. Whenever we sat behind a computer I could see the tabs of pornsites like silverdaddies and barebackrt. The worst part was that it didn't bother me. I started to like this little game he was playing, mostly because I never met someone who was courting me like that. Never the less, I was quite aware Mr Johnson was growing increasingly bold in his attempts to woo me. I noticed his bulge more frequently in the shorts he wore, but especially when he wore sweatpants. The thin fabric showed clearly the outline of his cock and he probably didn't wear any underwear underneath them. I even suspected that he was deliberately trying to get a hard on before he opened the door to greet me. This was actually really inappropriate behavior, but it was effective. I always looked at his bulge and he knew it. Every now and then he reached for his crotch, to adjust the dick in his pants or give it another stroke to keep it hard. The scary thing was that I could't stop thinking about what he would come up with next. I imagined that one day I would come in his house, to find him masturbating in front of the TV or computer. Or how he wanted to go for a swim and decided to hop in the same changing room, because the others were already occupied. My cock would get hard thinking about how Mr. Johnson would seduce me and finally would show his cock. I wasn't even wondering if he would do it, I was already in the phase where I wanted him to show me. The night that changed everything started with supper at Mr. Johnson's place. After we were done he proposed to sit on the couch to watch some TV. So far he had behaved himself, but when I sat down the show began. "You know, I'm pretty sweaty, do you mind if I would take a shower?" he asked. I didn't mind at all and wondered what his plan was. Would he ask me to take a shower too? Would he ask me to join him? However Mr. Johnson never asked me to go upstairs with him. Instead, while he showered I watched TV. I noticed a gay dvd cover on the coffee table. A big blurb on the cover said 100% BAREBACK. I opened it and there wasn't a disc in it. My guess was that Mr Johnson was watching it or had watched it recently. When Mr Johnson came downstairs he was only wearing a bathrobe. "Do you mind if I wear these? I didn't want to dress again and it's a bit cooler" he reasoned. I didn't mind. I was waiting until his robe would 'accidently' fall open so I would be confronted by his cock. When Mr Johnson sat next to me my heart pounded in my chest. "What are you watching?" he asked. "Oh nothing, I was looking at something else and chanced to notice this dvd cover." "Ah you saw the cover. Yeah I was watching it, didn't finish it because... well, you know" he smiled. Yeah I knew what he meant, he was jerking off when watching and after he came he stopped the film. "It's all I can do these days" he said, "I mean I would rather do the real thing, but in my condition it's not so easy to find a partner." He was none to subtle: Mr. Johnson was reminding me (i) he had a condition, (ii) in fact he had AIDS, (iii) most people would find it difficult to simply be a friend to him, let alone having sex with him. Of course I felt some sympathy with his experience as an outcast. It seemed to me such a sweet man should be able to have sex like normal people do. "How's your love life?" he asked suddenly asked bluntly. "Well, to be honest I don't really have a love life" I admitted, "I spend most of my time on school and in the weekends I'm usually here." "And I appreciate that," Mr Johnson said, "I really do." When he said that he leaned over and gave me a warm kiss. He was a great kisser and unlike every other guys I've kissed he gave me lots of tongue and ample spit. Now, I am a 'closed-eyes-kisser', so I hadn't noticed that, while we were kissing, he had opened his bathrobe, but I understood as much when he guided my hand to his throbbing cock. When I felt the warm shaft I opened my eyes and finally saw the cock about which I had been fantasizing. Mr Johnson's dick was large and uncut and on the base of his cock was a big metal cock ring. His foreskin almost covered the head completely and was so tight you could see exactly the outline of his bulbous knob end. It made his dick look even more enormous. I began stroking his cock while still being French kissed. Mr Johnson reached under my shirt and started pinching my nipples. He wasn't really gentle about it and my nipples were soon sore. "Suck me" he whispered in my ear, "I want you to suck me." Silently, I bent over towards his dick. It was already leaking precum which I lapped up first, ignoring how noxious the contents was. I did my best to pull his foreskin back, to expose more of his purple knob. Taking his cock into my lips, I blew Mr. Johnson. While bobbing up and down I was thinking how nice it was of me to service his cock, to do this great sexual favor of an old man. I assumed it was a while since his last blowjob so I wanted to give him a good one. "Take of your clothes honey, let me eat your pussy," Mr. Johnson asked. Soon I was seated on the couch, my legs spread wide, while Mr Johnson was crouching between them to slobber all over my ass. His oral treatment of my rectum was a new experience for me. His tongue flicked between my crack and in my ass, making it slippery. Mr Johnson then replaced his soft tongue for one of his rugged fingers. It didn't feel nice at all, even a bit painful. Taking his hand in mine, I removed his finger from my ass and nodded at the silver daddy to make clear I didn't like it. "Just opening you up sweety" he explained, "but if you don't want it...." He didn't finish the sentence but placed his fucker against my pucker and pushed. "Mr Johnson!" I gasped, "we should't do this!" "Yes we do, yes we do. I want to fuck you, please let me fuck you," pleaded Mr Johnson. I wasn't complaining about getting shafted, but I didn't want to do it raw with someone who had AIDS! "You should use a condom" I warned, but Mr Johnson had his reply ready: "I haven't fucked in ages, I don't have condoms honey. This might be my last fuck, and I don't want it spoiled by rubbers. Please let me feel your warm hole, enjoy a hole the natural way, the way it's supposed to be enjoyed. You want to support me don't you?" All kinds of thoughts were racing trough my mind. Would I deny this man's last sexual request? Would denying him this pleasure mean I was a bad buddy? What would be the risk of contracting HIV with a one time raw buggering? Mr Johnson saw me think and he used the time to keep dicking me. His huge knob was teasing my sphincter, making it open a bit more every time it slid past. The wonderful feeling of his tool invading my bowels distracted me from thinking clear. Even tough it were only a few seconds since Mr Johnson gave his plea, it felt like minutes, it felt like I didn't have to answer anymore, my silence was consent. The cold metal of his cock ring touched my butt. "Thank you, son," Mr Johnson said, not expecting an answer anymore, "I appreciate this and I'm going to make it good for you too." He leaned towards my face again and kissed me, this time not with lust but with passion. I wrapped my arms around him and whispered "Fuck me, give me your last load." Mr Johnson gloated and started to pick up the pace. He had finally received permission to once again bareback a young hole. Mr Johnson was grunting as he was plowing my ass, holding my legs by the ankles to keep them apart. So many things were new for me this night: the kissing, the rimming, the age of my lover was almost three times as much as my normal sex partners, the position, the location (before this I only had sex in my bedroom). Suddenly Mr Johnson withdrew his fuck meat, leaving my hole gasping to be filled again. "Turn around" was the command and I obliged. With my ass in the air facing him, Mr Johnson spat a bit above my gaping rectum and used two fingers to rub it over my poop chute. He crammed his saliva coated fingers in my tender ass, I groaned. Like the first time he stuck a digit in me it hurt. I once again had to grasp his hand to push it away. My ass didn't feel as lubricated as after the intense rim job he gave me earlier and when I got penetrated again it just didn't feel as nice. "We need more lube" I said and the old man pulled some lube from the pocket of his robe. Guess he was better prepared than I thought. He squirted a copious amount of lubrication between my crack, which felt very cold but when his shaft forced it's way trough my rosebud my bowels were burning. My elderly fucker was really slamming my ass now, giving everything he got. I was really enjoying it even more when it got verbal. "I love fucking your ass son, I never thought I would that's why it's so special. You like me pounding you ass?" "Uh hu", I grunted. "You've been eyeing my bulge for so long now. I swear I sometimes saw you drool when you saw it. This is what you always wanted eh, my dirty shitstabber in your shitsocket. I'm going to cum soon, I'm going to give you some aidsbabies." "Don't say that" I snapped, "don't say those things" My mind already was screaming 'THIS MAN HAS AIDS! STOP NOW!' I didn't need him reminding me, almost humiliating me with the fact I let this sick man fuck me raw. "Cum on my back, I don't want you to cum inside me." "Too late honey, I'm cumming, I'm cumming." With one last thrust Mr. Johnson unloaded his lethal spooge in my healthy ass. He was panting after he bred me "That was great honey" he said while kissing my back, "Did you enjoy it too?" "Yeah I guess" I replied. "You don't know for sure?" Mr Johnson asked. I really didn't. While the fuck itself was wonderful, the toxic breeding he gave me wasn't. He finally withdrew from my ass and replaced it with something else. "What are you doing?" I asked. "I'm plugging your hole honey." was the answer I got, like it was the most normal thing to do. "With what?" "It's just a buttplug." "But why?" Up until that point I had never used a buttplug before, "please get it out." The old bastard must have planned this from the beginning, no way he just happened to have a buttplug in one of his pockets. "I want to use my cum for lube for our next fuck." "What are you talking about?" The old man replied "It's already late, I thought you could spent the night and have a quick fuck before we slept. I want to make it good for you too and since you wasn't satisfied by this one. Maybe the bedroom is a better place for making love." I'm not sure how he convinced me but I did spent the night with him. We did fuck before we slept and again he bred me. He wanted me to wear his butt plug for the entire night, but I objected. The next morning I wanted to leave early but Mr Johnson acted like a lovesick puppy, wanting to shower with me (which he did and at which time he ass fucked me again), wanting me to have breakfast with him (which I did while I had to sit on his cock), wanting me to stay with him for another day, having sex all the time. I was a bit taken back with his sudden change in attitude. I can't deny I really liked hanging out with him and maybe have some sort of feelings for him (otherwise I would've never let him fuck me), but I wasn't in love. Mr Johnson on the other hand really seemed to have butterflies in his stomach. I didn't know how to say to him I didn't have the same feelings for him, so I wanted to leave as soon as possible. Besides my ass was really sore of all the butt sex I received in the past hours. Around noon I finally went home, leaving Mr Johnson behind with the idea we were real lovers. I didn't have contact with Mr Johnson for some time. The sex had changed our relationship. For me it was just a one-off (well actually four-off) thing, but I didn't know if Mr Johnson thought the same. It surprised me that he didn't bother to contact me as well, especially considering his clingy behaviour the last time I saw him. When my ass developed a rash I went to a clinic. Of course they asked me if I had unsafe sex recently and with a tremble in my voice I said yes. The doctor advised me to take an HIV test. I called Mr Johnson to tell him about my visit to the clinic. He asked me if I blamed him. I said I didn't and that it was a conscious decision to sleep with him (even though I did ask him not to cum inside me). He never said he was sorry for my situation and after the phone call we never met again. Every time I asked if he wanted to meet he was busy or not feeling well. The man who once was looking for a buddy and who loved my companion didn't need me anymore. Being optimistic I thought he did feel guilty about my situation and didn't want to confront me. A few months later I got the terrible news I was positive. I was advised to notify my last sex partner. "My last sex partner had AIDS when we got together," I replied softly. The doctor was surprised to hear I slept with a man with AIDS, and, clearly confronted with an unusual situation, asked "Did you know he had AIDS, and if so, why did you engage in unprotected sex? There's no obligation to answer, of course, but I'd be interested to know if you've participated in some sort of underground sex group." The doctor also mentioned he met several other boys in the past few months who all contracted HIV from sleeping with a man with AIDS and wondered if it was connected. I explained I wasn't part of a group or a chaser and that the man who gifted me was a nice man. "Nice men don't give other men HIV" the doctor replied stoically. When I left the clinic I wondered if Mr Johnson had set me up, if he played some twisted game to give me this horrible disease. I got the answer a few days later when I stumbled upon an ad: "Elderly man with AIDS is looking for gay friendly buddy."

CHAPTER 1 My brother-in-law (Devon) is a dick plain and simple. I despise him for how he treats my sister; well, for that matter, how he treats everyone. His haughtiness is unbelievable. His sneering remarks are abundant to excess. But, he is whom my sister chose to marry. So bet it. Had he been my choice no doubt he would need dentures to eat; but, he isn’t and wasn’t my choice. One topic I will say in his favour: He was a stud of a man—a man’s man. Devon was packed in his clothes and wore them well. He stood 6 feet tall; weighed 160 pounds; worked out at a health club; had dark brown hair all over his arms, hands, legs, feet, and chest; had dark brown eyes; had a manly mound of a butt; and had an impressive bulge down his left thigh. His feet were big as were his hands. He had a super nice overall package, but a personality that ruined it all. When they announced my sister was pregnant, everyone was happy for her. It was obvious that he was only a sperm donor as far as my family was concerned. And, it was obvious. The pregnancy had its issues. My sister was ill all the time. That illness was what sent her to her physician immediately, thus, finding out very early about the pregnancy. My brother-in-law was going to have to go without sex for about eight months. Well, a good fuck buddy of mine called me up a couple of weeks later, and we made plans to go to our favourite adult book store. My buddy (Brad) had finally pozzed me about a year ago. He talked me into not going on meds. We spent all the time that we could at bath houses, sex parties, adult book stores, and cruising parks. Brad loved to watch me get fucked. He always added his load to my ass whenever we called it a night. We had arrived at ABS and had been there about 20 minutes when I looked up and saw my brother-in-law coming in the peeps section. I grabbed Brad and pulled him into a booth that had a glory hole. I quickly told him why I had dragged him in the booth and that I would have to stay there until Devon left. Just as I finished telling Brad, the door to the booth next to us opened and closed. We heard the lock engaged, tokens dropped, and the movies begin rolling through. Carefully, I peered through only to discover Devon. I thought I would have fun with Devon and began to finger the glory hole. I was quietly chuckling as I knew Devon didn’t know what my finger meant. Brad kept playfully slapping on me as he snickered. I was looking up at Brad when he stopped. His eyes widened and mouth gaped. He pointed toward the wall. I turned to see a hard cock hesitantly being pushed through the hole. I was stunned. I stared a few seconds before my senses returned. My mouth wrapped around Devon’s cut 9 thick inches as I swallowed down to the pubes. I went to work on my brother-in-law to see just what he had. Devon kept a steady in and out going. I could hear his balls hit the wall with a good “thud” on each in stroke. My jaws began to ache a bit but I held steady. As if Devon knew about my jaws, he began to pick up his pace. Very soon, he was fucking my mouth like a pro. Brad and I heard a deep rumble of a growl that grew until at last I felt Devon’s cock hit the back of my throat where it began to spew huge globs of his ball juice. The barrage lasted several minutes after which Devon slid his cock out of my mouth and stuffed it in his pants. Instead of leaving as I expected, a short time passed when a piece of paper appeared at the hole. I took it and stood up. Brad and I read the note. I was dumbstruck. Devon was offering me the opportunity to suck him again at his home. The bastard! He was going to have a man over to his house to suck him while my sister—his wife—was pregnant! No doubt he would have to get her out of the house long enough. The bastard! Brad grabbed the note and wrote a reply. Brad agreed for me but the meeting would take place at “my” apartment—I learned later meaning Brad’s apartment. Devon was to come alone on Friday night at 9:00 sharp. Devon agreed, and Brad provided his address and phone number to cancel if he needed to. After Devon left, Brad told me that Devon knew my apartment but did not know Brad’s. Devon would have me in Brad’s bed room in the dark and a hood on. Devon would never recognize me. Brad said we should see how long we could lure Devon astray. I looked at Brad in awe at his quick wittedness and began laughing. Friday arrived and everything went just as Brad had outlined. Brad explained that I had a fetish and liked to wear a hood. Brad also explained that he was a good friend of mine who was there for support. Devon was a bit leery but finally okay with that. I did a repeat of my role at the book store. Brad gave Devon an okay that he could stop by if he wanted my services again but to call first to be sure. After he left, Brad was sure Devon would become a regular. Indeed, he did, and at each meeting I never spoke a word. For almost two months, Devon stopped by 2 to 3 times a week to get his cock serviced by me. It was then that Brad wanted to up the ante. Then, when Devon arrived one night, Brad offered to rim Devon. Brad became somewhat arbitrary and told Devon that he could have his ass eaten or his visits would be over. Devon was very agitated demanding to know why the change. Brad explained he was a world class ass eater and liked practicing what he was so good at doing. Devon finally agreed but was pissed. Brad rimmed and ate Devon’s ass like a pro each visit for the next month and a half. It was obvious that Devon was enjoying his ass worked on with each visit. Moans were now being made as well as him stopping in mid-stroke to reach behind to pull his cheeks wider apart. Brad upped the game once more and began fingering Devon. More moans as well as his body shivering in erotic vibrations. Brad was pacing Devon’s downfall. By the fourth month of our little deception, Devon had grown to enjoy having his cock sucked at the same time as his ass being worked over. It was patently obvious that Devon was enjoying himself. Then, as Devon was dressing to leave, he stopped and asked if I would be willing to let him fuck me. Brad looked at me and told him that would be okay. I was very prepared the next time Devon showed up. I sucked his cock for several minutes edging him as Brad worked feverishly on Devon’s ass. It was clear that Devon was in a high state of arousal. Brad stood up and moved to our sides. He pulled me off Devon’s cock and had me to climb on the bed with my ass hanging over. All the while, Brad was slowly jacking Devon’s cock keeping him aroused. Brad also was telling Devon that fucking my ass was going to be like sliding into warm silk. Brad told Devon that he needed to concentrate on looking at my hole as it puckered and winked. He kept saying that was me showing how ready I was to be fucked. Brad had his mouth up to Devon’s ear and was whispering everything. Devon was hypnotized as Brad slowly and methodically moved Devon into position with his piss slit at my opening. Devon never mentioned needing a condom. I held my breath as Brad coaxed and urged Devon to move his cock closer to my hole. Brad gently pushed Devon closer until at last his piss slit touched my hole. Devon sighed deeply at the contact. Brad spoke faster about how warm the inside would feel once Devon slid his cock in my ass. Devon looked to be in a haze Brad told me later but finally grasped my legs and pushed gently then more firmly until the head of his cock popped inside my sphincter. I moaned in such erotic agony at watching the scene play out as well as feeling my brother-in-law entering my ass. Devon then shoved his bloated cock all the way inside my screaming ass and began to pound me. Brad stood by Devon and fed him words of encouragement telling him he was doing great and to fuck my ass harder. He talked about how hot my ass felt on his cock and how tight my ring was encircling his cock. More and more Brad kept up his salacious words of encouragement to Devon. I knew they were having an effect on Devon because by this time he was pounding my ass knocking me away from him. Brad told him to grab my legs and to pull me closer so that he, Devon, could fuck my ass harder and deeper. Devon did so, and by this time, he was drenched in sweat. His cock had swollen to an unbelievable size. Later I thought about that and realized that Devon was absolutely turned on to fucking another man. I would dwell on that thought many times. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Devon screamed thrusting inside me as he unleashed a torrent of cum. I saw through my eye slits in the mask that his eyes were wildly open, and he began having trouble breathing. He pumped a huge amount of cum in me. After many minutes, his grip on me lessened. Slowly, his spent cock slid out of my ass. Devon was shaking. He backed away from me and sank down onto the floor where he heaved trying to get his breathing under control. Brad gently helped Devon back onto his feet. He did up his clothing and left with a promise to return. He wanted to fuck again.

So for many years now I have been reading these stories. Truth be told they never fail with getting me to cum. I love the idea of a guy getting tweaked to the point that he just gives up all inhibitions and just takes all the cum and cock which is offered. Anywho I figure that I would tell my story of how I got pozzed. I had just started my first year of college I was 19 and I was still full of homrmones. Just so you know I am a bear about 5-6 190 brown hair green eyes and very vers. But one day I was cruising on adam4adam and I ran across this guy. He was mid 40s very built at 5-9 170 washboard abs and just made me weak in the knees. So after some chatting I ended up taking a bus to his house I knocked on the door and he let me in. We started talking and before I knew it he was offering me a shot of some really cheap liquor. It was super bitter and I remember that after I took it I just felt very relaxed. Next thing I knew he was offering me a bowl. This was also really good pot and had me high as hell. I remember that we started to shotgun back and forth. He then locked his lips with mone and we started to make out like nothing else. His lips were soft and just felt amazing against my own. He took my shirt off and asked me what all I was wanting to do. I said anything that felt right. He then looked at me as he ran his hand through the fir on my chest and then grabbed it and pulled tight and he then kissed me again as he started to kiss my ear and then whispered to me that he was going to change me that night. I don’t know why but I felt that the whole world just stopped and I knew that I would be a different person after that night. It felt right and it felt that it was my time. I wasn’t totally sure what was going on but I just felt every fiber in my being say yes. He then covered my mouth with a really cold wet rag and told me to inhale. I did and I felt the world start to spin and he was kissing me again as he started to grab for my belt. He un did the buckle and then looked at me and asked me to take his shirt off. The body which was before me was glorious. He was built and was just a flat out amazingly handsome man. I started to come out of the fog and I asked what that stuff was. He said poppers and then showed me how it came in a bottle and a can. He then opened the bottle and showed me hwo to hit it. I did and just wanted to feel him in me with this extreme desire to get fucked. He then stopped and asked me if I like x. I had never taken x before and told him that. So at this point I have to admit that I was definatly not in a right state of mind. We stopped and started soking some more pot and this time it was not the same kind of buzz that you usually get when you are slowly starting to get stoned. This time it was had a more intese tingly body buzz. The x was kicking in too and then he said to me that the pot has some T in it. I had never used T before but I was kind of liking it. The next thing I knew I was locked with his lips again and was removing my pants and felt his finger at my hole. I felt a burn in my ass and then I felt a unholy desire to be used. Next thing I knew my legs were up in the air with my ass spread open. I felt his mouth on my hole and his tounge probing into me. It felt so amazing to feel my hole being lapped at like that. I then felt another burn and then he licked my hole more this time my hole was grabbing at his tounge and pulling on it. He said to me that it felt hot with how my hole was pulling at his tounge. He then told me how he was shoving shards up meth up my ass. I thought it was an amazing experience so far. He then pulled away from me while my body was screaming to be fucked. He then looked into my eyes and told me that he was poz and that he wanted to make me like him. I freaked out for a moment, looked at him, and was shocked yet my body was betraying me. Now I have never been a chaser let alone a barebacker but at this point it suddenly felt that this was the right thing to do. I felt that I was meant to let this guy charge me up. And then at that point I looked back into his eyes and kissed him. He then asked me if I was sure and I said yes. At that point he told me to hold still and wrapped a tourniquet around my arm and then swabbed my arm sterile and the stuck me with a needle and said prepare. I remember that when he removed the tourniquet I felt this warm rush up my arm and into my chest. I felt that my heart was about to beat out of my chest and that I couldn’t breath. I coughed and then I felt something in me that I was not prepared for his 9 inch cock. I felt that I was having an anal orgasm as he pounded away at my ass. He looked at me and then gave me some more max. I started to scream to make me poz. About an hour later we were still ficking and then he looked at me and said that he had a high viral load and that he was about to cum. I said please seed me and knock me up.

If you let the top know how you'd like it, I'm sure he'll be happy to oblige. I've given it up the ass, directly in the mouth, and even from 2' away all over a guy as he wore a business suit. People have all sorts of likes and kinks, so no big deal to speak up and say what you want.

Cash. The most important part of the experience is the CASH*. Even if you're goal is to wreck a bitch or totally break him, you still gotta charge at least a dollar, or a 1/2 a pack of smokes. Nothing makes a banged-out boy cunt feel more like a CumDump/JizzBag/TownPump/WorthlessWhore than knowing he just got knocked up by a hobo for 50¢ in pennies. After your whore pays for the hotel room and party supplies out of his own pocket, you keep all the cash, 'cause it ain't easy being a Pimp. *There are blokes that get off on paying large bank for a tumble because of -fuck who knows? Self-worth, self-esteem issues, Fuck it, you're not his mommy, book those guys for very last, when your lad's hole is completely banged out and sloppy, ruined basically, then tell the bloke if he wants to smash his lil' twig up in that blubbery cunt it's gonna cost twice the previously agreed upon price, and to take the offer or fuck off. (They always take the offer)

Of course, it would be rude not to.

Most of the time, when top at a gloryhole, I am just sucked, which is what I am expecting. (And I ALWAYS cum in his mouth.) A handful of times, the guy makes a move to get fucked through the gloryhole. I will usually take him up on it, though there have been times when I was concerned about cleanliness and hygiene and declined. There was one time about a year ago when I actually got tricked. I was pumping away through the hole, enjoying his mouth, when I felt him pull off and give me a nice handjob. I didn't think anything of it, since a bottom's mouth might need a short rest. After a couple seconds, I felt a familiar warm feeling envelope my cock, and I thought he had resumed sucking. In fact, he and another bottom with him behind the gloryhole had maneuvered so that my cock slide into the second guy's hole almost seamlessly. The hole was very loose, lubed, and, I think, full of cum, so I actually didn't notice for several strokes. Once I did, I pumped furiously, and shot a load of semen up his already full hole within about 30 seconds. It was hot. I pulled out, let the first guy clean my wet cock, and we all three had a laugh.

