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This is my first try at writing a story. I have been so blessed and turned on by the gifts others have given us in their stories, their time and imagination, I thought I would try and do the same. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Part one, the background... I grew up the youngest child of a conversative preacher. There was quite a difference in age between my age and that of my siblings. My siblings were also different from me as they also were quite smart and outgoing, and were, like my parents, darkly complected. In contrast I was different as I was shy, naive, trusting, polite, tall, blond, blue. Occasionally someone would tell me I was very handsome and well built, but I knew I was clearly not the brightest kid around, particularly as more than once I was teased about my lack of brain power. I was, however, great in sports and was confident my athletic abilities would get me a scholarship to get away so I could make something of myself. After my Dad took off with a woman from his church, things turned rough for us. My Mom was the talk of the town, utterly devastated by my Father's duplicity. Not surprisingly she retreated into herself. The familial turmoil didn't affect my siblings to the degree it hit me as they were all older, done with college and moved away and had families of their own., so I found myself looking outside of my family for a sense of balance, and I found it in a neighbor who lived just down the street. Mr. C. was a single man, and, aside from having the nicest house, nicest cars, owning several pizza stores, and seemingly having and endless stream of sexy women visitors, the guy was my idol. He even looked like me I always thought, so I fantasized about me having his life. My Dad always talked badly about him, but Mr C was always super nice to me when I would ride by on my bike or stop and talk to him. Mr. C had told me a few times that once I turned 18, I could work at one of his pizza places making deliveries and helping out with clients. Things started to look up. I had been held back one year so I was just starting my senior year in high school and it was my 18th birthday and then I got the letter I had hoped for: a full athletic scholarship to the state university and a cherished full ride scholarship to play hockey and track and field for them. While in high school I had been a really good left defense man, and, after running high hurdles and pole vaulting to new heights, I held the state record, so when one quite warm Saturday afternoon in early summer shortly after graduation I received the letter from the state university offering me an athletic scholarship, I was on top of the world - only for my Mom to announce she was broke. Immediately realizing I would need to find a job to make some money to spend while at school, I recalled Mr. C’s offer to work for him, so I quickly biked down to his house, panting heavily from the exertion of biking in the heat, and, having dropped the bike, I did a dog trot to his back yard where I found him shirtless, cleaning his pool. I had never seen him without a shirt so I was startled to realize his well-developed chest was covered with a thick coating of fur, and his nipples - well can I say? They were absolutely huge. I was so startled, in fact, I found myself involuntarily staring at his chest for several seconds, long enough, in any event, Mr. C. snapped his fingers and said “Pup, Pup, what’s going on? Why are you staring?” A slight digression. My nickname growing up was 'pup' because although I was shy and kind of awkward, I was always so eager and happy to see my friends, which led someone to announce I acted like an excited puppy.... so the nickname 'Pup' stuck. Back to my story, I apologized and said “I am sorry Mr C., I don’t mean to stare, but I always thought you would be smooth and your nipples are huge.” He laughed and asked “Why would you think that, Pup?” Turning beet red I replied "Well, I always thought of myself as a junior version of you, but I'm as smooth as a melon." Chuckling he responded "Yes, well, sorry to disappoint, and yes, I'm sure your nipples are not like mine." I blushed more but responded "Well, your fur is awesome actually and for the nipples, mine are certainly bigger than anyone else’s in gym class, but no, they are not like yours, but I do play with them a lot.” His eyes wide Mr. C. asked "You what, Pup?" My face downcast in embarrassment, and my cheeks flushed a bright shade of red, I managed to reply "Oh, sorry, I sometimes just blurt things out. I shouldn’t have said that. I am sorry Mr. C., but since Dad took off, and all my brothers have moved out of the house, I don't generally have anyone to talk to about things so I tend to forget my filter. Again, sorry. That was definitely TMI." He put his pool cleaning equipment down, walked over to me, and, placing two fingers under my chin, raised my head up, saying "Lukas, look me in the eyes." Complying, his beautiful blue eyes locked onto mine when, with quiet intensity he said “I'm always here to talk to.... about anything,” giving me a smile that reached his eyes. Still locked by his beautiful eyes, a wide cheesy grin blossomed on my face. Approving, Mr. C. ran his fingers through my hair murmuring "You're a good pup. I'm glad to see you smile." Now feeling a bit less awkward, I asked if I could help him and maybe chat with him for a few minutes. "I can always use a helper, Lukas. This pool demands a lot of work." Following his example, I peeled my shirt off and couldn't help but notice he was taking in my chest, so I wasn't not particularly embarrassed when he commented "You know, Lukas, you are right. Your pecs are impressive. It looks all that time in the gym over the summer has done well by you.” "Thanks, Mr. C., I've been working out a lot, and while initially thought the effort would be pointless, after a few weeks even I could see what was happening." Then, taking a deep breath and after a moment of silence to collect my thoughts, I continued asking “Mr. C, do you remember saying that.... well saying maybe.... well maybe I could work at one of