Part 10 The cool air of the patio felt wonderful as it cooled off my sweaty body as I rolled on the X and G. The men who knew Master well knew why I had two 5 dollar bills in my mouth, and they just smiled and laughed. Master replaced the money with a lit joint, and I inhaled the sweet, sweet smoke. After a few hits, Master took back the joint as one of the men grabbed me and started kissing me, grinding his hairy chest into me and grabbing my ass cheeks. He unzipped the back of my shorts and pawed my bare ass while he tongued my mouth. I moaned as I sucked on his tongue. Another man came behind me as started sucking and biting my neck as he reached around and pinched my nipples. I groaned and shook as the men pleasured my body, my cock digging painfully into its cage, bringing more pain and pleasure to my drugged up state. Soon I was passed to another man who pushed me against the brick wall, grinding my back into it while he raped my mouth with his tongue. He pushed the plug into my ass which made my dick leak fluid. For the next hour I was passed between various men so they could kiss me, fondle me, and get me hornier and hornier. I was quietly begging each man to fuck me as they set fire to my body with their mouths and hands. I didn't even see their faces as I melted into each of them. Eventually, I felt Master tug my leash as he pulled me away toward the door. He led me through the bar and out the front, with a small group of his friends following us. I already knew what was up as we all walked back to Masters apartment. Once inside, I stripped as expected, and obediently sat on the floor in my spot by the couch. Looking up, I saw Master and 7 other men. They were all older, some I recognized having tried to pick me up before, but I had thought they weren't good enough for me. Now, I was about to be their piggy cumdump, and I had no choice in the matter. And I didn't care. As they stripped my cock pushed painfully into its cage, and my pussy twitched around the plug. Most were hairy, several had bellies. One guy was like a gorilla, covered in dense, black hair, and one guy looked like Santa, long white hair and beard, with a thick grey pelt covering his torso and round belly. These two made me drool the most. I couldn't wait to feel their fur grind into my skin as they fucked me. And I didn't have to wait long. I was quickly grabbed and somebody pulled out the plug, and instantly a hard cock was shoved in its place. I moaned as the fucker buried himself balls deep in my cumhole. A cock was shoved in my mouth, and poppers under my nose. I went wild as I became the best slut I could be for Master. I begged the men to fuck me, use me, degrade me. And they did. They spit on my face, in my mouth, slapped me, and called me every degrading name in the book. I had big cocks forced down my throat as my head was held tight, nose buried in pubes. I choked and gagged for air as my cunt was pounded hard. I was passed around and around, always pleading to be fucked more, and thanking each man when he dumped his load in my worthless whorehole. When the gorilla man fucked me, I wrapped my arms and legs around him as he ground his body into mine, kissing me deep and hard, taking temporary ownership of my two cumholes. I howled in ecstasy when he bred me, my own cock leaking tons of fluid. My pussy leaked cum as he pulled out, my hole remaining open, needing more cock. I sat on Santa's cock as he laid on the floor. Another man came behind me and slid his cock into me next to Santa's. It slid right in my loose gash, and I writhed and moaned as the two cocks scissored in and out of me while Santa tortured my nipples, causing me to pant like a bitch in heat. They fucked me like that for a long time before they both shot their cum deep into my guts. I collapsed my sweaty body on the hairy pelt beneath me, rubbing my nipples into the wirey hair. The party continued late into the night, until nobody had any more cum to unload into me. Master went into the bedroom and came back with a huge dildo and a glass. I didn't even need to be told what to do as I pushed all the cum from inside me into the glass. Then Master unlocked my cage, releasing my cock wich instantly sprang to a painful erection. Handing me the dildo, he told me, "I want you to fuck yourself boy. And not easy. When I say go, ram it up your cunt as hard as you can. Show these men what a true whore you are. Ram your hole as hard as you can!" With that, Master handed me the fat, 12 inch long rubber cock, while someone shoved poppers under my nose. I was made to take hit after hit, until I was dizzy. "Go!" Commanded Master. Without thinking, or hesitation, I rammed the dildo straight into my ass, moaning loudly as I buried it to the balls. I grabbed the base and pounded my hole as the men cheered me on. Master grabbed my jaw and opened my mouth, pouring the glass of cum from my ass all over my tongue. "Keep your mouth open pig!" He ordered me. "Don't swallow. Let the men enjoy what a dirty bitch you are." Master then grabbed my cock and stroked it while I fucked myself. "Don't cum boy! Don't cum until I tell you too." But it was pointless. I was so fucking horny, not having cum in a week, I couldn't controll my orgasm. After a few strokes I rammed the dildo in as far as I could and ground it against my prostate as ropes of cum spurted from my cock, the first shot landing in my open mouth. I shook and yelled as I blew my nut, my balls aching from finally being released. Soon I was coated in a huge load that Master scooped up and added to the rest in my mouth. The party being over, the men left, and Master and I were alone in bed. His cock was rock hard, as he was the only man not to fuck me tonight. He pulled me onto his cock, and I sat down with a sigh. He then produced some nipple clamps with sharp teeth that dug into my flesh. I hissed as he tightened them, causing my pussy to squeeze his cock. "You failed me tonight slut. You came without permission. That will be a rather sever punishment tomorrow. You will learn that I, as your owner, control when you cum." I hung my head in shame as he said this. "Now, I want you to tell me what a dirty, depraved, pig you are while I jack your cock. You will cum again, but only when I say." I did as he said, telling him all the nasty things he wanted to hear, while he stroked me and pulled on the clamps. I went crazy as he edged me over and over. Finally, he said it. "Cum slut! Cum for your Master!" I shot another large load all over Masters chest as he milked my cock. My spasming ass triggered his own ejaculation as he filled my cumhole one last time for the night. After I licked his chest clean, we snuggled together and drifted off as I contemplated my punishment.

I don't even really know what a Pokemon is, but I was walking through Macy's, randomly saw this shirt, and stopped and bought it ON THE SPOT.

CHAPTER 4 “What did you stop for? Keep going! Don’t stop now,” came the begging cries from Devon. “Please, don’t stop fucking me! Fuck me. Come on, man, FUCK ME!” Brad turned and winked at me. He resumed fucking Devon driving into him as a drive shaft on a train turning the wheels as fast as possible. Devon continued to moan louder. Then, Devon raised up on his hands giving a deep guttural growl and began back slamming onto Brad’s cock. It was amazing to watch the two of them in tandem. Each had a determination but for a different cause. “FUUUUUUUCCCCCK!” Brad bellowed as he unleashed his more potent poisonous swimmers into Devon’s ass. Brad drove his cock deep into Devon’s ass holding it there until there was nothing left. Devon sank down onto the bed as Brad slowly withdrew his bloody and slime-covered cock from Devon’s wrecked ass. Brad sank down to the floor to steady himself. Devon slowly got off the bed. He looked around. He got his clothes together and got dressed. He walked slowly to the bedroom door and stopped. He stood there conflicted and his face averted. Finally he quietly asked, “Would . . . would it be okay if I came back tomorrow night?” Brad said, “Sure.” Devon left. For almost five months, Devon came back to Brad’s apartment two to three times a week to get fucked by both of us and sometimes to fuck me. Brad and I filled him as much as we could with our poison juices. On one special occasion, we each fucked two loads of our poison in Devon. He was becoming a veritable cum whore. Devon showed up one night a couple of months later and said he wasn’t feeling well and wasn’t sure he should be there. Brad insisted that he stay and began undressing Devon who offered no protest. We both fucked our loads in his ass. After Brad was finished, he told Devon he wanted to finger him for old time’s sake and Devon consented. Brad used his nails on Devon who winced and jerked but by this time never made a sound of protest. Brad showed me his bloody fingers. I sucked them clean. We sent Devon packing and celebrated by Brad fucking my brains out twice. Brad was as eager to pump his poison into me in celebration as I was eager to get a fresh load of his poison nectar. Three days later Devon called and told us that there was no way he could make it. He was much too sick. He said he had the flu but couldn’t understand how that could be. Brad told Devon to call back in ten minutes. Devon agreed. I called my parents and told them to call my sister. I knew if my sister told them Devon was ill they would get her out of the house and take her to stay with them. That was what happened. When Devon called back, he told us he was alone and sick. His wife had gone to stay with her parents while he was ill. Brad told Devon to give his address and we would come over to help him. He hesitated but finally relented. Devon answered the door. He looked terrible. I didn’t care what the neighbours thought if they saw me entering in a black leather hood and Devon never mentioned it. Inside, we went to the master bedroom where Devon fell back into bed. Brad wasted no time and stripped as did I. We both stripped Devon and got him on the bed. He kept protesting but he never really tried to stop us. And, for the next three days Brad and I kept fucking and filling Devon with our poisonous loads. On the third day, Brad and I told Devon that he was getting better and that we were leaving. Devon was a bit disappointed. He walked us to the door opening it courteously. Brad said his good-bye and walked out. I turned to look directly at Devon and removed my hood. Devon’s eyes popped out as he took a couple of steps backwards and gasped. “For all the evil vicious things you have ever done to my sister, you have now been re-paid in kind. You need to go see your doctor and have an HIV test run because I’m pretty sure you are now HIV positive. Brad and I have seen to that. And, when you ask my sister for a divorce, she gets everything, and I mean everything. If she doesn’t, your HIV status will be all over this town,” I quietly said. I smiled, did a little bow, turned, and walked out the door never looking back. Months after my nephew was born Devon asked for the divorce. My sister got everything. I kept my mouth closed. And, Brad and I would run into Devon at our favourite adult book store from time to time. There were no hard feelings now . . . on my part. I enjoyed watching my former brother-in-law turn his ass around for any man to fuck. From an arrogant prick, I’ve watched him become a repository for cum and from what I’ve seen and heard especially HIV cum.

CHAPTER 3 Devon felt the deep hunger of needing sex and to shoot his cum load. His hormones were running rampant causing all kinds of wild ideas to flash through his mind. His brain then focused on how his ass felt when he was being rimmed and fingered. He could not get that idea out of his mind. He shuddered. “Well, no one is to know what happened. I mean no one. I’ll know who told if I ever hear anything about this, and I’ll deny it totally.” With those words, Brad was now ready to set in motion a new path for Devon. This would be the path that would be his undoing. This would be the path that would tear his world apart and shatter it into a trillion pieces. This would be the path where I got revenge for my sister’s ill treatment. I almost screamed with glee at what I knew was going to happen now. I owed Brad big time and would pay him whatever he wanted. Brad slowly rose up. “Okay. Let’s get you in a comfortable position. You kneel on the bed hanging your feet over the side. Bend forward all the way so that you lay on the bed. That’s it; tuck your hands under your face for comfort. Now, I’m going to put a lot of lube in your ass and around the outside so that it will be easier on you. It’s just lube. It makes things slide smoothly.” Brad told me to insert slowly my lubed fingers in Devon’s ass and open it a little. With some difficulty because of Devon’s tight ass, I did as instructed. Brad then began pouring lube inside Devon after which he had me to remove my fingers and used his own to spread the lube about. “Now, how does that feel? That’s even better isn’t it?” Brad asked. Devon moaned and agreed it felt even better than when he was being fingered earlier by Brad. Brad made sure to once again knock at Devon’s prostate. That elicited a couple of gasps each time. “Now, you’ve seen the cock on James (Brad had to name me something.). It’s small enough for you to take easily. I’ll monitor everything so that you can feel how super it feels. James’ cock is a mere 7 inches so he won’t go anywhere near as deep as your cock does,” Brad announced. “Besides, all we’re doing is letting you feel how a cock in an ass feels. Nothing more.” Devon shook his head in assent. I was heady with glee as I stepped up behind Devon. Brad guided my cut 6 ½ inches to Devon’s wrinkled and tightly closed virgin opening. Brad gave me the signal to go very slow which I did. There was a tremendous resistance and Devon began growling in pain. Just as I was sure this was not going to work, the head of my cock popped through Devon’s sphincter with a loud POP. Devon jerked his head upright and yelped. Brad hurried to Devon’s side consoling him and telling him it would be okay. Brad kept his arm around Devon to prevent him from actually pulling off my cock. It was also a subliminal signal to Devon that Brad was his friend and there to help him. The pain was just an initial shock and would pass. By the time Brad finished talking to Devon, the pain had begun to fade. Brad motioned for me to begin sliding inside Devon. Brad had me to slide slowly inside for a few seconds, stop, slide backwards, stop, then, repeat the process until at last I was fully inserted inside Devon. My balls were both rolling around with excitement. I was very close to cumming. Brad orchestrated the entire process until soon enough I was fucking Devon, and he was not protesting. My mind raged at the thought of when my balls would empty their contaminated content into this bastard’s ass. I knew what I wanted to do but held myself back to make sure that Devon did not panic. As I continued to fuck Devon, Brad now began to touch Devon with caresses. Brad’s hands were all over Devon: his ears, his cheeks, his back, his sides. I saw the touches that Brad did to Devon. They were such gentle caresses that he made which no doubt soothed Devon’s nerves. Brad moved closer to Devon and began talking to him telling him how great he was doing. He asked him how he was feeling and was there any pain now. He asked if a cock in his ass felt better than fingers and a tongue. Devon moaned his feeling of contentment. He agreed that, yes, a cock felt a lot better in his ass. Devon’s voice held a tremor in it as he spoke. Brad indicated for me to up my fucking. Devon moaned long and loud as I increased my tempo. Several minutes passed as I fucked Devon. I was now really about to shoot my cum load. Brad then asked Devon if he wanted to feel what it felt like when Devon had fucked me. “You do want to know what James feels don’t you? You are curious about that now that you know what it feels like having a cock in your ass. You know you want to feel James cumming in your ass don’t you? Don’t you, Devon? You want James to pump his cum load deep in your ass. Say it, Devon. Say it!” “Yes, I want to feel James pumping his cum load deep in my ass. Please, please, please, James pump your cum load in my ass!” Devon half shouted as he shook his head. I shoved my cock as far inside Devon as I could and blasted out everything that I had in me. I filled Devon with millions and millions of my poisonous wriggling half-babies. I yelled. Devon yelled and began to gasp for air as his head swung up off the bed once more as the last of my sperm drained into Devon’s ass. I was thinking of how this bastard had so mistreated my sister. I so wanted to poz him. Brad waited until I began slowly pulling out and began again on Devon. “You liked that didn’t you? In fact, you liked that a whole lot more than my tongue and fingers, didn’t you? You liked James fucking you and fucking you until he shot his cum inside you deep. You liked that a lot, didn’t you? You want MORE cum in your ass, don’t you? You want a LOT more cum in your ass. You want my cum in there, too, don’t you? Don’t you? Don’t you?” Over and over and over Brad went after Devon until at last Devon screamed, “YES. I WANT TO BE FUCKED BY YOU AND FILLED WITH YOUR CUM, TOO!” Brad wasted no time. He jumped up from the bed pushing me out of the way. He lined up his uncut 9 ½ inches at Devon’s hole, grabbed Devon’s hips, winked at me, and plunged full length into Devon’s ass. There was such a blood curdling howl that came from Devon. He tried to pull away but Brad knew what to do and kept his cock in Devon and Devon on the bed in front of Brad. Brad began fucking Devon immediately and soon the pain ebbed to nothing. Devon once more began rolling his head and moaning his contented feeling. Brad pounded Devon’s ass viciously. I do not recall ever seeing Brad this over the top. And, then, Brad stopped. He just stopped. He said nothing. He did nothing. Minutes passed. I had no clue what he was waiting for. And, then, Devon spoke up.

CHAPTER 2 Once he had gone, Brad told me that almost the entire time that Devon was fucking me he had gotten two of his fingers in Devon’s ass and had finger fucked him. He grinned evilly and told me that just at the right time his fingernails had been used on Devon. No doubt he liked the feeling Brad said. We looked at each other and knew we were on our way. Just as he had said, Devon showed up on Wednesday and on Friday nights. He fucked me like a madman as Brad tore up Devon’s ass with his fingernails. It was so delightful knowing that soon he was going to get his comeuppance. I was so looking forward to that. It would be a tricky thing though. Then, on Tuesday night, Devon showed up as agreed to but things had to be postponed. Brad explained that at the last minute I couldn’t make it. Brad explained he was apartment sitting for me as I had to go out of town. Brad was so sincere sounding as he told Devon that it was such a shame and that he could understand at being frustrated. Devon tried to get Brad to bottom for him but Brad explained that he didn’t get fucked; he just liked to eat ass and fuck ass also. Devon left very frustrated sounding. For the next two weeks, Brad kept Devon at bay. He was so sympathetic to Devon and his plight. Each time that Devon arrived, he left with a bit more angst, edginess, and frustration. Brad cooed his sympathy to Devon. Brad was as good as any funeral director. He commiserated with Devon about my lack of commitment to taking care of Devon. I heard it all from Brad’s closet as the two berated my lack of seriousness. Devon left again no doubt with the bluest of balls. Brad and I rejoiced at how things were going. Devon’s nerves were on total edge. He would be back next Friday ready to explode. Brad was going to make sure that Devon was fully packed with TNT because he was going to get a big bang on Friday. Friday at nine sharp, Devon knocked on the front door. Brad let him in and excitedly told Devon that I was back in town and ready in the bedroom. Devon I heard rushing down the hallway. He stopped in the doorway looking crazed. He did something then that he had never done before: He stripped totally tossing his clothes in all directions. His cock was hard and dripping I could see. He strode over to me on the bed and yanked my legs upward putting them on his shoulders. Devon took his hands and pulled my cheeks open lining his piss slit up to my hole. He released his hands as he leaned over me grabbing my shoulders. I looked at his face which had a crazed look on it. Truly, Devon was in need of sexual release. I had but a split moment to consider if I was going to be able to deal with his heightened sexual arousal. I was determined to give it my best. I felt a searing pain as Devon’s dripping cut 9 inches of monster manhood crammed itself inside my body. I screamed at the sharpness. Devon gave no hint that he had heard me but drove his baby maker stick deep inside me and began to fuck me wildly. Brad stepped up to Devon’s side as usual and began a narrative of encouragements about how good it was to get back in my ass, how hot it was, hadn’t Devon missed fucking, feel how my sphincter was tight around his cock begging Devon to fuck harder and deeper. Devon I could tell was ramping up his game from Brad’s encouraging words. Then, Brad grabbed Devon by both shoulders and twisted his body around hard so that Devon’s cock pulled out of my ass in mid stroke. Devon was beside himself. “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT FOR?” he screamed as his body shook. “I thought you’d want me to eat your ass and maybe finger your hole as I usually do,” Brad said innocently. “ARE YOU CRAZY? ARE YOU NUTS?” Devon screamed as his shaking continued. “You always seemed to enjoy me doing that to you. I just thought that might be something you’d enjoy tonight as well. I really wanted to make up to you in my own small way for him being gone,” Brad said dejectedly. “I really only wanted to help you out being you’re so tense and backed up.” Brad poured it on thick, and Devon bought it. “Yeah. Yeah. I did enjoy you eating my ass. That turned me on and so did your fingering me. Man, I’ve thought about that a lot. I didn’t like it at first but you somehow knew what to do and made it feel good,” Devon said having calmed down a bit but still highly strung from lack of sexual release. He was still highly aroused I could tell also from the pre-cum dripping out of his turgid cock. “Well, then, why don’t you stand there by the bed, but lean over it. You can put your hands flat or do elbows or whatever is comfortable for you. I’ll eat your ass and finger you some since you enjoy that, too,” Brad suggested offhandedly. “When you have had enough, you can go back to fucking him.” Brad pointed to me with the last statement. “You should be plenty aroused by then I’m betting.” “Yeah. Okay,” Devon said as he repositioned himself. He tried first doing flat handed on the bed but wasn’t comfortable with that. He then put himself on elbows and waited. Brad knelt behind Devon spreading his cheeks and began feasting. Brad was, no, is a consummate ass eater. I know from experience how well he eats an ass. It was not long before Devon was twisting his head about and moaning. Brad worked all over Devon’s ass with his tongue as well as doing small nips with his teeth. The first time that Brad nipped Devon there was a startled “Oh” but he returned to moaning and never made another protest. Brad drove his tongue deeply into Devon’s hole. Brad’s tongue can be a very rigid tool. I knew what Brad was doing and began biding my time before the big bang would occur. After 20 minutes or so, Brad pulled his mouth off Devon’s hole and slowly inserted two wet fingers. Devon hissed an intake of air but said nothing. Brad massaged deeper and deeper and began twisting and turning his fingers. Periodically, Brad would massage Devon’s prostate just to keep him reminded of what he was to feel later. I watched intently as Brad continued to work over Devon’s hole. I noticed that Devon was relaxed and fully enjoying the sensational ass work that Brad was doing. And, then, it happened. “Man, that feels so good. Your eating my ass was phenomenal and what you’re doing now is even better,” Devon said somewhat dreamily. “Keep it up. Man, that is so good.” Brad looked up at me and grinned as his eyes sparkled. He had Devon now on the hook. He had to make that jerk to be sure he was fully caught and then reel him in. Brad began alternating between rimming Devon and chewing on his cheeks and fingering him. He picked up a little speed with every intent of driving Devon crazy and wanting more. In a few minutes, Devon asked, “Is this what it feels like to be fucked? Man, this is really feeling good to me.” Brad slowed his fingering and said, “No, this isn’t really what it feels like to be fucked but it is very similar. The difference is that a cock is bigger and goes deeper. The euphoria that you feel is the same though only much, much more. It is an unbelievable wonderful feeling having a cock in your ass. You get such an intimate feeling with your body. It’s as if you learn who you really are.” Brad went back to eating Devon’s ass and fingering him. He picked up his speed and gave Devon his best ever work. Devon now was almost in a constant moan as he pushed backwards onto Brad’s tongue or fingers. Brad continued until Devon was almost demanding in his backward thrusts. Brad stopped and said, “I don’t want be rude and don’t mean to insult you. Would you want to know what it feels like to have a cock in your ass? I mean, you are really getting into my rimming you and fingering your ass. You really are enjoying it. I’m not talking about fucking you. I’m just talking about . . . a . . . cock . . . gently . . . easing into your ass very slowly and letting you feel in reality what it’s like.” Brad said nothing more and waited for his measured offer. Devon stayed bent over pondering the offer. He relished the sensation that he was feeling from being rimmed and fingered all so well. His intense sexual urges now were raging in him. His libido drove his decision. “I . . . I . . . I’ve not done anything queer like that,” Devon said loudly to protest such a possibility. Devon’s verbal protest was noted by Brad, but Devon’s body position also was noted. “Oh, no, I never meant to imply that you had done such. It was only that you seemed to enjoy my rimming and fingering you. And, you did ask how it felt to be fucked. No, I just meant that for the purpose of feeling the difference between my tongue and fingers and a cock a comparison could be made. No, I would never suggest that you would engage in things queers do,” Brad said and almost burst out laughing at the absurdity.

Spent last week at a hotel. one night before dinner i jumped on Grindr to see if anyone was looking. Saw a guy on 200 ft away. He was on the floor below me. no pics though. Profile said he was a thick dicked top and looking to get sucked or more. Pretty sure he was married or closeted. I hit him up and after a few messages he gave me his room number. He asked if i wanted to fuck and i said lets see what happens. i don't usually hook up without a pic or two but went for it anyway. his door was ajar when i got there. dark room but I could see him when i entered. he was tall with average looks and manly. I got busy and pulled out his cock. Wow, very thick. got on my knees and worked it and sucked him til he was very hard. then i pulled my sweats down. kneeled up on the bed and presented my ass to him. i saw condoms on the night stand but he didn't offer them to me. instead he grabbed my hips and just started rubbing his stiff cock on my hole. poking it. i brought lube and poppers so i quickly reached under and back and slicked up his cock from behind and pushed my ass back on his dick. he slowly pushed in to let me adjust to his thick cock. took a hit of poppers, arched my back good and he slid all the way in to his balls. i held him there until i was ready and then he started to fuck my hole good. Heaven. Love thick dicked men. about 5 to 8 minutes later he said he was going to cum and i told him to just cum in my ass. Beautiful throbbing dick as he blew his load in my ass. I asked him not to pull out and keep his still hard cock in me for a couple more minutes. then he pulled out. i pulled up my sweats and thanked him, kissed him and left. So hot. Went to dinner with his cum in my hole.

As soon as I finish this side story, I'll be going back to the other story. Glad everyone is enjoying the story so far. --- Part 3- Without realizing it, I held my breath, waiting for Garrett’s massive cock to enter my hole. “Damn boy, even with stretching this tight boy pussy, it doesn’t want to give,” he said, pulling out the brown bottle from before from piled up towel. Opening it, he took a couple deep sniffs before handing it to me. “Here, sniff these.” Instantly, I knew them to be poppers. Countless porn videos and online stores had taught me about them. I took several deep hits. Moments later, I felt a warmth spread throughout my body. I let out a deep sigh and handed the bottle back to Garrett, and watch as he closed it back up, tossing it beside me before stepping back up to my hole. My heart began to race as I felt the head of his massive cock press against my hole. Pulling out the cigar from his mouth for a moment, he hocked up a large gob of spit and began to rub it around on my hole with the head of his dick. He began to press harder and harder again. I was worried that I would never be able to take his cock when finally my hole relaxed and his thick meat slid deep inside me. I about screamed out at the intrusion and stretching of my ass muscles when Garrett pulled me close and began to tongue-fuck my mouth, distracting me as he slid the rest of the way in. It seemed like it took forever, but finally, I felt his large bull balls bounce against my ass as his dense forest of pubes began to rub against my ass cheeks. “Fuck yeah boy, deep in you now. Doin’ ok?” he asked, pulling away and ending our kiss. “Oh god… yes!” was my only reply. I had loved the feeling of his tongue and fingers probing my ass, but with his huge dick inside me, I felt a deep feeling of lust spreading out from deep inside me. Even with the pain and uncomfortable stretching of my asshole, and the deep ache of his thick member rearranging my guts, I knew I would never want to be without Garrett’s thick cock up my hole. Until he began to start fucking me. Slowly, he began to pull out until only his massive cock head was left inside me, pressing slightly against my prostate, only to be shoved back in again, stroking the swollen gland inside me. We both began to grunt as Garrett began to pick up his pace. I began to adjust to the new sensations of being fucked and filled my ass opening up under the steady assault and its lips clinging to his shaft as he pulled back out again. I moaned loudly as he increased his pace more, slamming me harder. I let out a whimper in appreciation. Suddenly I felt a weird sensation in my ass and Garrett suddenly stopped thrusting into me. “SHIT!” he growled out loud, as he slowly began to pull out of me. Confused, I looked at him, trying to figure out why he stopped. “Condom broke dude,” he said, starting to work his cock head out of my hole. “Don’t!” I almost yelled, wanting him to continue to fuck and stretch my ass out. I didn't want the fun to stop now, just when I was getting into the hard fucking he was giving me. “Gotta dude,” he said, pointing to one of the tattoos on his chest, “Don’t think you're ready to take a load like mine.” “What do you mean?” I said, still confused, looking at the large scorpion on his peck. “HIV positive, bud,” he said, now out of my hole. I felt empty. I didn’t want to stop. His cock felt amazing. And in my sex-filled haze, I made up my mind. “Fuck… Don’t care. Give it to me man! Fill my ass up with your cum!” I gasped out, my voice expressing my need. I had read about guys getting intentionally pozzed online, but even in my curiosity, had never understood why they would do it until now. I needed this hulk of a man’s load inside me. Now. “Shit, boy!” Garrett said, pulling off the tattered remains of the condom from his dick, “You sure? I'm fucking toxic. And like I said before, once I get back in you, I’m not pulling out.” “Please cum in my hole sir,” I said, lifting my ass even higher in anticipation. Shoving my ass down, Garrett took a deep draw on his half-smoked cigar. “Turn around, cumslut,” he said rubbing his cock before stepping back up to the bed, “I want to make sure to plant this load nice and deep up your neg cunt so it takes.” Getting on my hands and knees, I let out a loud groan as Garrett slammed deep into my hole. He continued to rape my ass, blowing his smoke at the back of my head, enveloping me in a haze of thick cigar smoke. Not even an hour ago the most I had done with a guy was a shy kiss in the 6th grade, and now I was riding a massive poz daddy dick and loving every second. “That’s right, slam back on my diseased prick,” he said, grabbing both of my hips, helping me slam even harder back into his strokes. Both of us continued to fuck hard, my hole taking the abuse with gusto. Grabbing my chin, we started to kiss again. Sweat dripped off of both of us, and I began to notice the musky scent of Garrett. It was a smell that only a true man could make, and it made my 18-year old brain swim. “I’m gonna cum in you boy,” Garrett groaned, pulling away from me again and going back to slamming my hole. “Don’t stop,” I moan, “Please. Please don’t stop.” “Last chance boy,” he said, his thrusts becoming irregular, “You sure you want to take my poz load?” “Give it to me!” I yelled in reply. “You got it, baby,” he said in reply, and even though I didn’t think it possible, bucked even harder, grabbing my shoulders with both hands. Sweat dripped from his head and chest as we fucked. In my hole, there was no longer any pain, having now opened completed and taking his cock like a proper bottom boyhood should. “Fuck, knew you were gonna have a sexy fucking hole the second I saw you walk into that locker room,” Garrett said as he continued to pound my ass relentlessly, “But the fact it was a cherry hole made things even better. And now I get to take your poz cherry as well. You ready boy? Ready to take the load that will change your life forever?” “Oh shhhh-it, infect my hole. Fuck that dirty load deep into me! Poz me!” “You're getting it fucker,” and with that Garrett slammed deep into me one last time and shot ropes of cum inside me. I felt every shot of hot liquid into my hole and I was instantly filled with an entirely new sort of warmth. It suddenly became too much for me, and despite not touching myself during the entire ordeal, I began to shoot what felt like my largest load ever. After a long time, Garrett’s cock finally softened and he let it slip from my now loose and dripping ass. I felt a swift slap on my ass, and instinctively my hole tightened up slightly. “How was that, boy?” he asked while puffing contently on the nearly spent cigar. “Holy shit…” I said, rolling on to my back and letting my head fall back, “That was so amazing. I’ve never shot a load like that before!” Crawling on to the bed next to me, he leaned down and kissed me, blowing his smoke into my face again. "How are you feeling about taking my toxic load?" Looking down, he stared down and my quickly re-hardening cock. The talk of his poz cum swimming around inside me was exciting me. “Damn, fucker,” he said, reaching down and grasping my dick at the base, “I guess you want more. I would have thought after a hard fucking like that for your first time you would be down for the count.” Biting my lower lip, I smiled and blushed slightly. “Actually, I’m even hornier than I was when we started.” “Well, shit,” he said, surprise in his voice, “Since you seem up to taking any load up your ass, you want me to find a few more guys to fill you up?” I hesitated for only a moment when pondering his offer, but then I felt a small glob of his thick bug-filled cum make its way out of my gaping cunt, and my mind was made up. “Yes, please.” “Well bitch, since you were such a polite piggy about it, let’s go find something to really break in that new hole of yours.”

Here's the next update. I know it was annoying to be given a full chapter of filler material, but trust me when I say it gives some information that is important to my other story (let's see who figures it out). Also, its fun leaving a chapter update on a cliff-hanger. Enjoy the next update. -- My First Times- Part 2 “Right there is the maze. Not that many guys use it, but it can be pretty hot,” Garrett said, pointing down a dim hallway that ended in a turn, “And that’s the theater. Guys in there tend to just get sucked unless a really hot movie is playing, then its a fuckfest.” As we walked around, I felt Garrett continue to play with my ass, much to my enjoyment. At first, the cigar he was smoking was a bit irritating to my senses, making my eyes water slightly as the thick, musky smoke swirled around us, making me cough slightly. However, as I got used to it, I became somewhat aroused, watching the sex god giving me the tour enjoy the smoke. “Over here is the sling room. Might work your way up to that since you're a newbie to all this,” he continued, eyeing me slightly as I continued to check out his perfect body. The tour continued with a quick show of the gloryholes, then to the steam room and pool, and finally to a dark room near a flight of stairs. Upstairs were the private rooms. “And this is the dark room. Anything goes in there. I would warn you to stay clear of there unless you want to get fucked non-stop by anyone with a hard prick. Can’t see them coming st you usually,” he continued, with a laugh, smile, and shake of his head. I slowly nodded, my mind racing with all the sites and sounds bombarding me. “So, bud, what brings you here tonight?” he asked pulling the cigar from his mouth and resting his hand on my shoulder as he began to play with my nipples. Looking down, I saw his massive piece of uncut cock was sticking in front of him. Not only a shower but a grower as the cock had to have gained another inch of girth and 2 inches in length. “You can play with it if you want, boy,” he said, flexing his abs and causing the monster to jerk forward, “It won’t bite… too much.” Tentatively, I reached out and grabbed it. Warm and thick, I could feel his pulse throbbing. Reaching back to his face he stuck the cigar back in his mouth and began to rub his hands along the front and sides of my smaller body. “Fuck that feels good,” I sighed, as I slowly hardened with his hands feeling me up. Slowly, I began to stroke him. “And that does too, baby,” he said around the cigar with a growl, “I can think of a few more things that would be even better.” I knew instantly what he meant. Only 20 mins being here and I might actually get my wish and be fucked by a hot muscle top. My mind raced. Should I do this? Is this really what I want? Wouldn’t it be better if I took my time and dated the right guy for my first time? I received my answer when I felt the first finger begin to probe my hole. “Fuck!” I gasped, enjoying the rough feeling of his finger diving slowly into my tight hole, “Yes!” With a big grin and a nod, he pulled his finger out and led me upstairs. I followed him as he climbed the stairs, my attention switching my the sudden change in sound and atmosphere from the stead soft thump of a club music to one of sounds of muffled moans of guys getting fucked. My ass instinctively clenched at the thought of my own virgin hole being stretched and filled as I followed Garrett down the long hall, a thick cloud of cigar smoke trailing behind him. Grabbing his key, Garrett opened one of the doors and we both stepped in. I followed behind him and quickly he gently pushed me back onto the bed. I let out a gasp as I fell back and bounced slightly on the mattress. I laid in a momentary daze as he lifted up my towel, and in one quick motion swallowed my 6in dick deep into his throat. “HOLY SHIT!” I blurted out as his throat muscles massaged my cock, the suction making me instantly want to lift up off the bed. It felt amazing, feeling him sucking my deep, his fingers wrapping around my balls and massaging them. I laid back and enjoyed to skilled top suck me for several minutes when he suddenly pulled off, my building orgasm going away from the sudden cold air hitting my wet, throbbing member. I lifted my head up and went to ask why he stopped when I saw him take a deep draw on his cigar. Blowing the smoke back in my face, he began rubbing my hole with his thumb. “Gotta stretch and lube you up,” he said, before spitting on my hole and shoving the thumb in, “Mind if I rim you and you hold my gar?” “Uh, well….” I said, pleasantly shocked. I had read about getting rimmed, but I never imagined would actually get to be rimmed. “I haven’t ever been rimmed before. I’m open to trying it though…” I said, grabbing the cigar from him tentatively. “Mind keeping it lit for me?” Garrett asked, spitting a second time on my hole and quickly adding a second thumb. I let out a slight moan as I felt the two large digits pull open my hole slightly further. Unable to form words at the moment I only nodded and laid back, bending my knees up and spreading them open, giving him more access. Looking at the cigar in my hand, I watched some of the smoke drift out of both ends before finally sticking it in my mouth. Cautiously, I stuck it in my mouth and started to puff on it. It tasted a lot different than what I expected, and nothing like how it smelled. Peppery, with a bit of a chocolate taste, and almost a cut grass. Aiming to keep the top now at my hole happy, I continued to smoke it as I felt him slowly massage my opening. I inhaled sharply when his fingers pulled out and I felt his hot, wet tongue start to lap at my cunt. The sensation felt AMAZING! I drew harder on the cigar in my mouth as he lifted his head up. “Fucking tasty hole boy!” Garret said, before diving back in. For several minutes I laid back, enjoying the rim job I was getting, Garrett’s tongue stabbing at my tight anus. After a few minutes, I felt my ass slowly open up under the constant assault of his tongue and fingers. Standing up over me, he pulled the cigar out of my mouth. “Damn bud,” he said, taking a deep inhale, “You’ve got the ass of a fucking virgin!” Looking down I blushed, I looked down, embarrassed. “Wait…” he said, noticing how uncomfortable I was becoming. “You’ve never been fucked before?” “N-no… sorry…” I said, pulling the towel that had came untied from my waist back around me. I waited for him to start laughing at me, or worse, to be kicked out of his room. However, he instead ran his spit-slicked thumb along the side of my face before lifting my chin upwards. “Why are you sorry?” he said exhaling another cloud of smoke in my face, “It’s fucking hot I get to be the one to bust your cherry!” With a smile, he moved his thumb to my bottom lip, urging it open. “Get my dick hard with your mouth babe, I want to mount that tight virgin hole and claim it.” I scooted over to the edge of the bed and sat up, bring my face perfectly level with his semi-hard monster. I slowly licked the head, surprised at how warm the PA at the tip of his cock was. Suddenly, he placed his hand on the back of my head, and my mouth enveloped his growing member. Slowly I began to suck, running my tongue along the bottom of his cock as I pulled back. “Fuck yeah, you’re a natural,” Garrett replied, his hand running through my hair tenderly. For the next few minutes, we continued, before he finally spoke. “That's it boy, suck on that nice piece of meat. Get it nice and wet for what’s coming!” Urged on by the hot, muscled man standing above me, I forced his cock deeper into my mouth, enjoying the feeling and taste of his dripping, uncut cock sliding around on my tongue, my own cock throbbing in anticipation. I moan as I felt him place his hand on the back of my head, urging me even deeper down on his cock. Forcing myself not to gag from its massive size, I let him slowly rape my mouth as he let out a content sigh. Finally, he pulled out and let me catch my breath. “Fuck! I need in that hole!” he growled, grabbing one of the condoms from next to me before letting out a frustrated sigh. I looked up at him, wondering what had him so mad. “The one time I need to put one on, and they’re all medium.” I watched as he slowly opened the packet and slowly unrolled the condom, barely able to roll it down his dick before it finally reached the end halfway down. Looking at me, he smiled. “Damn this fucker is tight. You sure you want to take this monster?” he asked, grinning at me before continuing, “Because once I start, I’m not stopping. Last chance.” Laying back, I pulled my knees to my chest and said softly, “Please fuck my hole.”

I was new here in town. I needed to get a physical exam for my new job so I asked around and one of my neighbors recommended I go see Dr. Kendrick, over on 10th. I called to make an appointment and a few days later I headed over there. Dr. K had an office right there in his home, a cozy-looking house set back from the street. Inside the front door was a small waiting area. A sign on the wall said to take a seat until I was called. After a few minutes a door opened. First, a young man about my age came out and hurried for the front door. I remember that his face was red and sweaty. Maybe he had seen the doctor because he had a fever. Next, Dr. K stepped into the waiting room and said, "You must be Larry. Larry Hicks? Come on into my exam room." I followed him into a bigger room. This one had a desk, a couple of chairs, cabinets and, in the middle of the floor, was a medical exam table. "Why don't you start getting undressed while we talk? You can leave your boxers and shirt on for now." So, I took off my socks and shoes along with my trousers, shirt and underwear and put them on one of the chairs. "Hop up on the table," he said, and tell me what I can do for you." As I explained my reason for the appointment he began making notes of our conversation. He asked my age, which was 19, and inquired about my medical and family history. All the while he poked and prodded me, working his way through the exam. Eventually the questions turned more personal. "So, are you sexually active, Larry?" I reddened a bit and said, "Not much. I've only done it a couple of times." "That's not a problem," he said. "Now...when you think about having sex...you know, when you get horny...do you mainly think of having sex with women or having sex with men?" Seeing the shocked expression on my face, he continued, "It makes no difference to me, young man. I just need to get a complete picture of your situation." "I don't know," I said, "I guess maybe I'm gay. I've only done it with two guys." "Well, if you're unsure, we can certainly help you figure that out. Do you like having your penis sucked?" I nodded. "Do you like it when a man puts his organ in your mouth? Do you like to pleasure him? Do you like him to ejaculate in your mouth? And do you swallow his semen?" Guiltily, I nodded "yes" to each question. "Well, at this point, I think it's safe to say that you are an homosexual." I blushed. "Now, as for anal sex...are you the insertive partner?" He glanced at me. "Hmmm! No! Probably not! So, you're the receptive partner, right?" My cheeks burned bright red and I could only look at the floor. So...you are what's commonly known as...."a bottom. In plain words...you accommodate the needs of other men. Excellent!" He smiled warmly! "Let's move on! Do you have any Sexually Transmitted Diseases? Herpes? Syphilis?" "No," I stammered. "Are you HIV-negative?" "Yes! I mean...I guess so." "Well," he said, "we have to be sure. We'll get you tested for everything. Then I can give you a clean bill of health." He did the pinprick and drew some blood. "Larry, I'm running a little behind. While we're waiting for your results, I'm going to put you in the next room. Bring your stuff. You can leave your boxers and shirt on for now." He ushered me through a doorway into the next room. "This actually is my bedroom," he said, and indeed, there was a large bed situated against one wall. "I use this as a second exam room when it gets busy. It's quiet and private. Have a seat there on the bed and make yourself comfortable. Mrs. Shaw is just stopping by to get her flu shot. It won't take long. I'll be back in about 10 minutes." He retreated to the first exam room and closed the door behind him. I sat down at the base of the bed and began to wait. In a few moments, I heard another patient enter the room next door and I could hear the murmur of their conversation. A few minutes later I could hear Mrs. Shaw departing. After a few more minutes, Dr. K came back into the bedroom. "Good news!" he said. "You're completely healthy. Your HIV test was negative. I hope you're not disappointed?" I was a bit confused. "What did you say?" He smiled back at me. "Oh, nothing...let's finish up the exam. You seemed a little unsure about your sexuality. You know...your preferences and needs. So, let's find out!" With that, he reached out and placed his palm against my chest as I sat there at the end of the bed. He pushed firmly, causing me to lie back on the bed cover. "I want to check your responses," he said as he began unbuttoning my shirt. When he was finished, the shirt fell open, exposing my chest and stomach. Without any warning, he reached out with both hands and used his fingers to firmly grasp my nipples. As he gave them a short but sharp twist, I moaned involuntarily, "Uhnh!" and my mouth remained open in an O-shape. My body reacted strangely in other ways as well. My back arched, pushing my chest towards the doctor's hands. Also, my knees jerked, pulling apart and upward towards my chest a bit. Dr. K stepped smoothly into the gap between my legs, thereby preventing them from closing. Dr. K's smile got bigger. "Well, well! That's interesting." He twisted the flesh trapped between his fingers once again and said, "When I apply pressure HERE, look what happens. Your legs spread apart and your mouth opens wide." And that's just what happened. As my legs parted, he pressed even closer to me. He leaned forward and placed his right hand on my face. Two fingers aggressively entered my mouth and started exploring. "This is VERY NICE," he said. "Even better than I had hoped for." I could only try to gurgle a response. Dr. K's voice remained kindly but his eyes seemed to harden somewhat as he looked down at me. "Raise your hips, Larry! Come on...haven't got all day! Let's get these off you." With that, I felt his free hand tug on my boxers. They slid off my hips and down my legs, finally brushing past my toes as they fell away to the floor. "There...that's better! You won't be needing them for a while." His fingers continued their rough invasion of my mouth and I felt his other hand cup my balls. He used his thumb to stroke the head of my dick in a circular motion. I response to his ministrations, I could feel my cock begin to lengthen and swell. "Your reflexes have proven exceptional," he announced. "Can you tell that your penis is becoming erect? And your nipples! My Lord,...we've already seen how responsive to stimulation they are." As if to prove the point, his hands descended on my nipples again, his fingers pincering them forcefully. I was helpless as my mouth opened again and my legs twitched further apart. Now, THREE fingers were jammed into my gaping mouth. "We've conclusively established that your sexual responses are HOMOSEXUAL! Now we should discuss your HIV status. I know that you tested negative this time, but it's well known that many gay men secretly regret being negative. For many reasons, every day, men like you choose to become HIV-positive. I imagine that you must have given it thought, haven't you?" With his digits swirling around inside my mouth, only garbled noises came out in response. "That's what I thought," he continued, as if I had somehow agreed with him. "Let's help you decide! Let's say you were gay...which you are. And you were a submissive bottom...which apparently you are. And your status is negative...which it is. And you desperately wanted to be HIV-positive instead." He now looked at me. "Is that right?" "Anngh! Gruhhh! Mmmpph!" He looked at me quizzically. "Does that mean, 'Yes'?" I tried to lurch upright, but his hand on my face kept me pinned to the bed. The doctor nodded, "See! I knew that deep down, you might want that for yourself. The question is...what can we do about it? Hmmm?" He stared at me. His eyes didn't seem very friendly any more. In fact, I felt like the doomed bird transfixed by the serpent's gaze. "Let's figure this out together. Here's a test for you. I just want you to answer honestly. Nobody's judging you here, ok?" Although the alarms in my head hadn't really stopped, I nodded my head. "Good! SO, let's say you come to me seeking my advice about becoming HIV-positive. I might ask you the following: "If you were to be helped in converting to a positive status, would you want to be infected, or 'assisted' if you prefer that word, by one man alone...or would you prefer to be infected by several men at once? Of course...you'd be in a sling for comfort." I was lying on the bed, unable to speak intelligibly and unable to sit up. My shoulders drooped in resignation. Maybe I should just play his game and see what happened. I gently prodded his fingers with my tongue. He got the hint and withdrew them so I could be understood. "I....I....," I whispered. He asked, "What?" As he leaned closer, his fingers gave each nipple a sharp little pinch. I gasped, "one man...ONE MAN!" He squeezed HARDER! "Say it ALL!" he commanded. Utterly under his control, I moaned, "I...I'd want...ONE MAN...one man to INFECT ME!" "I was hoping that's what you'd say. That's all you had to do, Larry...just ask!" I could hear his free hand fumbling with his belt. His other hand left my mouth and I heard the sound of a zipper being lowered followed by the whisper of his pants as he pushed them down. He cupped my balls again and my dick, no longer neglected, stiffened rapidly. Dr. K leaned over and covered my mouth with his. His tongue entered me, controlled me. "You don't have to be afraid, Larry! I'm going to take care of you. We're going to do this the right way, baby. His mouth trailed down my chest and belly. Upon reaching my cock, he engulfed it with his lips and began sucking up and down my shaft. Heavenly! Too quickly, he broke free and brought his face back up to mine. "You know...I've given many guys like you their first fuck...right here on this bed. And I given many guys their first condomless fuck...right here on this bed. In fact, I've given many men...men just like you, Larry... their first POZZING...right here on this bed! Pozzing...that means taking a man that is HIV-negative and introducing the active virus into his system, turning him HIV-positive. It's a privilege to be the one that helped you to understand your need to convert to positive like so many have done before you." He continued,"Nothing could be simpler, more natural and more normal than for two men to share their fluids like this, in order for the negative one to convert. Let me show you. "Open your mouth!" I didn't have a choice because his fingernails scratched across my nipples, making my mouth open. He leaned over me and slowly spit a few long gobs of saliva into my waiting orifice. "Now...Taste it!" I ran my tongue through his spit, letting his juices mingle with mine. "And Swallow it!" he ordered. I meekly complied. "See how natural that was?" I could feel the head of his dick bobbing around, pushing into my ball sac, leaving a trail of gooey precum wherever it touched. Suddenly, I felt warm liquid washing over my belly, running back down over my cock and balls onto the bed. "See, Baby! See how natural that is? How good my piss feels on you? I'm sharing that with you as well." My mind reeled with the thought that, by sharing his fluids, he was merging himself, his very DNA with me. ""The best comes last!" he hissed. His penis zeroed in on my hole. The head, still leaking precum, nudged a bare half inch into me, and stopped. "There!" he whispered. "I'm inside you and I've already left a tiny bit of fluid behind. A little HIV is already growing inside you. Do you want MORE?" All I could do was whimper! "You have to SAY IT!" he said. "YES!...I want more!" With that, he eased in and started up a slow steady pistoning motion. He growled, "You want my HIV? You want me to fuck my HIV into your neg pussy? SAY IT!" All the while his thrusts picked up speed and power. My voice got louder. "YES! Fuck me with your HIV! Make me positive! POZ ME!!" By now, he was banging into me furiously. "I want you to remember that someday....someday when you have AIDS...that it's MY AIDS inside you. I'm the one that infected you, put my virus in you. And YOU...you did what a Poz Bottom was supposed to do...you just SPREAD YOUR LEGS and BEGGED ME FOR IT!" He yelled as he began to blast his viral sperm deep within me. I could almost fell the bug attaching itself to my sensitive rectal walls, starting to grow. Dr. K rolled off of me and stood up. He bent over and gave my ass a loud smack. "I've probably knocked you up. I'm pretty potent because I don't take any HIV medications and my viral levels are always very high. Just to be safe, let's give you an appointment in 3 months so you can come in and get tested. My promise is that I'll keep fucking you until my virus has claimed you.

This is a side-project that goes along with my other story. However, it can easily be read on its own. Be warned it will have a similar set up to another story on here, but only in setting up the setup of the plot. Let me know what you think down in the comments! ---- Part 1 “That's it boy, suck on that nice piece of meat. Get it nice and wet for what’s coming!” Urged on by the hot, muscled man standing above me, I forced his cock deeper into my mouth, enjoying the feeling and taste of his dripping, uncut cock sliding around on my tongue, my own cock throbbing in anticipation. I moan as I felt him place his hand on the back of my head, urging me even deeper down on his cock. Forcing myself not to gag from its massive size, I let him slowly rape my mouth as he let out a content sigh. Soon I'd finally get what I fantasized and dreamed of. A huge cock shooting a thick load deep up my virgin ass. — It was hard to believe that that morning I was just a young, 18-year-old virgin. I knew from a young age that I was gay; girls never even blipped on my radar, and I always found myself fantasizing about some of the hotter guys in my class kissing me and feeling me up. However, I never acted on it. My family had moved to our small, midwestern town when I was in 6th grade, leaving me friendless. My former best friend was over 1000 miles away on the east coast, as well as everyone I knew growing up. I hadn’t been popular, but I was at least well-liked by nearly everyone. In my new school, I was an outcast… quiet, shy, too smart for the popular crowd and disliked because I actually enjoyed being at school. By the time I hit my senior year, I knew I wanted to be like the guys I saw in the porn I found online. A slut, taking cock from multiple guys until shooting all over myself. My only friends were a few of the nerdier, but in my opinion, much cooler girls who shared some of my same interests in different books and shows at the time. Nobody, however, knew my secret… that I wanted nothing more than to lose my virginity to a hot top. This obviously didn’t stop me from being made fun of, with being called things like fag or queer by the hotter, popular jocks in the in-crowd. Rationally, I knew it was only to get a rise out me, but a part of me always worried they knew I was what I secretly wanted to be. By the end of my senior year, I couldn’t take it any longer. I was tired of jacking off and pretending I was getting fucked by some hot, muscled guy as I fingered myself to climax in my hand, licking my hand clean to keep my secret from my thankfully more liberal parents and 5 sisters. I decided to finally lose my virginity and started to secretly hatch out a plan. Having gotten a few letters from some prospective colleges from the large city about 3 hours away, I planned to go and look at a few, staying at my distant cousin’s apartment near one of the campus. Knowing he wouldn’t care if I was there or not, I figured I could make my parents believe my half-lie. I would look at the school that week, during spring break at my school, and during the weekend I would go to a gay bathhouse I had read about in some of my lurkings online. It would be a week after 18th birthday, so I would finally be legal to enter. And maybe, just maybe, I would find someone to help me fulfill my wish of losing my “cherry.” — The week came quickly when my parents sat me down, my bag already around my shoulders and my keys to the small Honda my parent’s bought me in my hands. I had hoped to sneak out with a quick goodbye. “Buddy,” my father, still in his lab coat from work at the local hospital, “We need to have a talk.” SHIT! I thought to myself, THEY KNOW. FUCK!!! “Uh… yeah, dad?” I said, trying not to let the fear in my mind crack into my voice. My plan was ruined, I was sure of it. The tone of his voice and the look on my mother’s face said it all. “Your mother and I have talked… we know you’re a man now, but… we’re concerned. You know we love you and only want what is best and…” “Oh Robert!” my mother sighed, her thick accent coming through as she crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes at my dad, “Shit or get off a pie.” “Pot… mom… it’s pot…. it’s slang for toilet…” I said, smiling slightly at her mistranslation. Thirty years and she STILL got idioms wrong. I was beginning to think it may be intentional. “I like mine better,” she huffed before continuing, before glaring at my father, “We know you are going to college soon. Tell him.” Pulling a pile of condoms and a handful of pamphlet out of his coat, he held them out to me. “You need protection. We know things happen at colleges… and we don’t want you coming back and trapped with a baby on the way with some girl, or something like HPV or herpes…” my dad blurted out, rubbing his hand on his coat as he sat back on the couch. “Uh….” was my only reply. I felt my cheeks start to burn. My parents thought I was going to get some girl pregnant. “Just take them and be careful. And have fun. We love you very much,” my mom replied with a slight nod. “And don’t trust a girl just because she is on the pill. She could be on an antibiotic, or could be asymptomatic or…” my dad replied, refusing to meet my eyes as he blurted out everything. “Thanks… I guess…” I said slowly, grabbing them with a slight grimace, “You guys know…. I learned about most of this from health class… right…? And I really am just going to check out a few schools. I’ll call and everything if you want…” “Just go have fun my little zaychik. Call when you get there so I know you are okay,” my mom replied, shooing me away. — 3 hours later, and thankfully over a hundred miles from my family, I sat my bag down in the small living room of my cousin’s apartment, glad he was willing to let me stay there while he and his friends went to spring break somewhere out east. It’s Friday night, and I’m ready to finally get down to business. Pulling out a tight pair of jeans I had outgrown the previous year, and a similarly fitting t-shirt, I changed quickly and looked up the directions and information I had written earlier and made my way to the bar where the bathhouse was located. Arriving, I quickly made my way to where the entrance was at the back and walked up to the small window, much like the ones I had seen in movies that they had at a seedy motel. I rang the bell and out from the back room came one of the hottest guys I had ever seen. Easily over 6ft, he had piercing grey eyes, long thick blonde hair, and a large piercing in his nose. He was wearing a tight-fitting wife beater that nearly covered his well-muscled chest and abs, and black leather pants that clung to his body, leaving nothing to the imagination. My eyes were quickly drawn to his pert ass and large bulge. A heavy five’o’clock shadow covered his face, which reminded me of an extremely hot bad boy version of Thor for some reason. Even his voice made me melt, gravely and deep. “Can I help you, boy? The bathroom is back in the other side of the bar,“ he said, pointing back towards the bar, looking up and down my body before smiling, “Unless you see something you like?” Flustered, I blushed and shook my head. “No… um…. I’m here to… I mean….” I said, suddenly unable to form words. “Look, no offense kid, but you got to be at least 18 to even be in the bar. You gotta be… what? 15? 16 tops?” Shaking my head no, I pulled out my wallet and pulled out my ID, sliding it under the glass. “No, sir… I’m… I’m 18,” I said with a gulp, “See… my birthday was last week.” “Sir, huh? First time to the baths then, huh?” he asked, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes, deftly lighting one and blowing the smoke at the glass. “Uh, yeah… I… it’s that obvious huh?” I replied. “You’re a cute fucker. They are going to be all over you!” he said with a smile, the cigarette dangling in his mouth., “Room or locker?” “Oh… um….” I replied, realizing that I had no idea what to do. “I don’t really know which one…” “Hot piece like you will definitely get invited into a room in no time,” he said, “I’d go with a locker.” I nodded as he continued. “Normally the fee is $40 to get in, full $100 for a room, but seeing as you just had your birthday, and it’s your first time… how about $20?” he said, turning around and grabbing a towel and a key. Reaching into my wallet, I pulled out the two bills, left over from my gifts the week before. “Thanks…” “Don’t mention it. We all have our first times,” he said with a smile, “Maybe you’ll still be around later when I get off. Would like to help show you the ropes.” Smiling back, I entered the entrance, the door buzzing as he pressed a small button under the counter in front of him. — Looking around, I took in the sites, as dozens of naked men walked around, some with towels and others in various states of undress. I quickly found my locker, and with a deep breath, I quickly undressed. Throwing the towel around my now naked body, I grabbed a few condoms from my jean pocket, tucking them in between my skin and the cloth. Taking another look around, I felt like a fish out of water. 18, skinny with just a small amount of lean muscle on my frame. Black hair, blue eyes, and an average sized uncut cock were all I had to offer. And around me was every possible type of hot character from every gay porn I ever saw. There’s no way anyone would be interested in someone like me, I thought to myself as pulled the towel even closer. And that’s when I saw HIM. 6ft tall, heavily muscled, with a head full of thick brown hair. A face like a Greek statue, which sported a goatee and mustache. Nipple piercings and a thick hairy chest. And a what looked to be an uncut 10-incher with what looked to be a large PA peaking out from under the small towel that barely covered him, framed by a pair of low hanging bull balls. Tattoos all over his body. The man looked like sex walking. A bad boy who would ravage my hole if given the chance. Something straight out of the hottest porn. AND HE’S WALKING UP TO ME! I thought in a panic. I felt myself start to blush as he eyed me up and down, my cheeks burning even hotter as I saw his cock stir under the towel. “I’m Garrett.” he said, stopping in front of me and holding his hand out, “You must be new here.” “Jeez… it’s that obvious, huh?” I said, biting my lip as I stared at his hand, almost afraid. I looked around, lost. He waved his hand slightly in front of me drawing my attention back to him. “And you are?” I panicked for a second, thinking maybe I should make up a name before realizing that even if he knew my name, nobody around here would know me. Pulling up the courage, I shook his hand and replied. “Yurik… uh… nice to meet you…” I said, trying desperately to sound cool as my voice threatened to break as I suddenly started to spout a massive flow of words, “My mom is from Russia and that why I have a weird name. It’s-it’s my first time. I’ve never done this before, and I didn’t expect to actually find someone so hot to actually talk to me, especially you. Not with how I look. And… and… and I…. should really shut up now…” He let out a soft laugh as he let go of my hand before slowly rubbing his hand up and down my arm while looking at my smaller body. “Dude, calm down. You got nothing to worry about. Fucking sexy thing like you is a rare find here,” he said in a low, calm voice and his fingers traced down my chest and ran over my left nipple, causing to bead up instantly. I fought back a moan and looked up at him in silence. “Need someone to show you around? I would love nothing better than to show you around. Make all these fuckers here jealous,” he asked, his smile growing bigger as he saw what his touching me was doing. I slowly nodded and smiled nervously as his hand wrapped around my shoulder and he pulled me closer. “Mind if we stop by my locker first?” he asked as I felt him slowly reach down and grab my ass under the towel. Fuck, that feels so good, I thought to myself as he slowly ran his fingers through my crack, teasing the hair near my hole. “As long as you keep doing that!” I replied with a moan. “Oh, I plan on doing much much more…” he replied, and we started walking, drawing the attention from a few guys. We came to his locker and I stood there quietly as he grabbed his key and opened the door. Pulling out a large leather pouch from his shirt pocket, as well as a brown glass bottle. I knew instantly they were poppers, which I had read about and seen in various sites online. I wanted to try them, and it looked like I might get my chance with this walking sex god. I was however slightly shocked when he pulled out a large, black and green cigar and stuck it in his mouth. Some of the guys in my school smoked them when there were no adults around, looking somewhat goofy to me. But this man looked even hotter somehow with it firmly in his jaw. Looking at me suddenly, he stopped and pulled the stick out of his mouth. “Mind if I smoke?” he asked, looking directly at me as he waited for my reply. “Oh, uh… no, go ahead,” I said, my cock now throbbing under my towel at full hardness, my face still blazing red. With a smile, he pulled out the lighter from the same pouch and lit it. Drawing the flame to the end, he stuck the cigar back in his mouth and brought it to life, taking a deep drawn in before blowing it straight up in the air. Quickly enough he put everything back into the locker and wrapped his arm around my waist and we set off into the bathhouse.

Memories of Summer. Looking out the window at the rain and seeing the expanse of grey outside. Grey sky, grey buildings. Even the people hunched over for protection and hurrying past seem grey. I can't help but let my mind wander to brighter days and inevitably I feel my cock swelling and my hand idly drifts down to grip myself as I let my thoughts go back to summer. It was hot. Which here is noteworthy in itself, but today was the hottest I could remember. The kind of heat which no matter what you do always leaves you prickled with sweat. Even just moving from room to room felt like hard work. Still, things to be done, places to go and all that. Fuck that! I had just finished showering after a workout at home and at some point the shower became longer as I unconsciously began cleaning myself very thoroughly as if I already knew the direction the day was heading. As I towelled off I could already feel sweat beginning to bead across my shoulders and forehead and I came to the conclusion that today would be an outdoors day. No work until tomorrow and anything that needed doing around the house could damn well wait. Today was going to be for me. Returning to my room I grabbed a light linen shirt and matching trousers. Lightweight and easy movement for the weather. Dropping those onto the bed and reaching for my underwear drawer I decided against socks but grabbed a jock and slipped that on. Taking a brief look in the mirror and enjoying the way my arse was framed by the straps, I dressed and grabbed a pair of walking sandals. Before leaving the room I quickly grabbed a small bottle of lube and bottle of poppers and slipped them into my pocket. Be prepared I've always believed. Grabbing my keys I opened the door on the day and the full force of the heat hit me in the face like a wall. Damn, I hadn't realised how well my house had been blocking the temperature outside. I headed for the car and cranked he a.c to full and stood with the door open for a few minutes just so I could actually sit in the drivers seat and be able leave with some skin on my back. Next time use the garage I thought to myself as I climbed in and headed for the road. I'm quite lucky in that where I live is still relatively rural but close enough to the city that everything I want is in easy reach. Today I wanted green spaces, preferably with secluded areas, and the potential for long isolated walking. I knew just the pace. About 20 minutes later I pulled into the car park and was a little downbeat to see how easy it was to find a space. I had hoped it would be busier. Still it was early yet and I didn't plan on leaving anytime soon. I grabbed a bottle of water from the car and locked it down then headed to the first pathway of my day of leisure. I chose this place because it has a valley walk alongside a river, cool in the heat, wonderful scenery and a reputation for what can go on in the bushes. Miles and miles of woodland to choose from interspersed with wide open spaces. Having been here on several previous occasions I knew where the popular haunts were but was in no hurry to scan each. So I carried on walking and enjoying being in the open air. After a short while I saw a bench facing the river and decided I would sit for a bit and watch the world go by. Or at least let the day catch up with me. So I sat, sipped my water and watched the river flow lazily in front of me reflecting the few light clouds that were scudding by, just as lazily, above. I think I must have been in a trance because I heard the crunch of gravel on the path as someone walked in front of me. I hadn't heard their approach at all. I looked up startled from my daydream state and saw him. 30's, cropped hair, very fit. He was in a white vest top, matching jogging bottoms and trainers. I would have figured him for a runner but he was walking slowly. Clearly enjoying the day in his own way. In any other situation I might have unkindly put him in the category of guys who you don't know if they are going to mug you or fuck you. But he just walked on by and I glanced him over letting split second fantasies formulate as he passed. As he neared a bend in the path about 50 metres down from my seat I nearly choked on my water as he stopped and glanced back at me before disappearing from view. I'm not necessarily a master of these things but some signals you just can't miss. Whether it was a combination of the guy and the heat and the situation I don't know? I was hard from the moment I stood to the moment I reached the corner where I lost sight of him. I was certainly heading into whatever was around that bend willingly. As I reached the point in the path he had looked back at me I could see some considerable way down the path ahead and it was empty. "What the fuck?" I muttered to myself. Confusion grew as I looked around. Was he just fooling? Had I conjured the guy from my dreamlike state earlier? Just as I was about to give up and return to my seat I saw to the left an overgrown path that led deeper into the woods. Ok then, back in business. I guessed this was the route he had taken and I followed without a second thought. Being the height of Summer everything was at its lushest and greenest. The growth was full and the air was rich with that strong earthy organic smell you only get in thick woodland. As I pressed on under the trees I realised how much darker it was. Possibly I had become accustomed to the bright sun on the path, but in here it was like another world. The humidity was higher too, I could feel myself sheen in sweat as I walked. Glad for the light clothing I had chosen I kept on hoping to catch sight of my mystery man. I couldn't see any sign. I decided to just follow the most obvious pathway and hope but I couldn't deny my spirits dropped when he wasn't easily apparent. Moving through the dusk light world beneath the trees I came to what I can only describe as a thicket within the woods. A denser group of trees that seemed to be in a circle almost making a room. Intrigued I stepped in through one of the wider openings to have a better look. My curiosity almost outweighed my libido at this point. The trees must have been planted like this, no way this was a natural occurrence at least not that I could see. Remarkable though it was it didn't help me with my search but it did provide another opportunity. I had been drinking water pretty much constantly since I left the house so I put the trees to use that men have always put them too. It felt good. So good in fact I didn't just shake I let my hand slide up and down my rapidly hardening cock feeling the freedom of being outside but unseen. I hadn't resigned myself to simply jerking off it was just that it felt right to enjoy myself a little before I returned to the pathways and my search. Reaching into my pocket I pulled out the bottle of poppers and unscrewing the lid I took two deep hits. Letting the warm glow flow through me I sealed the bottle and felt my inhibitions float away. With one hand back on my cock my other hand unfastened my shirt and I began pinching and twisting my nipples letting the pleasure build and build. "Fucking jackpot! I knew I wasn't wrong about you." In my popper buzz and current state of arousal to say I was stunned by this is an understatement. I spun around and saw him again. There with me in this wooded shrine. Me shirt open, hand still on my cock not knowing which way was up. I stared at him. He was even more gorgeous up close. Dark eyes, a spray of stubble over his strong jawline and a grin that could easily become a sneer. This was someone who knew how good they looked. "Don't panic, " he laughed, "Anyone in these woods is here for the same thing right?" With that he lowered the front of his bottoms and out sprung eight inches of thick, solid meat. His foreskin was partly back and the tip was already moist with precum. He stroked it a couple of times and I swear it got harder. I must have licked my lips. In fact I know I did because he laughed and said, "Like what you see then?" I just dumbly nodded and did what I had been wanting to do since I first set eyes on this stud. I fell to my knees and took hold of his thick cock and began kissing and licking that shaft. Fuck he was so hard. I don't think I've ever held a more solid cock in my life and more importantly he seemed more than happy to just let me enjoy it with my lips and tongue. I worshipped every inch of that dick, tasting the mix of precum and sweat that was now all over his length. I licked and teased his balls and worked my way up to his tip. Pulling his foreskin back and running my tongue all over that knob, stroking his hardness as I made love to it with my mouth. I was in cocksucker heaven. "Fuck me, I never would have pegged you as a bottom. You are though aren't you? A good fucking slut!" I never talk with my mouth full but I moaned in assent around his beautiful cock as I took him as deep as I could. He put his hands on my head, the first time he had touched me, and fucked my mouth for a few strokes before pulling out and tilting my head back. Leaning over me he looked into my eyes then spat into my open mouth. Smiling at me he pushed his cock back between my lips and said, "Just testing the waters mate, wanted to see what kind of slut you are." I could only moan in pleasure as a shiver ran through me. This was already more than I hoped the day would bring me. Whilst I sucked him, or rather he fucked my face I slipped my shirt off and managed to slide my trousers down revealing my jock to him. He whistled but didn't comment beyond the noises he was making while enjoying the way my tongue was washing over his cock. When I reached for my poppers he grabbed the bottle from me and took control even more. He held them for me and made me take several hits as I bobbed on his rock hard meat. It didn't take long before I was spinning out in lust. Gagging on his cock as he pushed me to my limit and soaking him in spit he kept me going for some time. Always when I seemed to regain a little focus he made me take another hit. Pulling his cock from my mouth he told me to lose my trousers which I did so easily. My sandals and trousers joined my shirt on the floor leaving me in just a jock. Exposed, and so fucking lost on poppers. Easy prey for the wolf in the woods. "Turn around and let me see that arse slut!" It was a command and I obeyed without hesitation. "Fucking nice." Was all he said as his hands worked over me, kneading my flesh, spreading me. I just moaned like the slut he kept calling me and pushed my arse back for him to play with more. "Nice arse like that needs to be fucked doesn't it?" I could only manage to whisper, "Oh God!" Knowing that I would do pretty much anything this man said. He spat on my hole and worked his fingers into me. Two fingers straight away with only spit to lube the way. He worked them into me for about a minute before he pulled them out and made me suck them. "Good to see you keep yourself clean too." Then I felt him lean over my back pressing his whole body against me. I could feel that hot prick nestle between my arse cheeks and he started rubbing himself back and forwards. Reaching around me he held the popper to my nose again and made me take hits. One. Two. Three. Four. Oh fuck I was lost and somehow I knew it. When he started speaking I already knew how this would end. "I really want to fuck this sweet arsehole. Want you to feel my hard cock all the way up inside you like I know you want. But I don't have any rubbers. We can play in all sorts of ways and I can even tease you with the tip if you like but we really shouldn't fuck." As he said this he was rubbing his precum slicked dick up and down between my cheeks, teasing it over my hole. Pressing to it then sliding away. I was a moaning wreck. Flexing my hips to his movements to try and increase the contact and make every touch of his cockhead last longer. "You really want it don't you? You want this dick in you don't you slut?" I don't think I was even capable of speech by this point but I could nod and moan in delirious pleasure. "Well maybe just the tip is ok, it won't hurt if I just put the tip in you for a bit." I managed to raise my head a little and point to where my trousers were, "lube." It was all I could muster but he put my hands back on the branch in front of me and laughed. "With all the poppers you've had my precum and spit will be more than enough for you slut." With that I felt pressure on my arsehole and then the glorious sensation of thick cockhead opening me up. I pushed back, I always push back, but he held my hips and just left the tip resting in my hole. Reaching around me he began twisting my nipples and making sure my popper high stayed topped up. Here I was out of my mind and naked in the woods with a complete stranger who had his raw cock teasing my hole. I had never been hornier. The back of my brain knew this was insane, that I should try to get myself together, but it was no use. Lust and poppers always wins. As he pulled my nipples I couldn't help but arch my back and flex my hips. This naturally started me bucking on his cock and working him deeper and deeper into my arse. Eventually he whispered in my ear, "Balls deep in you slut, I guess you really wanted this after all." I didn't think it had ever been in doubt and it took me a while to realise he meant that I was taking him bare. My hole was so full and I felt so complete bent over in that place. Then he started fucking me. It started slow. His hips rocking back and forth slapping into my arse cheeks as he moved. I moaned in approval at he friction, the pressure inside me. I pressed back as he pressed forward. Then he was speeding up. Pushing down on my shoulders making me arch my back, letting him penetrate me deeper with his raw fuck tool. Pretty soon he was slamming into me with long deliberate strokes and I was loving it. How could I not? The pleasure was too much , my own untouched cock had been leaking so much fuck juice since he started fucking me, I needed this. Somehow despite his thrusts he was still making me take poppers as he fucked me and keeping up a litany of fuck talk in my ear. All the while his thick cock was ruining me in the best way. "I knew you'd be a dirty fuckslut when I saw you. Knew you'd be taking my cock before the day was out. Fuck your hole feels good on my dick. Going to breed this hole so fucking good. Make you take my load all the way inside. Have another hit bitch, fucking good. I love the way you clench your fuckhole when you breathe in those fumes." For my part I was pushing myself onto every one of his thrusts and grunting in animal pleasure each and every time. I had gone beyond caring about being heard or seen all that mattered was the glorious prick buried so far inside me. I managed to croak out a few yeses and fuck me's but otherwise I had been reduced to a mindless fuck toy by this amazing fucker. "Going to shoot in you slut, you want that? Not going to let you have it unless you say." He started to long dick me at this point, long hard thrusts of every inch of his cock tearing into me and making me shout out in pleasure. "Say it bitch!" He spat at me, "Tell me how much you want this load breeding you?" I raised my head as he bounced me on his cock and stammered, "I..I...want it" "Want what slut?" "Oh God! I want your load." He fucked a few more strokes then said, "Yes thats a good bitch, you want this thick load up your arse don't you? You want me to breed your hole right? Going to knock you up with my cum you fucking slut!" He was fucking me so hard it must have given me an adrenaline shot because I couldn't stop myself from shouting out, "Fuck yes breed me! Knock me up! Make me take all your cum!" "That's it slut take it take all of my dirty cum in your fuckhole! Going to give you so much poz cum in your cunt. Take my bare cock you fucking dirty bitch!" As he shouted this he slammed his cock into me deep and reaching under me grabbed my cock and wanked my cum out of me as his own cock throbbed inside me flooding me with his toxic load. He pulled out of me and straightened his clothes. As he left he said, "Fucking lovely arse mate. I ever see you here again I'll breed you anytime." I pretty much collapsed naked to the floor, breathless and speechless. I could feel throbbing from my arse, my nipples and my cock. I was dumbfounded that I had just let that happen. I could feel some of his cum leaking from my well used hole and my own load had soaked my jock leaving undeniable proof of the pleasure I had felt. Even as I gathered my clothes together and dressed I couldn't help but repeat to myself, "I've just taken poz cum. I've just been bred." As I walked slowly back to the car I could feel my cock thickening again as I replayed my morning and I knew I would be coming back for more. The end.

Yes! As @FriendlyBottom points out, you should be getting your dick wet in between other tops, pushing those loads deeper into his hole (or eating them out, if that's your thing). Keep the momentum going in between tops and cheer them on as they pound and wreck that hole. @ErosWired is right about taking him for a test drive and @CigarBear68is spot on about a test run at a bookstore. You're not going to know if he's cumdump material unless you use him first and can test his stamina. Some bottoms are all yeah, line em up, but after 2 their hole is tender and they want to stop. He should be active, but not pushy and willing to take ANY cock from any man - whatever cock, he should be ON it. It DOES take a certain mindset to be a no-loads-refused bottom. @PERVERSATILEis spot on about degradation also being a factor! (if I'm ever in your neck of the woods, I'll be looking you up, Mr!) Many fantasize about being a total cumdump, but few of us have actually done it. I have and my hole is all the better for it! <oink>

A reader recently noticed this story had been duplicated. While I'm not sure the versions are identical, I have nevertheless merged the two threads. Hotload84 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- One of my favorites... I was 22, and working in Lewisam Hospital HIV centre as a third year medical student. I was young, blond, 11 stone, and 6 foot tall, so I got a lot of attention from the gay guys on the AIDS ward. There was one particular inpatient who always flirted with me like crazy. He was 56 years old, skinny and tanned, he was in the advanced stages of AIDS. On one particular night when I was on call, I went into his room, closing the door, and found he was still up. "Hi, John, still awake?" I asked, standing next to the bed. I was wearing just scrubs, boxer shorts and trainers with no socks on, my bulge kind of rested on the mattress as I leant forward against the bed, but I knew he wouldn't mind. "Hi, Joe, how are you?" John replied as he turned to face me, ihe process his hospital gown fell off his shoulder, showing his skinny chest, covered in grey hair. "I'm ok, but more importantly, how are you?" I asked. "Not so great. My viral load is up high again, and the KS on my leg is itching," he said, pulling his foot out from under the cover. He had a Kaposi Sarcoma on his left foot, one of the signs of advanced AIDS. It was a small brown, scaly lump, about the size of a 50p coin. I lifted his foot up and stroked the cancerous lesion. "You need some moisture on it. It's quite dry," i remarked, running my hand up his calf, feeling the similar sized cancer lump on his left shin. With one hand I stroked the KS lesion on his shin with my thumb, rubbing the lesion on his foot with the finger tips of my other hand. "Well, I'll let you sort that out for me young man," he commented, curling his toes round my fingers as I stroked his bare foot. "Is there anything else with which I can help you, John?" I asked. "Well, my cock has a problem," he replied, broadly grinning. "Oh, really. What would that be?" "It swells everytime a certain medical student comes near," he answered, out-lining his erection in his hospital gown, suggesting "I think you should lock the door and examine it," he said, lifting the edge of his gown up a bit. "John, ummm, you shouldn't get that out here..." I said as John exposing his big, heavy, hairy nuts, which I knew were full of toxic cum. "Oh, ok. I'd better lock the door if youre going to do that," I said, walking over to the door and locking it, and turning the little knob so the slits in the window went opaque. I walked back over to John's bed and sat down on the edge, slipping my shoes off and wiggling my sweaty bare toes. "At least I can go barefoot if the door is locked, I commented. "You like teasing me, don't you Joe?" John asked rhetorically. "This is just going to be a visual inspection, I said, lifting-up his gown. His fat, seven inch, uncut, veiny, tanned, poz erection lay obscenely hard along his bare thigh. "But I think I felt a lump, or maybe two lumps," he said lifting his balls up from between his thighs so his fat genitals proudly hung over his leg in front of me. I stood up, the hard floor cold on my bare feet, standing right up to the bed, my semi hard cock bulging my scrub trousers, the lump of my genitals resting on the mattress. "John, you have an amazing cock, but I'm a student here. I'm supposed to leave the room if a patient gets aroused," putting my hand on his bare foot again, rubbing his cancer lesion gently as he stroked his erection slowly. "You can just watch me wank. Anyhow, you seem to like touching my KS" John said. With that, he slid his bare foot up under my scrubs top, placing his bare sole on my bare chest under my clothes, suggesting "Take your top off." I did as he directed. Lifting my scrubs top off over my head, I stood bare foot and topless in an AIDS patient's hospital room. I put my hands on John's bare foot, lifting it up to my face as he lay naked, stroking his fat cock on the bed, and looked closely at his KS lesion, and then pressed my lips into the cancer riddled skin, kissing his bare foot right on his KS lump. "You're a nasty one, ain't ya," John asked, rubbing his big toe on my lips, pushing his sweaty toe into my mouth. I sucked down on his big toe, tongue-fucking the toe gap between his big toe and the next, proceeding to work my way down towards his little toe, thoroughly tongueing his toe gaps until all five of his toes were covered in spit. Then I kissed my way back-up his bare foot, until again I was pressing my lips into his KS lesion. "You can suck it, if you want. It'll help moisturise it,' John observed. I licked the cancerous lump, feeling the scaly texture of the lesion with my tongue. I pressed my lips round the circumference and sucked on his KS lump, sloppily sucking his cancer between my lips and into my mouth. Eventually I stopped slurping on his KS lesion, kissing his toes as he pulled his foot away, rubbing his saliva covered toes on my erection that was tenting out my scrubs trousers. "I think it's time to take these off," John said, pulling at my waist band with his toes. I assisted, pushing my trousers and boxers to my bare feet and kicked them off, standing naked in front of John as he leant forward and started to suck my cock. I held his head, curling my toes on the hospital floor as I face fucked John. The old guy deep-throated me easily. "John, I really shouldn't be doing this. I could lose my position,' i said as John pulled me onto the bed, laying me on my back and maneuvering on top of me. Our chests and cocks were pressed togther, our faces six inches apart. I leant forward and started to snog him, making out with his as we ground our cocks together. "Good boy, right decision," John said as he shoved his tongue down my throat. "But what if the nurses outside hear?" I asked as we rubbed our naked bodues together, readying ourselves for sex. "Well, we should probably do this quietly so they don't hear" John answered. Lifting my feet up onto his shoulders and kneeling between my legs, pressing his cock into my nut sack, he bent over so his face came close to mine again. "John, what are you doing?" I asked, adding "We can't fuck. Maybe some sucking, but we don't have a condom," I said as John kissed my forehead. With that, John reached over and pulled a condom out the drawer next to his bed and placed it on my chest, saying "It's there, if you want it." "What do you mean 'if I want it?'" John then kissed me on the lips as he rubbed his helmet over my ring and up and down my ass crack. "You're laying on your back, your feet up on my shoulders, on the AIDS ward in which you chose to work, having sucked the KS lesions on my foot," John replied. "So?" I asked. "So I guess you have a fetish for poz cock," John replied. With that he stuck his tongue out and pointed it to the left, so I could see another 50p sized KS lesion on his tongue, growing out of the side of his tongue half way along the shaft of it. "Is that...?' I started to ask but trailed off as I felt him lodge his helmet at my anus. "It's another lesion. Do you want to suck it?" he asked, gently putting pressure on my ass with his helmet. "I'd love to suck on it," I replied as John pressed his cock harder into me, the tip starting to seperate my ring. "I'll have to bend over to let you reach. My poz cock might slip inside a little bit," he observed, pushing his helmet into me a fraction to emphasise his point, noting "I've leaked quite a lot of poz precum on your little ass ring, so you're pretty well lubed back here," he said, rubbing his cock round my ring, pushing in a tiny bit more. "I don't care. Let me suck your tongue lesion," I replied, inviting him by widely opening my lips. John bent forward, his helmet slowly slipping into me, along with half his shaft, and stuck his tongue in my mouth. I knew his poisenous cock was buried in my guts, but all I could think about was sucking on that lump on his tongue and how nasty and kinky and horny that was. Then John pushed his cock deeper into my body. Then it realized: I was being penetrated bareback by a very toxic cock. I stopped sucking and stared in his eyes. "You like sucking my lesion? Do you want my raw cock up you deeper or should I pull out?" he asked. "Put your cock balls-deep inside me," I answered, pulling him back down and sucking on his tongue again. As directed, he slid in, balls-deep, grinding his cock into me. He slid out again, removing his tongue from my mouth. "More?" he asked. "Fuck me" I answered, laying back. "You nasty lil student boy," John said as he straighten his back, and buried his cock balls-deep into my ass. John was kneeling between my legs, my feet on his shoulders, trying to poz me as I lay on my back pierced by his fat cock. "John, jesus, actually, fuck, I can't let you do this. You've got to," trailing off as John slid his cock out and then gently slid it back inside me again. "Just let me fuck you for a bit. I won't cum in you, I promise," John whispered. Lifting my bare feet to his face, he sucked on my toes as he slid his cock in and out of my ass, gently fucking me. "Oh god, fuck, I can't believe I'm doing this in the hospital,' I said, curling my toes round John's tongue as he fucked me bareback, slow, and really deep. "Are you sure you don't want this?" John asked, reaching over and picking up the condom, putting it in my hand. "Why? I don't need it - as long as you don't cum in me," I replied. John fucked me harder. "Yeah, but I'm getting close," John said, sliding out completely and then fucking back in to the hilt, hard and deep, my ass slurping wth each thrust. "Fuck. How close? This feels really good," I asked, pushing my feet into his mouth as he fucked me. "Getting closer," John warned. "Don't cum. Just slide it in me for a few more seconds before you pull out. You're my first ever poz cock. I want it to last as long as possible," I responded, only to be met by a grunt from John. "How close are you now?" I asked as John tongue fucked my toes while he poz fucked my ass. "Pretty close," John answered, fucking me deeply, adding "Whoa, stop, stop, don't move," as he buried his cock inside me to the hilt, his balls slapping my ass. Then he bit down on my toes, chewing them gently as he closed his eyes. I could feel his cock throbbing in my ass as we both held still, John moaning and sighing. "Got too close and had to stop?" I asked, rubbing my big toe on John's tongue. "Fuck yeah. I nearly nutted up in side you then," John answered. I lifted my ass up off his cock and slid back down onto it again, grinding my ass onto his erection buried deep inside me. "Careful,' he said, grinding into me, adding "I'm really close." "How close? Could you cum in five strokes?" I asked, pulling my ass up and slamming it back onto his cock again. He tensed inside me, grinding up into my bowels trying to burrow deeper with his cock. "I dunno. Do you want to risk it?" he said pulling out and sliding back in counting off "One." "Go on. Go to five," I answered, pushing my toes again into his mouth. He slid in and out as I counted "Two..., ugh..., three... ughhhh..., four..., ughhhh... five....' I said as he slid in and out slowly. "Well, I didn't cum,' he said, grinding hard into my guts with his cock. "Then keep fucking me," I responded, pushing my foot into his mouth and gripping his tongue with my toes. He pulled-out and slid back in again. "One...' he said, adding "how many strokes do I get this time?" as he slid out and fucked back in, hard, balls-deep, "...two...," he said. "Just keep fucking me," I replied, pulling my ass off his cock and sliding it back down. He slid in and out repeatedly, quietly counting as he fucked. "Three... four... five... six...." "Stop counting," I ordered. John fucked me gently, in silence, and then sped-up, his balls slapping my ass. "But keep fucking?" he asked. After ten or more thrusts, he rammed his raw, poz cock deep inside my ass. "Fuck, John, keep fucking me. Don't stop," I ordered, again pushing my toes into his mouth. "I'm going to cum," he said, pushing my feet into my chest as he bent me in half to fuck me harder, slamming into my guts over and over, asking "Where do you want it?" "Cum inside me." He lifted my feet up to his face and sucked my toes again. "Are you sure?' he asked, all the while fucking hilt deep and brutally hard, warning "I'm about to cum. I didn't reply. As he moaned and closed his eyes, I grabbed his ass cheeks and pulled his cock into me. John bucked his hips as his balls pulled up tight in their sack. "Cum in me, John. Oh god, cum inside me," I answered. "Here it comes. FUCKING TAKE MY LOAD, YOU LITTLE NEG STUDENT BOY WHORE. YEAH, FUCK.' he hoarsely grunted. Then he bent over, putting his face next to mine as he unloaded deep inside me, asking "Can you feel my cock expanding? I'm cumming inside you." He took the condom which I was still clutching, and tossed it on to the floor, saying "My dirty sperm is right up in your guts. What would your doctor friends say?" as he finished-off his orgasm, his cock still buried in my guts. After a few seconds John pulled his cock out of my ass, resting his helmet at my hole, coating his fat mushroom tip in his sperm, he rubbed it round my ring and pushed his cum covered cock back inside me, fucking my cum filled ass for a minute or two as he came down off his cum. "Working it deep up into you boy. What does your medical student knowledge say about that?" John asked, grinding deep up into me with his cock. "John, fuck, oh god, pull it out. I've gotta go shit out your load." With that John finally let me slide off his cock. I stood up, naked, my bare feet cold on the floor, as John's toxic cum ran down my leg. John stood up in front of me, our cocks touching. As we stood face to face, he held our cocks together in his hand and stroked them, while his other hand slid round behind me and fingered my cummy hole. "You probably should shit that out," John suggested, ramming two fingers into my guts and swirling them around in his load up inside my guts. "Oh fuck..." I responded as John scraped my prostate with his finger nails. "...or, you could just fuck me quickly first, you must be gagging to blow a load after taking your first poz cock," John responded, turning round and bending over the bed, pulling his ass cheeks apart. i had a strange, out-of-body moment. i looked down at his rosebud ass, looked at my bare feet, curling my toes on the cold floor, cum dripping down my ankle and onto my foot where it had leaked out my ass. Then I looked at my hard, dripping, angry, cock, my mushroom helmet purple. It was so hard. "Well?" John asked. i stepped forward and pushed my helmet into his ass. "Good boy," John said.

All good advice here. As the whoring out participant, you also have to be ready with lube or poppers or water or whatever the bottom needs so that he can stay in position taking loads. Watch the door, watch your valuables, watch the participants. Know what to do if someone gets out of line, but above all else, be HOT for the scene. If the thought of whoring out a hole doesn't get you rock hard and dripping, you may not get a lot out of the scene. I've had the best luck with bbrt and a4a, but craigslist can work too - depends on your area. I see you're in Chicago. One of my favorite places to get bred in public is Manhandler Saloon in Lincoln Park. they have a large outdoor "barn" in the back of the bar that sees action almost nightly. I've been bent over and bred there MANY nights....

Do saunas do bi-sex? Bi fun I’ve had has been at bi night at swingers clubs. Try fab swingers to find a local one

I used to go to the baths almost daily when I lived in Philly. I'd take 20-30 loads in me every day and never asked or cared what the other guy's status was. For me, it's just all about getting that mancum deep in my hungry hole. Not every bottom is meant to be a total cum dump like me, and I'm glad about that because it's more loads for my hole!

"I guess the point of this story is, I think every man has a desire to dump his seed into another living thing. It's the most connecting experience you can have with someone. And I also think every man should be fucked by a nice dick at least once. It's honestly a humbling experience." -- I think you've really captured a truth here. Giving or receiving seed in your person is such a primal need. We're made to "breed"...gay or straight...we need to share this creative life force with another human being...and the more we do so, the more alive we feel.

https://www.xtube.com/video-watch/quickie-with-sir-22395332 QUICKIE WITH SIR Sir bends me over doggy style to bury his raw dick deep inside. However, it doesn't take long before my tight bubble butt pushes him over the edge and he covers my ass with his hot cum.

I learned last year that I was HIV positive, initially I was like almost all who become positive and that is panic and depression. After many doctors’ visits and having the many options explained I was overwhelmed and ready to give up. Then a friend of mine, who is also HIV positive, reminded me how I had made the decision to go BB and play raw in bathhouses, glory holes, cursing spots and on line for the past several years. He reminded that I had been playing raw for almost 8 years. He was shocked that after 8 years of playing with no telling how many guys raw it took as long as it did before I became HIV positive. In fact, he shook his head and called me a true bug chaser. I didn’t see it that way at first but now I realize I was. I have now embraced being positive and have decided to be the true Poz Pig that I have always been. I have chosen to go unmedicated and embrace my future. Is this wrong, thoughts anyone I am curious what others who have the same background sexually think.

PART 7 　 I got back in my car and just drove around for a bit, wondering what I was doing. I could think about nothing but cock in my ass for some reason. A week ago, I had been completely straight and no real thoughts about gay sex and now here I was with at least three loads of cum up my ass in a week. Damn, it had felt so amazing. I had just let some anonymous guy fuck me in an adult store through a hole and had loved it. My ass was on fire and I felt I needed more. What to do? I found myself pulling into a park here in town. I pulled over to think some more. I got out and made my way to a picnic table. I had brought along a can of Coke and opened it and was sipping and trying to wrap my head around what I was doing and what I was going to do. I was thinking so hard I didn't notice that another car had pulled in and a guy approached the table I was at. Then he was asking if he could join me and sit there also. I just kind of nodded ok without paying any attention, really. Then it dawned on me he had sat down on the same side of the table as me. Glancing his way, I noticed he was sitting astride the seat with one leg under the table and the other somewhat straight out on the other side. He had on shorts and as I looked I could clearly see that his cock was hanging somewhat out of one leg of his shorts. It looked to be quite large and I could not take my eyes off of it. My ass was still tingling from just being fucked about a half hour before. As I looked I could see it start to come up some. He saw me looking and stood up and dropped his shorts off and as he did his cock was really starting to stand up. It was big. As I tore my eyes off of it and looked up, he was smiling and motioned for me to follow him. He kicked the shorts completely off then and started walking towards a pathway. Mesmerized, I got up and just followed along. We got just a short distance down the path and it widened up and he stopped. I walked up to him and he, without a word, reached out and I let him start pulling my clothes off. I couldn't seem to move. He soon had me naked and himself as well. He I turned my head to look back and he lined his cock up with my hole and just thrust in in one lunge. The last thing I noticed before it was covered up by my body was that he had a tattoo just over his cock that looked like a biohazard sign I remember seeing. Then he was deep inside me and I was groaning in the fantastic feelings he was causing my ass. He started somewhat slow but that was just a few strokes and then he was pounding my ass with a fury. Every thrust inward he would grind around and then back out till just the head of his cock was still in me and then back in hard and more grinding like he was drilling for oil or something. It was amazing. My own cock was soon hard as a rock too. He kept up the drilling for a good ten minutes and then all at once he pulled out. He leaned over me and finally spoke, "You are loving this aren't you? We had to make sure it really feels good forever." He then thrust at least three of his fingers up my ass and ground them around hard and as he pulled them out I felt his fingernails drag out and I almost screamed from the agony. He then rammed his cock back in me hard as he dropped his hand in front of my face and I could see blood all over his finger tips. He was again destroying my hole with his pounding, hard and fast and deep and still grinding into me. He then said, "I'm getting close now. Get ready. Here comes my nice poz load up your ass." I had no idea what he was talking about but as he was cumming my own cock erupted too. He ground in me hard for a bit and then pulled out. As we straightened up he said, "I hope you enjoy my nice gift." I said, "I am loving cum up me now." He said, "Not the cum but what is in it." I said, "What do you mean, do you have an STD?" He grinned and told me, "Kind of one. I have AIDS and now you will too. That's why I scratched your ass up good to make sure it took." I could only just stand there in shock as he put his shorts back on and took off.

Part 4 　 I headed out to my favorite bar then. For some reason, being a Saturday night, it was dead as hell. I ended up going to about 4 different bars and they were all deader than I could remember them ever being. Not a thing going on and the few girls I saw were not the type I usually went for at all. I had a drink in each bar but was just getting more and more frustrated at the lack of anything going on. I had not had sex in at least 3 weeks now and I was in need badly. The last bar I went to, as dead as they all were, I downed my drink, hit the toilet to take a well needed piss and decided to head for home. No use spending money for nothing I always thought. Arriving home, I headed in to my place, noting that the new owner seemed to still have all his company there. I went to the kitchen to get a beer and there was a knock on the door. I answered it, to find Hank standing there in his short shorts again. He said, "I hate to bother you this late, but I am about out of ice and wondered if you had any to spare or would be willing to run to the store for me to get some?" I told him, "You are in luck tonight as I just bought a bag of ice and hadn't opened it, yet. You can have it if you want." He said, "You are a life saver. I could sure use it. I will replace it tomorrow if that is ok? We are just drinking a little more than I thought we would." He then, just reached out and grabbed me and gave me a huge hug. I could feel that huge cock of his poke me when he did that. He then pulled back and said, "Sorry about that. Just overwhelmed a little by your kindness." I got him the ice and as he was leaving he said, "Hey, that offer is still open, if you want to come over and have a drink, too." With that he was off to his place. I went into my livingroom and turned the TV on and drank my beer. Then I got up to get another one and realized it was the only one I had and didn't even have a bottle of booze in the place as I had meant to pick up some on the way home with a hot date. Now, I was thirsty and nothing to drink but water, ugh. I thought about it for a couple of minutes and then decided to take up neighbor on his offer and at least I could get something to drink. I headed out the door and over there. I knocked on his door and he opened it up. He looked surprised but invited me in. He said, "I didn't think you come by, but come on in and have a drink. One of my friends is a dancer and was just going to give us a demonstration. Hope you won't mind as he gets a little erotic at times with it." I told him, "That was fine, I just found out I was completely out of anything to drink and thought I might as well impose and get a free one." He opened the door more and waved me in. I entered and found that basically everyone there had not much more clothes on than Hank did. I was somewhat overdressed after being out all evening. Hank asked what I wanted, indicating that he had quite a bit of almost anything. I told him I usually drank Rum and Coke. He said, "That is one of my favs too and always keep that around." He headed to his bar and soon had one fixed for me. He indicated a chair, telling me it was where he had been sitting but he could squeeze in next to one of his buddies on the couch, since one was going to be getting up to dance anyway. The one going to dance got up and seemed to have more clothes on than the others did. He put in a cd and told us this is the one he danced to the most. The musice started and he was soon dancing to it. He seemed to be pretty good. As the first song came to an end he was working up quite a sweat and kicked off his shoes. By the end of the second song he had pulled his socks off too and by the end of the third one he had his shirt off and was really getting into the music. As I sipped at my drink, it dawned on me that his dance seemed to be good but was also intermingled with some quite hip gyrating moves also, almost like a sexual thing. His fourth song was definitely of a hard slow beat and he was then really gyrating and moving back and forth around the room to the others and almost thrusting his hips into their faces. I finally decided he must be a 'stripper' or something like that. He was then actually pulling each guy he came to by the back of their heads into his crotch area and rubbing all over their faces. As his 4th song ended, he was back in the middle of the room, and grabbing his pants jerked on them and they came right off as they had snaps on the sides I had not noticed. He was now down to only a very small gstring jock strap. My mouth just dropped open as he had a hard on that looked to be a good 10" sticking straight up out of the top of his jock. I took a quick look over at my neighbor and he and all the others were applauding and cheering. My neighbor, stood up and I could tell that his shorts were sticking straight out and he seemed to have a hardon too. I was shocked and had forgotten, for some reason, that Hank was gay and probably all of his friends there were also. He turned to look my way and walked over the me. He said, "Oh, hell, I forgot you were straight. I didn't even think about it. Sorry if that shocked you. If I had remembered I would have warned you before he started."

Part 3 　 My new neighbor and his friend went at it for a good hour. I could not believe the time. Then I finished up my room and got around for the day. It being Sat. and a nice day, I decided to mow the yard like normal for me. I went and got out the mower and then decided to clean it before. I sat down on the lowest step and tipped the mower over on its side. Then started to scrape out the old grass and dirt from the underside, which I had not done before putting it away last time I used it. I was concentrating on it and then it dawned on me someone was watching. I looked up to see Hank standing there watching me and I had not heard him walk up. Being down so low, about the first thing I noticed was that he was wearing old style shorts, the kind men used to wear and very short in the legs. I found myself, basically, looking right at his cock almost hanging out. It was huge. I, being straight, didn't linger there though, it was just a passing thought. I looked up to see that the shorts were really all he had on. He was well muscled, I noted, and had a smile on his face. I told him hi and he said hi in return. He asked what I was up to and told him I was just cleaning the mower and then going to mow. He knelt down and wanted to know if I needed any help? Kneeling like he did, with those short shorts on, his cock practically fell out entirely. He said, "Oops, sorry about that, I just kind of threw these on and didn't realize how short they were anymore. Didn't mean to put on a show." I just laughed and said, "No problem, the neighbors can't see back here with that fence around the back." I went on to tell him I could get the lawn ok, but thanks anyway. I soon had the mower ready and got the yard mowed, working up a good sweat by the time I was done. I went in the house and threw off my sweaty clothes, took my shower and then before getting dressed, went to the kitchen to get a cold water out of the fridge. As I turned to go get dressed I heard a soft whistle and turning found Hank standing at the door. He said, "Sorry about that, but you left the door open and I was just about to yell when I noticed you bent over in the refridgerator. Sorry, also, about the whistle but couldn't help it as you do have a nice bod there. I just wanted to see if you had a hammer I could borrow. I'm going to hang some pics up and can't find mine?" I was a little flustered at being naked in front of a gay man, but regained my composure and told him that I did have one, just give me a minute to get some clothes on. He told me he would wait. I threw on some shorts and a Tshirt and went back to the kitchen. I dug in my tool drawer and got the hammer for him. We stood there a bit and made some small talk. He then said, "Oh, by the way, do you have plans for tonight? If not, I am having a few friends over for some drinks. Nothing fancy, just sitting around gabbing and you can come over if you want to. I am sure they would all welcome you." I told him, "I planned on going to a couple of bars to check on friends and see what else might happen." He said, "We will still be up late and the offer still stands if you want to stop by later." He then left and I started getting ready to go out and see if I could find a hot girl for the night. As I was leaving I noticed about 5 guys walking up to my neighbor's door. They each seemed to be, like him, about 35 to 40 years old and all seemed to be decent looking guys.

5. Trophies “You fuckin’ idiot!” He heard a voice from far away. He coughed, threw his hands up to his throat. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You trying to kill him before he even does the job?” He heard the same far away voice, incredulous, like it was shouted in a long, echoing tunnel. Chris rasped in several breath before he trusted he was breathing again. He sat up in bed naked, still high as fuck, but was alone in the master bedroom. The men had left him, and sounded like they were downstairs arguing. “So I got carried away,” he heard Polanski trying to defend himself. “You get carried away. Look at the way you offed the Bailey family. One by one, Brody. One by one. You ain’t no Saint Sanity when you get worked up. How many pieces’ that Tony kid in now? How many fingers did you cut off, how many ears, and whatever, before you just went and slit their throats? That wasn’t just for the old man’s benefit and you know it. You liked it! You was enjoying yourself.” Chris was trying unsuccessfully to process the evening. How much time had passed since he blacked out? Johnny Carson was on TV doing his opening monologue. It couldn’t have been that long. Still flying, not a lot of things made sense. Then, like someone had flipped a light switch, the pieces of the night fit. The last he’d heard on the television news, the sewer pipe, the two cons, they were right here. Chris crawled off the bed. On hands and knees he crept to the staircase to observe the men. They were in their boxers again. “Listen, you dumb shit. That was to get the dirty cop to squeal where he stashed it. It worked, didn’t it?” Bailey, Don, Brody, whatever his name was, he was no cop. He smacked Polanski in his forehead. “Think, dumb shit. Be smart.” Then he said in a low voice, “If you want to snuff the kid, wait till he brings out the stash, then you can have all the sick motherfuckin’ fun you want. But you almost fucked up what was pretty complicated set up to begin with. Drax would have had both us skinned alive, and I do mean skinned! We seen him do it to that poor fuck Jackson.” Polanski shivered. “So what now?” he said, starting to pace nervously around the room. “So now you go up, and hope the kid recovers. Then you beg him to forgive you, hope he ain’t dead or damaged, and will still do the job for us. You kiss his ass, suck his cock, and do whatever it takes.” “We gonna be straight with him?” “We gotta, but he don’t need to know everything. I’ll do the talking. He’ll trust me more than you, but you gotta make it up to him. Be his pal. You been a mean fuck ever since we busted in on him. Play nice.” They both looked up the staircase. Chris ducked back quickly in the dark hallway. He scurried back to the bedroom, got on the bed, and played possum on his side as the men came back into the room. Polanski got on the bed and shook his shoulder. “Hey, kid,” he said, “kid, you still with us?” Chris faked like he was stirring, throwing his hands to his neck like someone was choking him and sat up in panic. “Nah, nah, you’re okay,” Polanski said nervously. “Things just got a little out of hand, but you’re okay now. Man, I sure am high. How ‘bout you?” “Yeah,” Chris said hoarsely. “You were choking me.” He shoved Polanski away with both hands. “Yeah, nah, I was just playin’, but like Brody knows, I sometimes get carried away. I play too rough.” “Brody?” Chris asked confused. “Ah, geez,” Brody, as Polanski now called him, sighed and put his head in his hand. He sat down on the other side of the bed and put his hand on Chris’ back. “Yeah, we gotta come clean with you kid. We ain’t no cops.” “What?” Chris said in disbelief. “If you’re not the cops, who are you?” Brody laid out it out for Chris. “Nicky and I are ex-cons. We were just released from upstate after doing our time. And the first thing we do is we come pay a visit to the guy who set us up, the crooked cop who lives here. He’d been skimming money off the top for years from the man we work for. A Mister Jones.” “Mr. Jones?” “Well, that ain’t his real name, but better you don’t know.” Brody went on with his story with Chris pretending to hang on every word. “So the dirty cop’s family is away, okay? So we bust in on him. We had to get pretty rough with him, but he finally admitted that he did a bad thing and that he had the money squirreled away in the house, in the duct work. So Mr. Jones instructs us to use Bailey’s uniform and police stuff to get you to come out to Flushing to help us get the stash. Seems like he had his little kid go deep in the ducts and hide the goods where big guys like us can’t get to it, so the only way to get it is for a little guy like you to get it for us. You’re like part of our gang now.” “Did you kill Manetti,” asked Chris, honestly fearing the answer. “Nah,” Brody said. “He hadda done it himself. You seen the place was chained from the inside. Mr. Jones used that as an excuse for us to show up.” “Yeah, and I’m real sorry. I was playing too hard. But it’s ‘cause I like you. I think you’re really sexy and hot for a little skinny guy, and I got a thing for breath control. It’s just a thing I got.” “Yeah,” said Brody, “and it looked like you maybe got a thing for it too now by how much you came all over me.” “Yeah, I don’t think I like it,” Chris said, rubbing his neck. “Nah, nah,” said Polanski. “Not a lot of guys do, and if you, I mean you, me and Brody ever was to, you know, go at it again, and I hope we do, ‘cause the dirty cop ain’t coming back anytime soon,” he said darkly, “so maybe, once we get the stash, maybe we can mess around again, if you want, but only if you want.” “And no choking,” Brody added, running his hand up and down Chris’ back. “Just fun stuff. I like you too. You’ve got a hot little hole like I rarely seen, and a real sexy little bubble butt, which if we didn’t have a job to do, I could right now, cause I’m still horny, right now fuck you again.” It was true. Both men were getting a rise in their shorts. “Yeah,” said Polanski, getting back to business. “But we gotta finish the job, right Brody?” “Nah, you’re right Nicky. So, kiddo, what you say? You part of our gang, help us pull out the money? Then we get back here,” Brody padded the bed, “and we go at it for round two?” “You’d let me be part of your gang?” Chris asked. Both men nodded. “Would I get some of the money?” Polanski raised a brow and looked at Brody. Brody gave him a look back and said to Chris, “Sure, sure. Being in the gang means you get a cut. But we have to give most of it back to Mr. Jones. You understand that, right?” “I guess. I never been in a gang before. And then we can get back here and have more sex? Cause right up till the choking, I really liked it. I never been double fucked before. I guess this’ll be night of firsts.” There was so much untruth dripping all around, as they all looked at each other they all knew they were full of shit, but had to buy it to keep up the ruse.“So let’s do this,” said Chris. They went downstairs and out to the garage. The men’s tools were laid out on the floor near a vent next to the washing machine. The grate was off. Brody gave Chris a small flashlight and a map of the ductwork maze where the cop had his son hide the money. Chris got down on his hands and knees and crawled inside. Even for him it was a tight fit. The two men leered as his ass scuttled away from them. Brody said, shining his flashlight on Chris’ butt admiringly, “Let’s get this done quickly ‘cause I gotta have some of that pretty pussy again.” “Yeah, boy,” Polanski called through the duct, “Taking both our kielbasas means you’re ready for another game I like even better than choking called fisting.” Brody hit Polanski on his forehead again, but Chris had already rounded his first corner and his head was busy sorting through his options. All that stuff his brother had told him came back. Plan B. Look for a way out. They were going to kill him, he was certain of that, so how was he going to make an escape. Here he was, naked crawling through ductwork. If he manage to get out he’d be running down the street naked yelling for help. Well, that was the least of his problems. From the moment both of the men had their hands on him, he felt they were never going to let him out of their site even for one second. Except now. It had to be now or never. Looking at the map there was one tunnel that led to the HVAC system’s main unit in the basement. If he got down to there, he might be able to crawl out one of the basement windows. He scurried the direction he was sure was the route to the basement. It didn’t take him long but once he got down to the basement level he found the only vent into the room was sealed with a grate. He stomped his foot at it. It didn’t budge. He tried again and again, making an awful racket. Brody shouted into the vent what was the matter? He kick against the grate with all his might and it popped off. Nothing, he shouted back. He saw a rat and had to scare it away. He slipped out of the vent and landed on the cold cement. The floor was kind of sticky and slippery. In the dim room he saw the basement windows glowing from the outside streetlights. He went over to one of the windows and unlatched it. It was a lot narrower than he thought, only about six inches high. He was small but not that narrow. Plan B. He walked over to the staircase and again felt the floor was slick and sticky. Once he climbed to the top of the stairs he tried to open the basement door but it was bolted. There wasn’t a latch he could open. A key had to be used to open the door on either side. There must be a key down here somewhere. He felt around for the light switch and flipped it on. The basement was a horror show! Four bodies in various stages of dismemberment were tied to metal folding chairs all facing each other. They were all naked. A blond woman with several knife wounds on various parts of her body was nearest to the stairs. The crooked cop, the one Chris now recognized from the Disney photo, was as big as Brody, was tied up next to her. His neck was sliced ear to ear. Most of the floor’s blood looked to be his, although each family member contributed to the gore. The oldest boy was the one Polanski had talked about. Three of his fingers on his left hand and all the fingers on his right were clipped by garden sheers lying bloodied on the ground. His neck was also sliced. But what was done to the little kid that freaked him out the most, caused him to give up on this particular plan B, of getting out through the basement. As Chris got back into the vent he tried to un-see what he’d seen. The kid he was so envious of? No one deserved a fate like that. In the dark, he follow the map again. He tried to keep his mind on the task at hand, but he kept seeing the kid’s agonized face. Both ears had been clipped, his blond hair matted in red blood. In his mouth, his ears peeked out. As Chris got close to his goal, where there was an X on the map, one glimpse, one flash he tried to push away, but couldn’t: the imprinted image of kid’s bloody crotch. His eyes refused to focus on the particulars of where the blood had come from. He didn’t need to. He knew. Then there, in front of him, was the black briefcase. What kind of psychopaths was he dealing with? What reason could they have to produce such a nightmare? He flipped the clasps and opened it in the narrow vent. Stacks of hundreds neatly lined the case. He was no math wiz, but a quick count of rows times columns times ten stacks deep. The crooks had two million reasons. There was a banging on the metal, and Brody shouted what was taking so long. While he gazed at the money, he shouted he’d gotten to a dead end and got lost. He closed the clasps and turned around in the vent. He added that the map wasn’t accurate but he’d found the briefcase. He was freaked but he knew he couldn’t show it. As he started retracing his steps, he saw there were streaks of blood he’d trailed in from the basement. He had to wipe it off. He re-opening the briefcase and took out a couple of hundreds and cleaned his feet. He had a couple of spots on his knees and hands too, so he took out another couple of bills and wiped himself off with those. It didn’t take long to get back to Brody and Polanski. He pushed the briefcase out and Polanski grab it. Polanski couldn’t help himself and cracked the briefcase. All three of them stared at the contents. Brody was the first to speak. “Holy mother of Christ.” He put his hand on Chris’ butt and started rubbing it. “I think this calls for a celebration fuck. Who’s up for a nightcap?” They flashed glances at one another, and Brody took his finger and felt up Chris’ hole. “Ah, boy. We’re going to have to give you a special reward.” Brody and Polanski shared an evil grin. While they were climbing the stairs back to the bedroom, Brody asked, “So the map was really off?” “Big time,” Chris answered. “The stuff wasn’t where the X was and the layout wasn’t right. That’s what took me so long.” Brody set the briefcase next to the door. “So,” said Brody, “whiskeys on the house.” Chris asked if he could have one. “Sure,” Polanski said. “You earned it, didn’t he Brody?” Brody gave a nod. Chris trotted into the bathroom and brought back a glass. Brody had taken off his boxers and was playing absently with his enormous member. Polanski was around. “Where’s Nick?” he asked starting to pour drinks. “Dunno,” Brody responded, staring at the TV. Johnny Carson was joking around with Joan Rivers. “Hey,” he said lumbering off the bed, “We need a better show. How ‘bout you entertain us while you entertain us?” “Huh?” asked Chris as he poured the final glass. “I want to see how Manetti played with you while we play with you. I got the tape downstairs.” He went to fetch it. He had only a few seconds. Manetti’s drug box was on the cart. He opened it and took out the bottle of G and spit the contents between two of the drinks. He replaced the vial in the box, just when Polanski reappeared. “Crisco!” the man announced. “Promise I’m gonna curl your toes.” Chris gave Polanski his shark smile. “I feel ‘em curling already.” He handed Polanski his whiskey. Brody came in holding the VHS tape and popped it in the VCR and pushed play. Chris handed him his drink, as the familiar grunts of Manetti fucking him played in the background. Brody held up his glass. “We, who are about to die, salute you.” They both looked at Chris and each of them downed their glasses in one gulp. The two men squished their faces. Chris followed suit and stuck out his tongue making a gah sound, which made the men laugh. Polanski grabbed the almost empty bottle. “How about a chaser for a job well done, and to the newest member of our gang.” He divided the remains between them. “Bottoms up!” They raised their glasses again and kicked them back. “Okay, bottom. Up!” he ordered Chris. “On your back, head here,” Polanski barked. “Knees up.” Not used to hard alcohol, the whiskey got to Chris’ head pretty quickly. Combined with the earlier crystal, he was starting to feel spaced and horny. He got on the bed, listening to Manetti fuck him on TV. He forced his mind not to think about Manetti, but focused instead on Polanski. Even though he didn’t like the guy he was a sexy fucker. Brody knelt next to him and pushed his head toward his erection. Polanski greased two fingers and slipped them into Chris’ asshole. It felt good to have Polanski in his chute. Not liking him somehow made him harder. He bore down on Polanski’s fingers and took them right down to the knuckles. Polanski said to Brody, “This kid’s a natural. Look at this.” He greased up four fingers and slipped them with no resistance into Chris. Brody gave out an excited moan. “How ‘bout being a real pig, kid. Eat daddy’s hole.” He raised himself from feeding Chris his dick and lifted one leg over Chris’ head and sat his hairy butt on his face. “Dig in there, pig boy. Clean daddy’s dingleberries.” He complied eagerly, using his hands to spread Brody’s cheeks further apart, using his tongue to untangle each strand of clotted hair. The closer he came to Brody’s asshole, the more hardened fecal matter he found. Polanski added his thumb and Chris felt his whole hand pressing at his entrance. Again, he bore down and his asslips swallowed all of Polanski’s hand. “Woo-ee,” shouted Polanski. He wasn’t patient or caring like Manetti, he didn’t wait for Chris to adjust to his hand, just began pulling his hand out and pushing it back in again. Chris yowled under Brody’s ass each time Polanski yanked out his hand. He raised his hand to tell Polanski to take it easy, but Brody grabbed them both. Brody’s ass was firmly on his face, and the big man started rutting impatiently for Chris to get his tongue deeper his hole. When Chris traced his tongue around his asslips, the man gave out a huge farted. The skin vibrated lewdly on his mouth and Brody grabbed his head so Chris couldn’t get away. The smell was foul but he was stuck smelling it. Polanski was picking up the pace, pulling one of Chris’ legs over his muscular shoulders to get Chris to spread of his legs wider. The violent punching was winning. The helplessness of being pinned up such a big hair butt and his legs force apart while his hole was being wrecked, caused Chris to surrender completely. Polanski took the surrender to increase his attack, pulling out fiercely. He stopped for a second to admire the red pedals of the rosebud he was creating. “That’s it boy, push!” shouted Polanski, tapping on the rectum that was coming out of its hole. “I want some of that,” Brody said woozily, getting off Chris’ face. He scuttled down to Polanski and each man took one of Chris’ legs and pulled him apart. “Look, this little fuck still has a boner.” He looked at Chris who was wiping bits of Brody’s shit off his face. “You gonna let us do whatever we want to you, ain’t ya, boy?” Chris nodded. Brody greased his big paw and stuck four fingers into Chris. His hand was too big to get, but Brody stubbornly kept pushing his paw against Chris’ resisting hole. “Give it up, boy.” “I can’t,” Chris said. “It’s too big.” That only made Brody more determined. He leaned into the boy, and forced his fist in. Chris gave out a cry of extreme pain. His torso shot up trying to expel Brody’s huge mitt, but Brody twisted and prodded his hole enjoying the spasms he was causing Chris to endure. The hand popped out of the boy as he fell back on the bed. “You pussy,” said Brody, with weary eyes. “Let’s try that again. Daddy likes depth. C’mon, open your cunt for daddy.” His hand shot into Chris again, and though it was agonizing, Chris felt his rectum was prepared this time to accommodate the invasion. Brody was even rougher than Polanski, more aggressively tunneling deep into his hole. Polanski watch amused, though his breath was increasingly labored and shallow. Brody laid flat on his side to reach into Chris’ hole, Polanski fell from his knees to one butt cheek. He looked at Chris’ hard on and reached out and smacked the kid’s balls. The kid jumped but Brody’s fist in his ass held his in place. Polanski slapped his balls again, then took a fist and punched him in the nuts. Chris’ ass muscles reacted by baring down hard on Brody’s wrist and that egged Brody on to go in deeper. Chris’ intestines could accept any more of the girth of Brody’s hand, yet Brody’s face showed that a little thing like Chris’ anatomy wasn’t going to stop him. “The goal is the heart of the boy, and you’re going to give it to me,” stated Brody as he pushed in another inch. Polanski didn’t let up punching Chris in the balls. Chris’ head was back on the bed struggling to resist these two psychopaths, his hands flying in the air. There was a bounce on the bed. He looked over to see Polanski laying on his side. Brody looked at Polanski laying there, said, “Lightweight.” He pushed himself up on his side and pulled one of Chris’ legs over his fleshy shoulder. He stop for a second and examined the bottom of Chris’ foot. His face displayed his puzzlement. “Boy,” he said having a hard time put words together, “why have you got a red foot?” His mystified expression suddenly sparked with a dull anger. He pulled up Chris’ other foot. “You been someplace you shouldn’t.” There was such an ominous tone, Chris knew the man figured out where he’d been. “I’m gonna fuckin’...rip your heart...out of your…” The big man went down. Chris laid there for a moment. Brody’s hand was still far up his colon. He felt his fingers slightly twitching. His balls ached painfully, he was sure Polanski had damaged him. He started trying to pull his chute off of Brody’s hand, but at first only managed to pull Brody along with him as he slid across the bed. Without realizing it he found himself on the bed’s edge, his hand gave out under him, and he fell backward landing on his back. The quick, forceful drop pulled Brody’s whole hand out of him in one go, and also pulled out of Chris a gut-wrenching shriek. He now had that empty feeling once again, but this time he was very happy about it. The bedroom phone rang on the nightstand behind his head. The digital clock showed it was just after two o’clock. He knew who it was. He picked up the receiver without saying anything, just listening. “Do you have it?” Master Drax said on the other end of the line. “Yes,” Chris answered. There followed a long pause so long, Chris thought the connection was lost. Then Master Drax continued. “Are they dead?” He leaned over Polanski who hadn’t move since he fell over. He got in close to see if he was breathing. He was, but just barely. His lips were blue and his skin very white. Brody was breathing hard, but Chris had noticed he was always breathing hard. “No, but they don’t look good.” “Bring me what you found in the ventilation system. Leave the briefcase. It will attract undue attention to you. Put the contents in your bag and bring it to me.” Brody started to stir. Chris stepped back in alarm. The large man raised up on one hand, then vomited all over the bed. He looked around the room disoriented, saw Chris, tried to focus, but his eyes closed and he collapsed into his mess. “Leave them. Move quickly, child.” There was a click, and then dial tone. Chris went in the bathroom and splashed water on his face, then all the mess off his ass. What was he going to wear? His clothe in the washer were wet probably. He ran into the large walk-in closet. Half the clothes were the wife’s, and the other half were the dead officer’s, all way too big for him. A bright red jogging suit with white stripes hung next to the door. It was also way too big, but there was a belt rack on the back of the door. He could cinched up the waist with one of them. He grabbed the jogging suit, which uncovered the officer’s holster and police revolver. He wished he’d found that before. Now it seemed after the fact. He put the briefcase and his gym bag on the bed and began transferring the money. He looked over at Polanski. He’d quit breathing. All the money fit with a little room left over. He ran downstairs to the garage and got his damp clothes out of the washer. Sprinting back upstairs he stopped off in Eddie’s bedroom, found his sneakers, and sat on the kid’s bed tying his shoes. He went back into the bedroom to fetch the bag, when Brody rolled over the side of the bed with great effort, but even more determination. He stood teetering, blocking the door. “You little fuck,” he said, looming menacingly, taking one step at a time toward Chris. Chris back up with each step he took, but there wasn’t anywhere he could run. He was cornered. He jumped up on the bed, but the big man grabbed his foot and Chris tumbled off onto the floor, banging his head on the closet door. The man stumbled toward him. Chris scrambled up and backed into the closet, closing the door behind him. He grabbed the holster and moved to the back of the closet, far away the door. The door flew open and Brody charged at him with a monstrous roar intent on tearing him limb from limb. Chris pulled the Glock out of its holster, clicked off the safety, and emptied six bullets in the man’s stomach. Brody was knocked backwards with each strike, but still stood his ground, taller and now madder than ever. “I’m fucking gonna reach inside you and tear out your lungs.” He charge again at Chris, grabbed Chris by the neck and lifted him to the ceiling. Chris unloaded nine more rounds, first hitting his shoulder, his arm, his chest, and, finally feeling his throat about to snap, shot him between the eyes. He kept pulling the trigger long after the gun was empty. Brody fell backward dropping Chris to the floor. His body made a loud thump. As he sprawled, arms wide, on the emerald green shag carpeting, red streams of blood slowly spread in all directions. Chris slowly stood up, still in shock. It wasn’t till the heavy revolver slipped out of his hand that his flight instinct took over. He jumped over the dead man, snatched up his gym bag, and sped out of the house never looking back. A black Camaro sat at the curb. Its engine gunned once as Chris approached it with mounting dread. At curbside he bent down to view the driver and his fate. Inside a large shark-tooth grin spread from ear to ear. “Nice work, Chief,” Manetti said holding the wheel, gunning the engine again. “Love the outfit. Red's definitely suits you. Get in.” Chris did. The car squealed down the street, wheels smoking, laying eight feet of rubber minutes before the cops arrived triggered by several reports of gun fire.

3. Hole Fuck. Fuck. A triangle Fuck. A triangle of pleasure Fuck. A triangle of pleasure spreads Fuck. A triangle of pleasure spreads from his cock, balls, asshole, erupting outward, unrelenting, uncontrollable, to his entire body like an volcano exploding. Nothing could ever top this feeling sending him ablaze in molten heat and light. Fuck. The only thing that could ever top this feeling had to be death. Snuffed. Blackness. Oblivion. Because right now, mother fucker, at this single moment, he felt everything. Every fucking thing. He was Colossus. A Titan. God. The world channeled through him. Fuck yes. He was the eye of the needle; the eye of the beholder; the fuckin' cat five swirling eye of the hurricane. Nothing existed before this moment, nothing would after. He embodied the chord alpha and omega struck together throughout eternity jammed into one single note. Bam! Fuckin’ right here. Right now. Shit, man, it's a tsunami in here and he's riding this skinny little surfboard called Chris—it’s a thrill of a lifetime—and he's hanging on for dear fucking life! Fuck. He's overboard! He lost where he was, who he was. He's swimming up for air. All he feels is a tongue in his hole and a gummy mouth sucking his shriveled dick. Hairy arms hold him and run their hands over mounds of flesh, his burning flesh. He grinds his ass over someone’s furry pubes. Fuck, dude, tell how good is that? He'll never be able to sustain how aroused he is, every synapse of ecstasy is firing simultaneously. He's sure someone’s saying something to him but he can’t comprehend, even less respond. All he can react to is touch, those that touch him, those he can touch. Other senses abandoned him. Hard flesh, leathery muscle, sagging flesh, sinewy muscle, all attached to him in some area of his body, but he can’t differentiate the sum of these sensations. Fuck. There’s an argument, then a suggestion. Slowly he’s regaining sight. The pictures he saw stuttered like a reel of film falling off its track, still he made out bits of a room that could be hell. Red flakes falling off walls. Metallic roof reflecting flames all around him. An orange object dangled in front of him. What the fuck was that? A tentacle? He thought of a carrot, albeit one that was extraordinarily long and extremely pliable. Fuck. It was going in his anus and going in deep. Fuck. Voices emerged in the hellscape. Take it in—let it penetrate you. I've still got you. Long Beach Carl, his mother’s boyfriend was there. He's pushing the carrot into him. Oliver North was there as are a million cameras firing off strobe after strobe in his brain. Pop! Pop pop pop. He felt the object, initially so slender you hardly knew it was there until its mass grows with every inch it's inserted. The object passed through his rectum and entered his large intestine. It jus' pass through his second ring, said a Caribbean sounding voice. He's in a James Bond movie. He closes his eyes, he's tripping heavy, he knows he's not in a James Bond movie. Yet in his mind he imagines there's a race car that's tearing through a winding road in the Alps. He sees Sean Connery driving the winding road. His colon is a road, the object a vehicle that’s opening up his insides; every twist, tunnel and turn. Boom. Fuck. Chris is back in his body trying to come to terms with an object he feels somewhere on the right side of his abdomen. He ran his hand down to the spot and definitely felt an object inside him. Someone, Manetti it must be, pulled his hand back over his head. There are two men, Jamal and Master Drax he recognized, conferring at his hole, pushing something, a malleable orange sex toy through his anal canal. "The last mile is always the most difficult," Master Drax said to Jamal. Jamal goes back to sucking Chris' peanut. It not only distracted, but felt indescribably soothing. "Are you still with us, child?" Master Drax asked Chris. Chris wanted to communicate that he was still with them, raise a thumb or something, but he can't. He's immobile. He blinked instead hoping that said something. Words won't come back for quite a while, except for one. "Fu-u-u-u-ck," he yowls, forcefully arching his back. "I told you, Christian. New worlds. Hold him down. It doesn't give you pain. It's simple something you've never experienced." There is nothing to compare this to. He's hornier than fuck. He imagined his colon is being invaded by the tentacle of an octopus. He vividly hallucinates Master Drax is holding an octopus and guiding it to slither deep and deeper into him. But the tentacle had hit an impasse. It refused to penetrate into the next chamber. It had a life of its own, the tentacle; it poked and prodded against an impenetrable wall, won't proceed no matter how much Chris or Master Drax want it to. "The last foot is always the most revealing," Master Drax said to Chris, who could do nothing but look at him, and feel what was happening inside. "Jamal, get the amyl from the drawer." Jamal left the boy's dick and returned with a handful of capsules. He broke one and put it up to Chris nostrils. "Inhale it deeply, child." The effect it had on him was to immediately knock his head off his body. More than freeing his gut to allow the sex toy to penetrate, was the attitude it instilled: lust overpowers everything. He wanted that orange tentacle further up his ass. Jesus Fucking Christ he did! And his lust made it so. "F-u-u-u-u-ck." He feels it so intensely slip deeper inside. Two inches, three? It's a tickle that grows to a finger, which grows two feet in length to the size of a fist. The final girth is a medium size clenched fist. Master Drax has gotten the entire sex toy to press up against Chris' sphincter, but he's not satisfied. He bares down with his own fist to get his fist inside the boy too. "Another one," he instructed Jamal, who already had another hit of amyl under Chris's nose. Chris doesn't say, ‘fuck.’ Instead out rasped a throaty animal sound, a squall of air reacting to muscles going beyond what they're meant for: to hold shit in. There was pain, undeniably, but there was a definite element of pleasure in the animal cry, too. A sound an animal might shriek when it was dying but more like when it gave birth. To Chris, it was a sound emanating from his guts, and the large object within him and the large fist, that even after it entered his hole still plunged deeper into his bowels. He started stammering mindlessly, "fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," throwing his pelvis in the air, trying to get whatever's inside him outside him. This was where Manetti came in, holding him down, calming his colt. "Shhh. You did it, Chief.” He brought the kid down to him. “Good boy, good job." And though Manetti was as high as he's been in quite a while, he knew how to ride these twenty foot waves to shore. "Breathe. Get used to it. Accept it.” Manetti ran his hand over Chris’ chest, tweaked his nipple lightly. “Breathe, buddy. Relax your hole around it. Now squeeze! Now relax. Do it again." He's more a disembodied voice to Chris, but it was a familiar, disembodied voice, and it seemed to work. Though his hole was ready to explode again at any moment, and though the strain was more intense than anything he'd ever felt, he was over the agony of a few seconds ago. As he squeezed, then released, he was letting go of the panic and accepting the new sensation. Master Drax's pulled his fist out. This set off on another round of spasms, this time dispelling, like a two foot long shit—which pretty accurately described how it felt—the orange two-foot long object inside him. What would usually take his body hours of wave-like contractions to expel, happened in two seconds, which left him with an amazing feeling. Besides having the relief of not having the object ripping and pulling every which way, he was left with a sense of profound emptiness, and one other feeling he didn’t expect: he wanted it back in again. *** "Jamal, we need to capture this. Put two lights there and the camera there." Jamal went about setting up the shot. "Pig, let Christian up and bring over some grease. And take off that cage. I want you fluffed up when we shoot." Manetti helped Chris out of the sling. "I don’t think he’s ready to take my paw. Let Jamal fist him. He can probably take that,” he said to Master Drax. "Nonsense. Are to telling me how to conduct his affairs?" Master Drax handed Chris a bottle of poppers. "Use this right before we shoot." "No, Master,” Manetti replied. “You always know best. I just think the kid should..." "Enough. I determine what he 'should.' Jamal, are we ready?" Jamal nodded, and then helped Chris get into the sling. "Chief, how you feelin'?" Manetti asked Chris, who was adjusting the leg straps. "I feel great! That was mind-blowing. I am so fucking high." Manetti acknowledged he was too. Chris hadn't really considered that. Nothing seemed to exist beyond the skin of his body. "Places." Master Drax was in his element. "Jamal, take the boom, I'll operate the hand held. Pig, I want you coming into the shot. Christian, you just stay where you are. Enjoy it and encourage Manetti however you'd like. Use the seduction you know you have—you have the hole everyone wants, own that—but make sure you don't fake it, make sure you really want it from Manetti. No BS. Let's see how you do." "Yes, Master. Thank you for all of this." Master Drax nodded his approval, and called, "Action:" FADE IN: ABANDONED BUILDING - NIGHT There's a close-up of Chris' little puckered butthole. Its lips pout out like it's waiting for a kiss. It's not virginal anymore, but it's hardly gaped either. It lusts for something, someone. Manetti's broad back and hairy shoulders enter the frame and, yes, he's hard, very hard. You can tell there's chemistry, pun intended, between him and the boy. Let's not hide the fact they both look heavily drugged. He sits on a stool facing the boy's vulnerable hole. He puts a finger on its lip and pulls it down, testing its elasticity. The boy starts only slightly. He's excited yet there is an edge of fear in his face. We zoom in. His eyes are more than a little crazed with desire. The world weighs heavily on him, but he's young and resilient. It will take a lot to wear him down completely, and Manetti is more than capable of doing it. The man brings up two greased fingers and inserts them in the boy's velvet hole. They slide in easily. He coats the canal and bends down and brings up three fingers and more lube. The man's other hand is stroking his own rigid pole. He could nut at any point but he’ll hold off, at least for now. Three fingers easily slide into the boy's opening. The man shoves his three fingers up to where his pinky stops him from going further. He twists around the boy's hole, causing the boy to stir in pleasure. It's a very new sensation to him, and there's an exhilaration in his eyes that this man is going to penetrate his rectum with those enormous paws. He anticipates what it will feel like, how much it will hurt, but still grants there’s a deeper lust in him, a hedonistic impulse he's knows he's always had, that wants this man, wants this man in the most carnal of ways. Four greased fingers come up to the boy's butt and slide in, this time not as easily. Manetti has to go slow, gathering his fingers together, twisting slowly, applying pressure ever so slowly, prying the kid's sphincter apart, easing it open. He still has the large ridge of his thumb to go and he doesn't want to rush Chris. "Pick up the pace, pig. Let's get to it," says the director. Manetti sees Chris is taking a hit of poppers. That should help. He greases his whole hand and swathes the boy's entire butt. He prods the hole with four fingers, then adds his thumb. It's all funneling down into this tight hole. He's fighting with Chris' sphincter, it's resisting the circumference of his palm. Manetti twists slowly one way then the other. "Take three hits in a row, boy," he instructs Chris. Chris has only had single hits up to now, and each one has left him spinning, but he listens to Manetti and takes three consecutive hits. He barely manages to replace the cap but his eyes signal he's ready. Manetti holds his hand out in place. Not only is the kid's hole relaxing, he’s pushing out his butt and on his own, starts swallowing Manetti hairy paw. He keeps jutting his ass out so it swallows Manetti’s thumb, clutching the entire appendage down to his wrist. He’s instinctively squeezing Manetti’s huge mitt into him, as the hand tapers to a wrist. The vice-like clamp slides Manetti fingers into the boy's soft internal flesh. He howls at his accomplishment. He's in ecstatic agony as his rectum comes to accept the large foreign object. A huge invader, the likes his internal organs have never known. Master Drax was large, but Manetti's huge. Manetti rests his hand just where it is. He tells Chris to take another hit, which he does, and then starts slowly turning his hand inside the boy. They look into each other's eyes, and you can see the intensity of their communication transcends words. There is a microsecond of pain registering on Chris' face, and Manetti stops twisting, but begins again as soon as he sees Chris has accepted the sensation and now enjoys it. The tip of Manetti's middle finger is the first to touch a deeper area. He feels the rapid pulse of the boy in what feels like strings guarding a new chamber. He gently swirls the finger clockwise, then slowly traces the finger counterclockwise. Chris initiates a release of internal muscles that allow Manetti to add his index and ring finger deeper into Chris' canal. Manetti rotates slightly to allow his pinky and thumb to follow into the chamber. Chris inhales deeply as he senses where Manetti is in his body. It’s both an open invitation to go further, and a dawning realization of how far he ultimately wants Manetti to penetrate him. It’s just the two of them, eye to eye. Again he's in an enclosed confessional with Manetti. “You owned me," he admits, "ever since I met you. I can't resist you." He proves it, too, by sliding down deeper and impaling himself further onto Manetti's hand. You only have to look at the earnestness in his expression, his utter submission to the will of the man inside him, to see Manetti can do to him whatever he wants. Manetti knows that and will exploit it. The splayed out fingers start balling into a fist. The fingertips scrape against the raw colon sending nerve cells into an explosion of sensation, firing round after round of alarm to Chris' brain. Chris trusts Manetti with his body. He breaths and quells the panic. There is a joy about him knowing Manetti now actually has his fist, his balled up fist, in his ass. The noun, fist, he sees, is why it's also a verb. Yes, he signals to Manetti. Yeah, do it, fist me, say his eyes. And Manetti starts, ever so slowly, pulling out then pushing in. It's building. You can see it in the boy's face. It's revving up to become a piston fuck, which is animating Chris' face: joy, pleasure, excitement, apprehension, and at last at a building rhythmic pace, lust; demonic lust for Manetti to do it harder. Manetti knows this. This isn't his first rodeo. He's a great Top and is proving again. When you say 'handpuppet' this is what it means. Manetti twists Chris on his wrist. He's testing the boy constantly, seeing what he can take, seeing where he has to push him to accept his, Manetti's, will. Manetti knows the kid's body will reveal the course his hand will take and guide him along the way, but it's Manetti's confidence in his power that allows Chris to relinquish his. When the kid says he owns him, Manetti takes him at his word. He unfurls his fist, stretches his fingers deep into the kid's rectum, finds a new ring, swirls, charms, and enters his intestine. He straightens out the curve he finds, using his hand to reshape the boy under his care. He then almost pulls out, sphincter puckered to the extreme, then goes back in and rests just momentarily. He's traveled a great distance in those inches. Chris is undulating with libidinous hunger, but calms down when Manetti rests. He syncs to Manetti’s mastery. The man's palm is holding his prostate, holding it like it's resting in a hammock. As he rocks it gently, Chris is in ecstasy as if Manetti is rocking his soul. But Manetti doesn’t simply the boy's soul. He’s looking for the point where Chris will give up everything. That’s the ultimate power he seeks. He's probing the boy again feeling all his organs till he finds the pressure point he's looking for. Manetti's other hand grabs the boy's erect cock and a spray of piss erupts out of him. "Beautiful," says the director. Manetti first directs it toward himself, lets it splash in his mouth, noisily slurping down a few gulps and spits some out, then he points the stream back at Chris. Chris is out of his mind with sensation he's perceiving inside his body with the awareness that his pissing uncontrollably in front of a group of strangers, and being recorded doing it, and he's finding pleasure in the lewd act of primal degradation. He doesn't care, and that is incredibly erotic. He lets out a spontaneous, "Oh, fuck, Sir," as the stream hits his face and he greets it open mouthed. Manetti has pulled his hand back into a fist and is tugging at the inside of the kid's sphincter. He lets it sit at the extreme point of the stretch, pushes back in as far as he can, then yanks the fist completely out. Chris' hole flairs out with the camera capturing the red pedals of the freshly opened boyhole, the newly revealed flesh the world has never seen before. It's the first promise that a rosebud will bloom. Chris is convulsing wildly. Manetti stands, puts a hand on the kid's heaving chest, and with his other hand he's diddling, strumming his fingers against the boy's excited hole, doesn't want to lose the gape he fought for. Before Chris has a chance to come to his senses, Manetti's inserting three, and then four fingers back inside him. It tells Chris he's still open enough to keep fisting. Chris eyes him. Manetti has broken through something, for Chris says with clear intent, "Sir, destroy my pussy." "You want me to destroy your pussy, boy?" "Yes, Sir. I want you to give me a sloppy cunt." "You got a nasty mouth, boy." He sits back down on the stool, and there's a new lasciviousness that wasn't in Manetti before. He applies grease, a lot more grease, to his hand and some to his large hairy cock; black hair spotted with chunks of white Crisco. He also spreads some lube over his massive balls. He's back at the boy's hole with four fingers twisting around. His second hand joins the first with another swath of grease. They're sliding over each other and the rapid stimulation shows on the boy's face. He grabs for the poppers and takes a hit. His head releases back and he's now solely focused on his hole. He feels fingers sliding in and out. Pulling at his hole. Two fingers on each side pry him open, then three fingers on each side, then four. The hands pry his hole apart so hard they’re shaking. The inside of his hole feels like pudding, malleable flesh that submits to each stroke of Manetti's churning hands. One hand slips easily inside, then comes right out. The other hand disappears inside the kid's hole then reappears. Manetti's hand crunches into a fist and strains at Chris’ sphincter, trying to punch through. Chris leans his head forward and takes a couple more hits, and the fist punches in. The kid utters a loud moan. Manetti leans in, asks, "You okay, boy?" Chris answers, "Punch my fuckin' pighole." Manetti does, let's loose his fury. At first, one first in and out, then the other in and out. He's building up momentum until Chris is wailing in delirium. He pulls out a fist violently to watch the hole again flair open, this time much larger, almost the size of his palm. Chris' body shakes until Manetti puts a single finger on Chris gaping hole. He is in charge of that hole; he will tell it when it is allowed to have an orgasm. "Take more hits, boy." Chris does, and with a head clouded with poppers, Manetti resumes his repetitive punching, but now, Chris grabs his legs and pulls them to his chest, pulling his ass cheeks apart, begging to be Manetti's hole. Manetti obliges, inserting a fist and goes deep, pulling out quickly, then inserting a second fist in as far as it will go. It's not as rapid, but it’s a much deeper punch. Chris is not only taking it but continuing to pull his legs apart farther. In fact, he's taking his right leg with both arms and falling to his left side in the sling, moaning like a whore pushing his boy pussy obscenely out of the sling for Manetti to pummel. It's too much for Manetti seeing the boy in such a lewd pose. He needs to fuck this cunt right now, while he's in this state of abnormal delirium. He’s turned the kid into a whore and he’s the stud who gets the reward of fucking a possessed cunt! He grabs both of Chris' legs and pulls him forward in the sling. He stuffs his gaping hole with his cock, then pops one wiry ball in, then the other. He fucks him in short, staccato strokes. Chris is in rapture and eggs Manetti on, squeezing as much of his loosened sphincter as he can. What he lacks in strength he makes up in how extended his pussy has become. With his entire rectum he surrounds Manetti's genitals in a gelatinous, gluey grip. He knows—he feels!—Manetti's hairy balls are scraping against his bowels. He experiences Manetti gyrating inside him, perceives a iron erection stirring his entrails. Wanting him to cum in him, spread his dirty cum in his raw hole, he begs and pleads aloud for Manetti to breed him, to knock him up. Manetti pulls out completely. His balls swing freely dripping lube and other viscous droppings. His engorged cock plops out and slaps Chris’ balls. The kid jumps. Manetti likes what he sees, so he slaps his balls again with a greasy hand. Instead of retreating, the kid pushes his balls up toward Manetti's chest. The man grabs the kid’s balls and twists them till the kid cries in agony. With his other greasy hand Manetti smacks his ass, then plays with the boy’s hole, lowering him down. He takes the hand that smacked the kid's ass and penetrates him with it. The kid gasps, but accepts the hand immediately, starts squirming on it, becomes ravished by it. Manetti is in heat. He takes his dick and inserts it into the palm of the hand that’s inside Chris. It's far more girth then Chris has so far endured. You can see that in his strained face. But he's not rejecting it. His desire for Manetti overwhelms everything. He wants Manetti's to jerk off inside him, he encourages it with a slight rocking movement. When Manetti stops he realizes that Manetti wants to control his own hand job, so Chris completely submits, holds his legs apart so Manetti can do what he wants to him. Manetti observes the complete, utter subservience as does the camera. There's not much movement for you to see for a moment except in close-up of the hole. There's a rapid vibration only showing in the tendons of Manetti's wrist. He’s jerking his hand inside the hole. Manetti contorts his face as Chris watches in awe. He's getting close. Chris relaxes some muscles to encourage Manetti to use more of his insides to beat off. He's fisting his cock just as violently as he's fisting Chris' hole. The more Chris submits to Manetti's violet masturbation, the harder Chris realizes he's getting fisted. It's win-win. They're in perfect sync. Manetti is using long strokes to pleasure himself and Chris is writhing in pleasure. Manetti releases as Chris' eyes roll back in his head. Manetti's trained to show the money shot but he's locked into this moment of seeding this hole. He explodes, shoots deep into the bowels, sending his fist into the innermost depths. He pulls out very briefly to show cum leaking from his dick, but he's quick to get back inside, still jetting, smearing his dickhead around and around Chris' entrails. He squeezes every last drop out of his balls. He pinches his foreskin to not leave any semen behind. There both stare at each other. Manetti drips sweat onto Chris, who's also shining in heat. Manetti has a look of relief of a man who has given everything and held nothing back; Chris looks beatific, fulfilled—a bride inseminated. Manetti looks in his wide blue eyes, raises an eyebrow, and floods his hole with piss. Chris looks surprised, and states astonished, "You’re whizzing in me." Manetti pulls out for a second, pisses all over him, then reinserts himself. He flashes his famous shark tooth smile. Chris sends an identical shark tooth grin right back. "Cut," the director says.

Chris leaked when Manetti squeezed his dick. His still hard purple head was covered in spooge and Manetti wanted to torture the kid for a bit, polishing his nob, just cuz he could. The palm of his hand went back and forth as Chris squirmed in pleasure and pain under his control. “Stop! Nooo,” he laughed howling and thrashing. The wall phone in the kitchen immediately began to ring and light flood into their darkened room from across the airshaft. The light brought Manetti more in focus to Chris, breaking their intimacy slightly. As his mind settled back from his raging high, what they had just done started to frighten him a little. Manetti’s slimy cock slid out of Chris' ass like a fat slug. There was an audible 'plop' like a cork as it popped out of the grip of his sphincter, and he felt a small amount of liquid dribbled out his crack, down his tail bone and slide under his back. Manetti went into the kitchen and picked up the receiver and silently listened. "Thanks," he finally said. "Yes, he definitely has a hot pussy, Master," said Manetti into the receiver. The long phone cord allowed him to come back into the room talking. "We were that loud, huh?" He gave Chris an 'oops' look. "Well, I'm glad it enticed you, Sir." Manetti paused, then was quiet for quite a while, considering the proposal from the person on the other end of the line. He grew serious looking at Chris while the voice on the other end continued speaking. There was a pause on the other end, seeming to wait for Manetti to reply. Then the voice added a few words, which brought a smile to Manetti’s lips. "Well, we were probably going to bed, but I think our boy could be convinced otherwise. What do you say, Chief?" Manetti asked the bound boy covering the mouthpiece. "Up for a drop-by to my Master’s? Could be worth your while," he said rubbing his fingers together and wiggling his dark brows. "Even might be the beginning of a long term plan. A little for you, a cut for me, and the rest for Master. Maybe the plan you were looking for, Chief." Manetti’s teeth glowed in the light from across the airshaft. Chris gave him an I-don’t-know look in return. Frankly, he'd do what Manetti wanted him to do as long as Manetti was there. Back to the phone, he said, "Sure, the kid's psyched to meet you. We’ll come over right away." He paused. "Yes, Sir, I know what you like. I'll get him prepped just like that. Right, give us a little time then." Another pause, then a finger went up Chris’ hole. “Yep, he’s still wet but his hole is tightening.” Manetti sucked his finger smiling at Chris. “Sure, I have some G. Will do.” He went back into the kitchen and hung up. "Boy, to get through this night, I think we need to up your game." Manetti came back into the room and stopped by the bookcase and picked up the box with the orange tipped needles. He came over to Chris, who suddenly became alarmed, shook his head emphatically side to side. Manetti saw the kid stressing and put his hand on his face to reassure him. “Nah, Chief, nothing like that,” he said lifting out a little vial of liquid, putting a reassuring hand on Chris’ beating heart. “Only a couple of drops of G right now to prep you.” He took an eyedropper and counted out some drops in his water glass, swirled it around, and put the class up to Chris’ mouth. “What is it?” “Something that’ll take the edge of the booty bump I gave you. Makes you relax. Kind of like a warm bathtub. Nasty tasting though,” he broke into an evil grin. “But you like nasty, right?” Chris took a sip and made a face. “Yeah, I know. Here, I’ll take some too so we’ll be on the same planet, okay?” Manetti drank and made the same face as Chris. He got Chris to drink a little more. “Drink me, Alice,” Manetti said in a tiny voice. “You’ll need it to get through the door.” Chris gave him a blank look. “Never mind. Here, take this too. It’s a muscle relaxer. I think you’ll need it.” He put a white pill on Chris' tongue, and let him wash it down with a last sip from the glass. “Why do I need a muscle relaxer? Is he going to fuck me, Mike?” “Most definitely, he’s going to fuck you, buddy, and he’s a lot bigger than me, and I ain’t no small zucchini, am I?” “Oh shit.” Chris' head fell backward. “Yeah, but on the bright side look how hard you are. I gotta warn you though, if you come with me, Master Drax does believes in everyone slamming and doesn’t take no for an answer. So rule number one: never say no. He has lots of ways to make you say yes and they aren't any fun, believe me. Second rule: don't say 'I can't.' To him that translates to 'I won't.'" Chris looked trouble. Manetti went on, "Your Catholic so you'll get this: Saying no means he can always change your mind, so to him that's a venial sin. But refusing him outright, saying you won't? That's a mortal sin. And you don't want to do that. Ever. Got it?” “I think I wanna stay here, if that’s alright.” “You're scared of needles cuz of your ma, huh?” asked Manetti, with a note of compassion. “Your brother told me she was tasting even before Carl came sniffing around. He said last time he checked in with you guys, she was living with Carl, but she was married to her H.” “Can you untie me?” Chris asked. Manetti removed his cuffs and Chris slid out of the sling and sat on the futon crossed legged. He started looking around the room then looked at his boner. “Man, is this ever going down?” He tried to make a joke of it, but Manetti saw the G was making only a mild dent in his mood. He was playing again with himself, pinching his nipples, which seemed to be something new to him, was a tactic, thought Manetti, to try and take his mind off his family and this, Manetti saw, wasn't working. The Prior Puss was taking over the evening. Manetti knew he had to distract the kid for a while for the G to take full effect. “Hey, how’d you like me to shave you?" Chris perked up and looked at him curiously. "I shave Ben all the time and he loves it. It’ll really calm you down. It goes well with G too. Wanna try?" His caterpillar eyebrows wiggled. "I love shaving your brother.” “What do I do?” “Nothing but lie there. Just look pretty." Manetti went toward the bathroom. "Like you could ever not look pretty.” The words did their job and Chris laid down smiling. Manetti went in and made preparations. Chris lay there blushing and grinning to himself. He could see why Ben liked this guy. “But I like my bush,” he called out to Manetti in mock protest. He felt his small bush. Not much of one he had to admit. “You clip it, baby. Think it makes you look bigger, right? Ya’know you got nothing to be ashamed of.” He came back in with a bowl of water, shaving cream, and a straight razor. "I know you'll enjoy this." He sat next to Chris, and set out his wares. "Listen: Master Drax has special tastes. We're start with the simplest. He likes his new boys shaved. Everywhere." Manetti wrang out a wash cloth over the pan and soak the little bit of blond pubes Chris had. "You like keeping it short. But maybe you don't want them at all. Prefer to stay a boy." He sprayed foam in his hand and covered Chris' pubes. For pleasure or torture, he also coated his shaft and balls, massaging it in until Chris was squirming again in his hand. A few well-placed strokes of the razor and Chris' pubes were gone. He spent special time kneading his balls, flattening them out, squeezing them hard. Part pain and eventually part pleasure for Chris. "Lay your arms back." His pits were easy to shave. While on the second pit, Manetti said, "Man, how long since you showered, boy?" "A month, I guess." Chris was starting to float in his body. He succumbed the water and the warmth of the rag. With Manetti taking care of him, they were bonding closer. It was a feeling he didn't want to stop. "A month?" he asked incredulously. "Last gym class I took, I guess. After that I stopped going to school." "Well, no wonder you smell like a hobo." He gave a small laugh as he scraped the last of Chris' arm pit hair. "Master's probably gonna like your smell. Once I finish your butt, I should probably douse you with a finishing touch." Chris opened his eyes to see Manetti pretending to take a wiz on him. Chris mouthed silently, fuck, yeah, agreeing to whatever came into Manetti's dirty mind. "Up, Chief. Back in the sling." Chris got up slowly, then slunk back in the sling and put his legs in the stirrups. Manetti moved down below Chris' butt hole, pulled up a stool and started soaping his crack. To Chris, the feeling was sensuous; to Manetti it was salacious. He played with the boy's hole for a while, prying it apart with two fingers up and down, and then side to side. He spat in it and pulled some of his own cum out to use as lube. He stuck a finger deep inside, rubbing his prostate and generally feeling out the kid's hole. Chris head lolled to the side enjoying the sensations, looking up to the mirror occasionally catching Manetti brown head studying his anal anatomy. Soon, with a few deft strokes, his cheeks were soft and smooth. His purple hand prints were fading to pink. "Okay, hardest part. You're nicely stretched but I want you to remain totally relaxed." He took the straight razor and made micro-scrapes against the boy sphincter. Each stroke made the boy clench. He stopped for a moment, stood up, and smacked his ass hard. "I'm serious now, boy. Stop flinching or I'm going to slice you. I'm a lot more careful than Master would be, so you want me doing this, not him." Chris bit his lip. He liked when Manetti ordered him around, but he was apprehensive if he could keep his hole perfectly relaxed. "I'll try." "Rule three: there is no try, only do. Think Yoda. Seriously, I'm going to put this inside you," he said holding up the straight razor. "I'll be twisting it a full three-sixty. If Master finds even one hair in there I can guarantee you your ass is going to be a bloody mess when he's done. Trust me, I know. Picture my hole for a minute. Yours is a piece of cake." Chris felt the warm washcloth wipe the remainder of soap away. He then felt Manetti's tongue circle his hole, licking the edges then spiraling deep inside. It felt fantastic. His hole relaxed even more the deeper Manetti's tongue went. Then he felt the cool razor slide ever so gently and slowly into his hole. He concentrated on how relaxed he was under Manetti's spell, how much he liked him, put all his trust in him. Thought only of that. He felt the razor slowly twisted around his open hole. Six, then seven nicks of stray hairs he felt intensely as if they were being ripped out of him. Still he remained open. "Good boy. I'm coming out." The blade fell out slowly. It almost tickled. At the last moment of contact, however, he couldn't hold back a last minute flinch. The blade pricked him only slightly, but enough to draw a small trickle of blood. It stung and his sphincter went into delayed spasms, pushing some residual cum out his hole. Manetti lapped at it without without scolding him. His tongue was soothing though Chris knew blood, saliva and Manetti's cum was mixing in his wound. But the lapping tongue was hypnotic. Minutes went by silently. His sphincter stopped clenching and he lightly dozed off feeling Manetti tongue going on for eternity. Not caring what happened next. Remembering only Manetti's tongue lulling him to sleep. He would fall asleep every night like this if he was Manetti's. *** But he wasn't Manetti's. First one hand was pulled up and buckled in place. Then the other. Still he was content and floating like a baby in a swing. "Good boy. Now for your reward." From far away he heard the words and responded like he was still asleep. "What?" His words felt unnaturally slow coming out of him. "Wait." He realized his arms were again bound. "Wait. What...?" Through droopy eyes he saw Manetti take out a prepared point. "Just a small one, Chief. It'll put you in the right frame of mind to meet Master. He's expecting it." Manetti tied a rubber tourniquet around Chris' small bicep and began tapping the crook of his arm. It was pretty easy to find a vein on the skinny boy. He found a juicy one and told the kid to hold still or he might hurt him. Chris stopped squirming and watched with fascinated horror as the needle found it target. "Stick. Tell me if this burns." A swirl of red flooded into the vile and slowly Manetti unloaded the liquid into Chris' vein. The boy felt nothing immediately as Manetti withdrew the needle and pressed his thumb on the point of entry. His other hand unleashed the tourniquet, just as the boy coughed. Chris panicked. Manetti stood above him, his face easing into that large shark smile he'd had before. "That's it, my red blooded American boy." He watched the kid flush beet red, going through alternating phases. Panic turned to ecstasy, turned back to panic. "Just ride it. That's it. Enjoy it." "Too intense." Manetti leaned over Chris' face. He knew what would help the kid. He pushed his pec out to hover over his face, unleashing one of the boy's arms. Chris put his hand on Manetti's chest, felt the muscle flexing just for him. He caressed the hair, found the pierced nipple. Manetti bent even lower to the boy. Chris started sucking away, nursing like an infant, both metal and flesh. Chris looked up at Manetti and met the shark smile with one of his own. A smile shaded with a bit of evil he'd never let out before. He struggled to get up forgetting his other hand was still bound. Manetti helped him get it off. Chris buried his face in the man's chest, inhaling him, licking him. Put his face under Manetti’s armpit. Manetti took pleasure in letting him lick the pit, then helped him get up. Chris slid off the sling and began pacing around the bedroom murmuring fuck repeatedly. "How's that feel? You like?" Chris couldn't form any words but held up his thumb. "Go ahead and lay down. Enjoy the rush. Just ride it through." As he sat he fell back, feeling like he was falling down a rabbit hole, that the ceiling was rising above him, his vision was crossed and he felt the rush of euphoria jet through him. He was giddy, flush with excitement, he only wished Manetti's cock was back inside him. "Fuck," he grabbed onto the only words that made sense, confessing, "I feel like a little boy with you. I want you to molest me." He felt around his smooth, wet hole and stuck a couple of fingers inside. Manetti laugh. "You feel it don't you. Feel all those carnal urges you've buried. You want to suck a dog dick, don't you?" "Yeah. Big horse dick. Your dick. I want to be buried in cum. I want you to fist me like those guys are doing." He flicked his head at the TV where a black guy was punch fisting a young guy in a sling. "I want you to fist me like you and Ben fist. I want you to use dildoes on me and make me have a huge cunt like yours. I want you to fist me to your elbow and your armpit. I want to feel your hairy pit rub against my hole." "Looks like you like-y? And that's just a teeny bit. More to come at Master Drax." Manetti put the orange cap back on the syringe, and pointed the camera back on the boy as he rolled around feeling all his erogenous zones, spewing a watershed of perversions. Manetti left him to his pleasure, feeling his hole, pulling on his flaccid dick, tweeking his nipples, going at them all with abandon. He went over to the closet and pulled out chaps and put them on, then pulled out a chastity cage out of a drawer and put it in his pocket. He went into the kitchen where he took the metal lid off the bathtub. Fuck, he heard Chris repeating, unable to contain himself. He heard a never-ending stream of fucks and perverted ideas spewing out of the kid's mouth, that he wanted Jeff to fuck him, for Carl to fuck him. He wanted to have someone at work named Shakir cover him in Valvoline oil and fuck him. He wanted to get fucked in the gas station toilet. He wanted the gas station owner named Duke to fuck him from behind while he licked the urinal. “You think I stink, man? You should smell that toilet some time. It's righteous foul!” The kid had an imagination! He enjoyed how spun the kid was on such a little amount, how open he was to anything right now. As a test Manetti came back in the room and picked up a filthy jock strap, held it out for the boy to smell. "What do you think of this? It's your brothers." The boy sniffed it and then began to tear into it. He sucked it and his saliva made the jock wet and unlocked the odor of piss emanating from the stains. "You want to wear it over your face to meet Master? I know he'd love that. He's a nasty mother fucker like no one you've ever met." Chris was almost unrecognizable animal in his drug frenzy, nothing at all like he was when he first came in the door. He was so into it with the jock, it looked like he hardly heard what Manetti was saying. "Ya'know, you’re lucky I took your cherry. Master Drax wouldn't have been so gentle." "I don’t think," he managed to get out while chewing the jock strap, "that you were that gentle." He was high on piss fumes, high on the residual cum, reeling in lust sucking his brother's jock. He looked at Manetti like an idea had just struck him. "I liked it rough.” "I'll relay that thought, boy. C'mon, get up. You’re ready to meet Master. He's got a wide variety in his stable. The rougher, the more money he'll make off you. The less limits, the more we’ll all make. Think you'll like that?" Chris bobbed his head, agreeing to anything Manetti said to him. He sprung up and put the wet jock around his neck. Manetti steered him into the kitchen, told him to get in the tub. "You need a douse before we go." "Douse of what?" Chris asked, stepping in. "Master likes raunch, heavy raunch. Let's get you prepped and stinkin'. Open your mouth, pig. You know you want it." He hadn't thought about it but was susceptible to any suggestion coming from his idol. He laid down in the tub and opened his mouth. Manetti immediately covered him in piss, going up and down the kid's naked body. Chris ran his hands up over his torso like he was washing himself. He let out a low moan of pleasure. "Warm," he sighed. "Open." Chris stopped rubbing and opened his mouth, propping himself up on his elbows. Manetti took aim and hit his mark right on target. "Swallow." The boy obeyed. It was salty and bitter and came out of Manetti, so he guzzled the piss letting it splash in his mouth, and gulped it down into his stomach. "Good pig. You like that, pig boy?" Chris bobbed his head. Without prompting he leaned back and spread his legs to expose his hole to Manetti. "Okay, you fucking filth pig." With that, Manetti let a stream of piss hit his hole. Some went in and the kid pushed it out like a mini-geyser. "You stinkin’ fuck pig! Get up—you’re ready.” Chris scrambled getting up. They both stopped for a second regarding each other, listening to the remains of piss draining down the pipe. Two massive shark grins flashed between them. Manetti helped him step out of the tub; Chris' platinum hair yellow and flattened, his eyes electric.

Zero. I have not known the name of one man who has fucked me.

It is good to get home and have the ass juices of many guys on your dick; and also the cum of many others. That's why I love fucking well filled holes.

Another vote for feet, but I'm really more into used/sweaty boots/sneaks/sox. Love being face down buried in a guys sneaker or boot while he's using my ass. Decently sweaty socks are better than poppers for me. Because I'm "into" this and know guys who share the interest, it's not 'weird' at all (to me). If you're into this or curious, you might enjoy my Instagram Any guys in the UK also into this, DM me.

Last night, in La Guardia, before boarding a flight to Miami. Walked into the men’s room and catch the eyes of a flight attendant who gave me “the look”. I went to a stall near him, stroked my cock, and glanced at him. He moved to a stall in the busy bathroom and I followed when the coast was clear. Dropped his load in me in two minutes flat. Had a nice PA and I kept his cum in me the whole flight.

Part 5 We drove down the interstate, me again in the seat, naked except for my slave gear, on full view to anyone in a taller vehicle. We passed a couple semi trucks, the drivers laughing at me as Master made sure to pass them real slow, making sure they got a good view of his naked slave. I was embarrassed to be on such display, but also really turned on by this new humiliation. My cock pressed into its cage. As we passed a third semi, the driver grinned down at me and honked his horn while he gave a thumbs up. Master laughed and reached into the glove compartment, pulling out a note book and a pen. Handing them to me, he told me to write a certain message on it. I blushed when he told me, but didn't hesitate. I was too high and horny. I then held it up to the window. "Blowjob $5" it read. The driver motioned to pull over, and soon we followed the truck into a rest stop. Not the kind with bathrooms, just one on the side of the road for truckers to rest. Master got out and went to talk to the driver, then came and got me, leading me to the passenger door. I crawled in and he followed me. The driver was already in the back, waiting, a ten dollar bill in his hand. "I haven't nutted in a week, boy. Got two loads for your whore mouth!" the trucker stated as he handed Master the 10. Unzipping his fly, he fished out an already hardening cock. He reclined on the bunk in between the seats. I thought this was odd, but didn't have time to think as he grabbed my head and forced it into his crotch. I dove on his junk, taking his cock and balls into my mouth, and started sucking ravenously. He smelled like piss and sweat. The trucker moaned his approval as his dick hardened to a full 7 inches. I could feel Master tugging at the plug, removing it, and replacing it with his fat cock. "That's right whore," said Master, "suck that cock. You're a true whore now slut. And a cheap one at that." The trucker laughed as I moaned. "Suck him good bitch! Suck him like the $10 piece of trash you are!" I went crazy as Master said more humiliating things to me, degraded me. The trucker joined in the verbal abuse as he jackhammered his cock down my throat as Master fucked me hard. Soon the dirty trucker buried his cock deep in my throat, grinding his smelly pubes into my lips as he pumped a huge load into me. I choked and gagged, barely able to swallow. Master spanked my ass as the trucker fed me. After he came, he pissed a little in my mouth. But his cock didn't get soft. He started fucking my throat again, working toward number 2. Master kept fucking me and they both continued their nasty verbal assault. Eventually Master grabbed my hair and slammed my face into the trucker groin as he pumped another load into my cunt. Then as the trucker started his second orgasm, Master pulled me off and had the trucker shoot on my hair and forehead, coating my face. We all relaxed for a moment before Master told me to go back to the car. "Don't touch that cum, whore!" He demanded. "I want you to really accept the pig you are." The trucker laughed as I exited the truck. Master joined me in a few minutes, and we drove away. "You continue to amaze me boy. So far you've taken everything I've thrown your way. I know a lot is the drugs, but I still think you are a TRUE pig." I just smiled and whispered, "thank you Sir." As cum ran down my face, dripping onto my chest. "That guy says he travels this route all the time. Expect to see him again. (I did) But do you know what you did wrong, bitch? You didn't thank him for his cum. Major fuck up, whore!" I silently reprimanded myself for being forgetful. We traveled the rest of the way home in silence. Once back at the apartment, Master told me to relax on the bed for a while while he checked his messages. After a while he joined me. He took me into his arms and started kissing me, holding me tight. We made out for a while when Master said "Travis will be here in a couple hours. He says he has a surprise. In the meantime, relax for a while." We rested on the bed, Master snoozed, but I was too spun. After a couple of hours, the doorbell rang. I woke Master up, and he went to the door, shutting the bedroom door. I could hear some muffled voices, but not much. Soon Master came and led me by the leash into the living room. I could see two men. Travis, and a young kid, looked maybe 18. Travis was sexy, mid 20's, long brown hair. The boy was cute, skinny, kinda thug looking with his baggy pants and hoodie. They sat on the couch, passing a different pipe between them. "That's a crack pipe," Master explained. "Not for you, maybe one day." He handed me a drink. "There's G in there. Drink up pig!" I downed it quick, ignoring the taste. Master then pulled out his supplies, loaded his pipe, put 4 lines on a mirror, and snorted 2. "I changed my mind about no Tina on Sunday's. I have one quick meeting tomorrow, and I'm going to take tues off. This weekend has turned out to be way to special." He handed me the mirror, and I snorted as he lit the bowl. We all smoked our stuff as I got even higher. While we smoked, Master had me relate to the men everything I had done so far. Telling strangers all the nasty things I had done so far really worked me up. The guys pulled out their hard cocks and stroked them, as I drooled in anticipation. "So, the surprise, " said Master, "is that when Travis gets rock, he becomes a fuck machine. By the end of the night your ass will be raw!" The guys laughed and high fived. "And Joe here, he's never played with a slave. I promised him a night he wouldn't forget! Show them your pussy boy! On your back! Travis, pull that plug out." I moaned as I displayed myself lewdly and gasped as Travis pulled out the plug. The men whistled at my puffy, red hole. Travis stuck his finger into a bag of cocaine and rubbed my anal ring with it. I could feel it turn numb. He stripped, and with no ceremony crawled between my legs, spit on his fat cock, and plunged it in. I squealed as he grabbed my thighs and jackhammered my ass. Joe just stared as Travis used me. "He'll do ANYTHING he's told to do." Said Master. "He's a true pig in training." I just floated in space as yet another cock pummeled my pussy. Soon Joe wanted a turn, so I was placed over the couch so he could fuck me while I sucked Travis. Master just kicked back and watched the show as he smoked a cigar. The guys used me hard, pounding me in their coked up state. Eventually we moved to the bedroom. Travis laid on the bed and made me straddle him. As I sat all the way on his fat cock, Joe moved in and placed his own 6 incher at my opening. While Master filmed, he pressed into me alongside Travis. I groaned loudly as the two cocks slid in and out of my hungry gash. They double fucked me deep and hard for at least 20 minutes until Travis went rigid and started spasming as he shot his cum in my dumphole. Soon Joe followed suit, giving me his hot sperm. They pulled out and I cleaned them off. We all collapsed on the bed in a sweaty pile. After a few minutes, Master retrieved the party supplies from the living room, and more smoke was had by all. "So Joe," said Master, "you enjoying my slave so far?" "Oh yea. Fucking hot!" "Well we have all night. And the cunt here has fucked up again." "Oh shit!" I thought. "I didn't thank them for their cum. Damnit!" Master saw my face. "That's right whore, that's 3 Major infractions. You will learn! I'm going to let these boys punish you as they see fit." I could see Travis and Joe grinning in anticipation. "First though, we need a piss boy." With that I was dragged into the bathroom, into the tub. Without hesitation, Master shoved his semi hard cock up my hole. As Travis put his cock in my mouth and started pissing, Master pissed up my ass. I took piss in both of my cumholes while Joe pissed all over me. After Master pulled out, he grabbed a clear tumbler and ordered me to empty my bowels into it. Soon it was filled with cloudy, brownish liquid. Master ordered me to drink it while they chanted, "Pig! Pig! Pig!" I wretched as I choked it down. But I swallowed it. Then it was back to the bedroom. I was quickly set up in the sling and tied securely. Nipple clamps were attached with chains going over the top of the bed. Weights were then attached to the chains, painfully pulling my tits. "Ready for some pain, slut?" Asked Joe. "I've been looking forward to this!" With that I was tightly gagged and given poppers. Then Joe took a riding crop and gave me 10 swift hard blows right on my balls. I screamed bloody murder, but was defensless. As I jerked in the sling, the weights swung around, viciously pulling my nipples. Travis took the crop next and administered 10 hard blows right on my already sore hole. Tears flowed from my eyes as I screamed more into the gag. Then they each took a candle and dripped hot wax all over my body. My chest, stomach, nipples, soles of my feet. I cried and thrashed, but still found the pain arousing. Then they dripped it on my balls, coating them. Next was my cock. The cage had opening to piss and for air. They filled it up as I tried to beg for mercy. They just laughed. More weights were added to the chains, then they dripped it onto my asslips. I poured sweat as I screamed even more, the clamps pulling harder. My poor cunt burned like a son of a bitch. Then they stopped. They quickly peeled the wax off my ass lips. Joe stuck his cock in me, and i whimpered. Master took pics while Joe showed no mercy on my abused hole. More drugs ensued and the two men fucked me literally non stop for an hour and a half in their crack fuled lust. My cunt barely regeristing the fucking, I was so high and loose at that point. They both finally dumped two more loads in my numb sperm bank, then finally called it a night, thanking Master profusely for the entertaining evening. After they left, Master examined me closely. "No damage whore, just a really well used dump. You're fine." After releasing me from the sling, we rested in silence for the next several hours. But not before Master reminded me we still have one day left for my birthday. Could I take more? I hoped so.

Part 3 "First things first." said Master. "Go into the bathroom boy. There are clippers on the counter, and razors and shaving cream in the cabinet. I want you hairless from the neck down. I'd help you, but it's tedious, and it's a slave's responsibility to keep himself hairless at all times. And I have other things to do. I give you EXACTLY 30 minutes from the moment you enter the bathroom. When you are done, you will find me and present yourself wearing your slave gear. First lesson. When you present yourself, you will kneel, legs spread, and hands clamped behind your head, head bowed." "Yes Sir!" I said jumping off the bed. Luckily I wasn't very hairy so it hopefully wouldn't take long. I grabbed the clippers and went to work. I worked as quickly as I could and was soon totally smooth. I replaced my slave items and ran to the living room, presenting myself as ordered. "33 minutes." said Master. "I gave you 30. This will be noted." "I'm sorry Sir!" I replied. "No boy. To apologize is to make an excuse. If you fail at a task and I tell you so, you simply reply "yes Sir."" "Yes Sir." I replied, disappointed that I had displeased him, even minorly. Master then felt my body all over, especially my ass, looking for any missed hair. "You did a good job boy, that pleases me. Now we will shower. You will follow me on you hands and knees. You will shower first. You have 2 minutes to thoroughly wash your body. Then I will step in and you will wash me. I'll instruct you how when I get in there. When we finish, there is 1 towel. You will thoroughly dry me off, then you may dry yourself. Eventually I'll teach you to shave me, but not today. Then we brush our teeth and get dressed. I have clothing items that I hope fit you. Understood?" "Yes Sir!" I replied and I followed him into the bathroom. The shower went smoothly and I crawled after him into the bedroom. Master started rummaging through the closet, pulling out various items. "What size waist are you boy?" "32 Sir." "Well damn it. My last two slaveboys were 30. These will be too small. Oh well, I was going shopping anyway. Your regular jeans will do till then. This will fit though." he said tossing me a leather harness. I put it on, loosening the buckles a little. Master put on jeans, a black tee shirt and a biker jacket and sat on the bed. "Fetch my boots boy and put them on for me. Then kiss each one. Then go put on your clothes except your tee shirt and present by the door." "Yes Sir!" I said, starting into the living room. "Hands and knees boy!" Master barked. "I didn't give you permission to walk!" I dropped to my knees instantly, angry again at myself for my error. I fetched Masters boots, put them on, kissed them, and crawled back to my clothes. I quickly dressed and presented at the door. Master attached a leash to my collar and said, "Stand up boy, lets go. You will follow behind me at all times." He led me a couple blocks to a local gay restaurant, where he of course knew everyone. "A new one Frank?" asked the waiter as he approached the table. "Yup. And it's his birthday too." Replied Master. "Just breaking him in as of last night. If your free after 6 we should be back by then if you want to help out." Back by then I thought to myself. Wonder where were going? But I knew better than to ask. "Nice." replied the waiter. "Always happy to help a friend out! I can probably round up at least a couple more if you like." My horny ass twitched on the plug hearing this. I never imagined a weekend like this in my life! "How many so far?" "6, two were mine. And Big Ben has already been in there." "Damn! You ARE breaking him in. Got him spun?" " Of course." Frank laughed. "And why do you think I brought him here? I knew you worked Sundays and I wanted you to see my new toy." I blushed a bit as the men talked about me like an object. But I had told Master I wanted to be his slave. "So we'll have 2 large OJ, fruit and scrambled eggs. You gotta force yourself to eat boy when you do tina, even though your not hungry." Master said as the waiter left. We ate our food, and I did have to force mine down, then went back to the apartment to wait till the leather store opened. I stripped as soon as I walked in the door, which made Master smile. He snapped and pointed to the sofa, and I sat on the floor while he retrieved something from the bedroom. He returned with the baggie and a glass pipe. "I'm going to teach you how to smoke it now boy. I won't show you because I never partake on Sundays cause of work. But you have an extra day, and you'll be happy I kept you high." Master loaded a big load and taught me how to do it. 8 big hits later and I felt ready to take on the world. "Get dressed and present at the door." was all Master said. I did, remembering to crawl this time. He led me out the door to his car, instructing me to sit on the floor. We drove to the leather/sex store and he led me inside. Of course it did not surprise me when he was greeted by name. "Hey Frank." said the old queen behind the counter. He recognized me as I frequently shopped there myself for poppers and lube and such. He flirted with me every time, but I'm sure he flirted with everyone, hoping for some action. But he was old, overweight, and generally not attractive. "A new one? About time someone caught this little tease!" "Nice catch Frank." said one of the other people working. He was a sexy bear. The third employee was his boy, a smaller, younger version of him. "What can we help you with?" asked the old queen, looking at me lasciviously. "Lets start with a chastity cage. Something for long term that can be hidden fairly easily." Replied Master. My heart leaped. Long term? Did I just bite off more than I can chew? But I said nothing. The twitching in my ass told me I wanted this. Why dont we take a couple options into the dressing room? We probably need some assistance." My heart beat faster as I realized the old queen was about to see my tiny tina dick. "Of course, gladly." Replied the old queen taking three devices out of the case. " This may take a bit." He said to the bear. The bear just smiled as we were led to the back dressing rooms. Once inside Master ordered me to drop my pants. I did, but slowly, feeling humiliated. "Tiny little dick, isn't it" Said the queen. "He's high as fuck right now. Breaking him in. It isn't always this small. How big is your cock when its hard boy?" "About 6 1/2 inches Sir." I replied meekly. "Well I think this one will be perfect. The cage is 3 inches long and easy to press down and hide. Comfortable to wear, but painful if he gets an erection. Shall I put it on him?" "By all means." Said Master. The old queen fondeled and manipilated my cock and balls, obviously enjoying it. Eventually it was all together, locked, and the key handed to Master. "I think I'll start with a week. If your a good boy, I might let you cum. Now, I think this man deserves a tip for his excellent service. On your knees boy!" I hesitated, looking at Master with disbelief. "You heard me, slave." I slowly sank to my knees, utterly humiliated that I was about to be made to suck off this gross man. Both men just leered down at me as I slowly unbuckled his pants and unzipped his fly. I pulled down his pants and underwear to reveal a dick that looked like mine right now. I had to duck under his belly to even get it in my mouth. I started sucking, at least he was clean, and it started to grow. At full hardness it was about 4 inches. It didn't even reach near my throat. I sucked him as best I could, hoping to get this over with. "I bet you never imagined you'd ever have my dick in your mouth, did you? You little slut." Sneered the queen. "Bet you thought you were too good to serve a man like me didn't you? Well your Master is proving otherwise. He'll teach you your place, you dirty little whore. Suck me bitch. Eat my cum!" I wanted to cry, I felt so degraded. But the strangest this was, my dick got hard a little bit. Being degraded and humiliated was turning me on more than I ever thought. The nastier the queen talked to me, the harder I sucked his cock. "That's right bitch. Suck it like the nasty little cock whore you are!" He demanded. "You are nothing but a dirty, slutty, nasty, cumdump. Take my cum you worthless bitch. Swallow it like the piece of trash you are! EAT IT BITCH!" He yelled at me as he flooded my mouth with a surprisingly large load. My cock got hard and strained against it's new cage as he grabbed the back of my head and pushed it into his groin, pumping his load into my mouth. When he finished, he pushed me off and said to Master, "Thank you for that." "And what do YOU say boy?" "Thank you Sir." I said, looking up at the queen. "Thank you for your cum." The old queen just laughed at me as he left the room. "Stay here boy." Master ordered me, leaving the room. Shortly he returned with the bear who was carrying a pair of leather shorts, the kind that zipped down the front and up the back. "Try these on boy." He said, handing them to me. They were a perfect fit. "So you said you're breaking him in?" asked the bear. "How many so far?" "Just 6 so far, and 2 are mine. But I've got him high as hell and horny as fuck. He'll be getting more today." "Excellent." said the bear, unzipping the back of my shorts. "Well of course I'm happy to contribute." The bear dropped his pants to reveal an almost already hard cock. " Hey boy!" he shouted. "Get in here!" The bear pulled the plug out of my ass as his boy entered the dressing room. " I've got a treat for you boy. We've got a brand new slave here getting broken in. I'm going to let him suck you off while I fuck him." The boy dropped his pants, revealing that he too was in chastity. "It's been a month for him this time, and he's been good. So what the hell. What's better than making a new slave suck off another slave?" The bear slid his cock into my hole as he handed his boy the key. The boy freed his cock and stuck it in my mouth. It didn't take long to get hard. I sucked it as hard as I could while the bear jackhammered my slavehole. Master just smiled watching me take two cocks for him for the first time. Not surprisingly the boy didn't take long to cum at all, soon filling my mouth with his copious load. I greedily swallowed it down. The bear fucked me hard and fast for probably 2 more minutes before he buried himself and pumped a fresh load into my increasingly slutty cumhole. "Clean my dick boy." he ordered his own slave. The boy sucked the cum and ass slime off his Master's cock, then locked his own back up. "I got him trained well." said the bear. "Thank you Sir's." I said. "Thank you for your cum." "Mines learning quick." said Master. "He's going to be good." We all pulled and zipped up our pants and left the dressing room. Master paid for his purchases, and as we left the old queen shouted, "Come back soon! We LOVE it when you bring your boys shopping with you." Master just laughed. We got in the car and started driving out of town.

Thanks to all the guys that enjoy my stories. I'm sorry I don't add chapters more quickly, and I haven't totally abandoned my other stories either. Sometimes it's hard to get motivated, but tonight I am, lol. Blown some clouds, shoved a nice shard up my ass followed by a nice sized plug, tied up my cock and balls real good, and clamped my nipples, got some good ole T.I.M.playing, (Christian and Ian Jay are probably my favourite cumdumps!)....so I'm ready to add a chapter or two! Part 2 Master went to the closet and started taking a few things out. "Do you trust me boy?" he asked. "Yes Sir." I replied. Even though I had just met him, I was totally under his spell and would do ANYTHING to please him. "Good boy!" he smiled as he started hanging a sling onto his bed. As soon as it was up he had me climb in it and quickly had me secured. Then he took earplugs and inserted them into my ears. This was followed by a heavy leather mask with a mouth gag which he tightened around my head. In a matter of minutes I was imobile, unable to see, hear or speak. Master left the room for a while, I have no idea how long, time was irrelevant. Eventually I suddenly felt fingers pulling the plug out of my ass, leaving me temporarily empty. Then I felt fingers entering my hungry hole, quickly followed by that burning sensation again and I knew another shard had been shoved into me. This was followed by what I knew was a dildo. It wasn't super thick, but it was very long, and I moaned and writhed as I felt it go deep inside me, past my inner sphincter. Master pulled it in and out, pushing it further and further each time untill I swear it must have been in my stomach. I just moaned like a slut while my soft dick leaked and leaked. After probably 30 or so minutes of this, he pulled it out and replugged me. Then I was left alone for a while. The next thing I felt were fingers again pulling out the plug being quickly followed by something else being inserted. I knew it wasn't another dildo, it was a real cock. But I could tell it wasn't Master's cock, It was someone elses, and I couldn't do anything to stop it! But I also didn't care. It was a cock and my ass was hungry. Being high and deprived of my senses concentrated all my attention to my needy slave hole. And if Master wanted someone to fuck me, who was I to refuse? I just let go and enjoyed the fucking I was getting, using my ass muscles to give as much pleasure as I could, squeezing and sucking as hard as my horny fuckhole could. I must have been good because he didn't last too long before he buried himself and went ridged and I knew he was dumping his load into me. After my slave cunt sucked every last drop out of him, he pulled out, and I felt empty and sad. But then the plug was reinserted and I was left alone for a while. Eventually again fingers pulled the plug out and another cock entered me, again not Master's! It was bigger than the last one, but not as big as Master's. He fucked me for a long time, I have no idea how long, felt like an hour but couldn't have been. He found the exact spot on my prostate that caused me to moan the loudest and my dick to leak the most, and pounded it relentlessly. Over and over he hit the one spot untill I was screaming into the gag from uncontrollable pleasure. Eventually he shot his load deep in my guts, adding to Master's and the previous fucker. After he pulled out the plug was not replaced, instead another dick started fucking my increasingly sloppy hole. He was a little smaller than the last guy, so I had to work my ass muscles on him untill I milked his load out and into my guts. He pulled out and I could feel cum leaking out of my open hole. Then another cock immediately filled my greedy dumphole. This one took me by surprise. He was larger than Master, probably the largest cock I had taken in my life at that point, but it was hard to tell. All I knew is I howled as he buried himself balls deep in one mighty thrust. In spite of the drugs, and all the previous fucking, he stretched my hole and made it hurt. But I could nothing but take it, and take it I did! Someone held poppers under my nose and I desperately inhaled several times. Soon my head was spinning and my ass was loving the assault it was getting. And what an assault it was! This guy knew how to use his massive weapon. He'd alternate between long, slow strokes, burying himself as deep as he could, rotating his hips so he could really open me deep inside before pulling out and slamming back in as hard as he could, fucking me hard and fast for a few minutes before repeating the process. And he kept this up for a LONG time. I was given poppers several times during his fuck, keeping my ass loose and receptive to his abuse as he litterally fucked me into oblivion! I was seeing stars as every nerve exploded in the one place aware of pleasure, my busted open hole. I could barely stay conscious as he fucked me for an eternity before finally dumping what I'm sure was a huge load far into my bowels. After he pumped all he could into me he collapsed onto me, our sweaty bodies sticking together, and just breathed deep for a while before finally pulling his softening cock out of my now very official slave cumpdump hole. A plug was inserted and I could barely feel it as it past my overly stretched out asslips. Then I was alone again, left to contimplate everything that had transpired tonight. After a while, I felt hands at my head as Master removed the mask, then the earplugs as I slowly readjusted my senses. He pulled out the plug and said "Push boy. Push out the cum. I want to see it pour out of your beautiful rosebud." And I did as told, expelling all the cum I possibly could. Master held up a cup with the creamy brown liquid. There had to be at least an 1/8 of a cup of cum and ass juice. He stuck his fingers into my mouth and pulled my jaw open. Holding the glass over my mouth, he slowly poured the gooey contents into my mouth, scraping the sides of the glass with his finger and wiping it on my tongue, before closing my mouth. I didn't have to be told to swallow, I knew. Master then helped me out of the sling and onto the bed. After taking down the sling he laid down on the bed, holding his rock hard cock straight up. "Sit boy!" he commanded. I straddled his hips and placed his fat mushroom head against my sore lips and moaned as I slid all the way down him, settling my puffy hole against his rough pubes. "Work my cock boy!" he ordered. "Make me cum with that talented fuckhole!" I worked my wore out ass as hard as I could, trying to please him. "I was so proud of you tonight boy. You show the makings of a good slave. Those were four of my friends that used you tonight. I called several people and told them I had a new cumdump slave that needed breaking in. I called more, pity more couldn't have made it. Instead of 4 annonymous loads, you could have had 8 to 10. But one day. And thats my favourite part. You will never know who they were. But they all knew you! Now everytime you go out to a leatherbar, you will wonder just who there bred you without your knowledge. When I talk to my friends, you will always wonder, "Is it your cum that was dumped in me?" I moaned at this realization, knowing people I didn't know, that know me, now know I'm a slaveboy cumdump. My tina dick got a little hard at that thought. "And you were a lucky boy tonight. That last guy is one of the best tops in the city. I was surprised he was available. He's hit on you before, but you've turned him down. See what you've been missing? You can thank me boy. Say, "Thank you Master for allowing him to breed my slavecunt. Say it!" "Thank you Master! Thank you for allowing him to breed my slavecunt Sir" "Good boy. Now thank me for letting my other friends breed your piggy cumhole." "Thank you Sir for letting your friends breed my piggy cumhole" "Now boy," he said as he started pinching and twisting my nipples, causing my ass to go crazy on his cock, "tell me what a filthy little whore you really are. Tell me you REALLY want to be my slaveboy. Beg for it!" He placed poppers under my nose again, three hits on each side, then attacked my nipples with force. "SAY IT BITCH!!" "God yes Sir!" I shouted as my still hungry ass milked his cock as hard as it could. "Please let me be your boy, your slave, your cumdump. Use me for your pleasure Sir! I beg you! I've never wanted anything more! Make me your little piggy! I want it so bad!" I continued to plead and beg as his nipple work sent my already sex and drug fuled mine into overdrive. I spilled every dirty fantasy I ever had, promising him I would be the nastiest, dirtiest, piggiest, most depraved slave for him. I begged him to use me, train me, fuck me, loan me to his friends, rent me out if he wanted, I'd be a whore for him. The more I begged, the harder he tortured my nipples. The harder he tortured my nipples, the dirtier I got, begging for him to do the most disgusting to me that he wanted. Finally he let out a growl as he shot another load into my well used hole before pushing me off and plugging me up again. "Thank me for my cum boy. Every time you receive your Master's cum, or anyone else your ordered to, you will be thankful for it. Understood boy?" "Yes Sir!" I panted. "Thank you for your cum Sir!" "I can tell you're going to be a good slave." he smiled at me. "And look, the suns just coming up. We have two whole days of your birthday yet. And I have plenty of ideas!" I suddenly got a little bit nervous as to what I had REALLY gotten myself into.

Years ago, back when I was in my early 20's I discovered a Park/Rest Area that was located right on Lake Michigan between East Chicago and Gary Indiana. I n the Men's Rest Room there was a Trough style Urinal and 2 fully enclosed toilets. I noticed that there were two glory holes leading into the first toilet stall from the urinal side, then I found out there were two more glory holes between the two toilets. The first toilet door was lockable once inside, but the other toilet stall wasn;t lockable and on the door leading into the first toilet stall there was a statement that said: This is the Cocksucker & Bottom Stall. So, I went out to my car, grabed my new fresh bottle of poppers and acouple of soda's and went in and locked myself into that stall. I was there like 10 minutes when I noticed a black guy standing at the urinal. I watched as he stroked his dick and didn't piss. I couldn't see his face, but he must have been looking towards the glory holes, cause when I rubbed my finger along the bottom of one of those glory holes, in popped his Dick, which I immediately began to Suckle. As I Sucked this guys Dick, I heard other guys coming in. They were all asking the guy I was Blowing if there was a Good Cocksucker in there, and I could hear him telling them, Yeah, he's Pretty Good and I think he's a White Boi too. Soon, those two glory holes behind me and the other one next to me were filled with big hard black dicks. By the time I was through, I had Sucked Off 67 Dicks 3 of witch were Latino Dicks and 2 were White Dicks, with the rest being Black Dicks and I Swallowed every Load. That was the First Time I went there, the Second Time, I Sucked Off 43 Dicks, but the Third Time I went there, I spent 15 hours in the Cocksuckers Stall and ended up Sucking Off 109 Dicks. I kept going back there, it was like a guarantee that I'd get to Suck Off at least 25 to 30 Dicks per visit, until one day I pulled up and there were bulldozers and such. There are Condominiums there now!