your stores when I turn 18?” "Yes, I do, Lukas," Mr C. replied with a noc. "Well today is my 18th birthday and I got accepted to the State University next fall with a hockey and track and field scholarship and really will need some money." Stepping over to my location, Mr. C. gave me a high 5 and then surprised me by lifted me off the ground, which was no small feat as I was 6’2”, but I guess as he had two or three inches on me, and his build was impressive, he had little trouble lifting me. Afterwards he put me back on my feet, and, placing his hands on either side of my face, he pulled me in for a hug and, possibly, a fatherly kiss on my forehead. “I knew you could do it Lukas. I am so proud of you.” It says volumes that Mr. C. was the first person to congratulate me on the scholarship. My Mom hadn't even given much of a response, so it's understandable I found myself grinning ear to ear, basking in the pride Mr. C. emanated. "Pup, did you know I played defense on the hockey team at the State University when I was in undergrad?” “Awesome, I had no idea,” I responded. “Yeah, actually I saw my old Coach Tony in town a few weeks ago. He mentioned he was in town to interview you,” Mr C said. “Wow, really? What a small world it is,” I said. “Yep. I told him, you are a great kid and you work really hard to really please him, the donors and the school." ”Holy cow Mr. C. Thank you so much. I am not sure how I could ever repay you." Mr C. smiled as he assured me "Pup, I know you will not disappoint me. And about the job, hey, what would think of coming to work for me now that you are 18?” It was now my turn to hug him, saying “Gosh Mr C, this is the best day of my life. Thank you so much." "The day is just getting started. I had someone quit last night. It might not seem like much of a gift, but if you could work tonight, it would really help me out." A huge smile on my face I replied "Are you kidding Mr. C? This is the best gift I could ever have received. Of course I will.” Giving me a warm but brief hug, Mr. C. responded "Oh, Pup, we will see if there isn’t another special and wonderful gift waiting for you later.” Hearing that, I hugged him even tighter and then broke the hug and helped him finish cleaning the pool. When we were done and putting the tools away Mr. C. commented "Show up at the store on Front Street at 5:00 PM. I'll meet you there and have a uniform for you." Hearing his message, however, I was somewhat dismayed and answered, "Oh, crap, Mr. C. I don’t have a car." “No worries, son. We'll take my car, and you can use it until you get one. Meet me here at 4:30." I got on my bike, and before riding off replied "Yes Sir. See you at 4:30, Mr C.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Next, part 2. My first night on the job and learning the ropes. I promise.... the gifts of the job offer and other goodies will soon be unveiled.

I can't decide if this is a legitimate request for perspective and knowledge or if it's bait to start what would very easily descend into a very heated argument over stigma and semantics. "Was it worth it?" Was what worth it? Are you asking about the initial transmission of HIV or are you asking if not seeking treatment and allowing HIV to progress unhindered to the point where an AIDS diagnosis is given? Either way, I know I personally wasn't gambling the pleasure of a particular situation against the risk of contracting HIV, and my decision to stop taking antiretroviral therapy was a conscious one made after much deliberation and with full understanding that AIDS was an inevitability if I continued to abstain from meds. It was three-and-a-half months after my 18th birthday that I started dating the man who, as I came to discover much later, intentionally gave me the virus without my knowledge. In the spring of 1993, having enlisted in the US Navy and tested into the nuclear program, I received a call back to MEPC to speak with the Chief Medical Officer, who relayed to me that my tests had come back positive for the HIV virus, and as such, my oath and enlistment were revoked. He told me I wasn't eligible to serve because active military personnel must be able to donate blood to other soldiers or to civilians in times of war. By the time I tracked down my (by then) ex-boyfriend, he had infected 11 other young men and had committed suicide rather than endure the pain of a slow death from AIDS complications. I was surreptitiously infected with HIV so long ago that I have lived more years with the virus than I'd lived without it. All of the important little psychological finishing touches that happen as adolescent males become mature into fully grown adults were shaped by the stigma and shame surrounding my diagnosis. Fast forward 25 years, past two failed suicide attempts and the deaths of most of the friends and acquaintances I'd known from back then. Perhaps you can understand the state of mind I was in when I decided one day to stop taking HIV meds and just let the virus do what it would until the end finally came. An end, I might mention, that I'd been anticipating for most of those 25 years, coming to terms time and time again with the eventual reality of a death much like the agonizing, humiliating one you describe in your post. When you've had that long to ponder such an end, even trying twice to beat Death to the punch, the concept of dying becomes much less frightening. Last January (2017), I had been off of all HIV medications for 4 years. An unfortunate run in with the flu motivated me to visit an Urgent Care, where they discovered my CD4 count was down to only 30. Soon thereafter I developed a case of thrush, which led to another visit with a doctor for the necessary prescription. Thiat time I walked out with an AIDS diagnosis on my medical record and a lengthy scolding from a particularly insightful Infectious Diseases specialist. I wasn't in any pain. I led a normal, active life and had no issues with mobility or cognition. I fed myself maybe too well and never had trouble drinking. Looking at me, no one would have considered it even possible that I had AIDS. But I did. It was in May of last year that I decided I wasn't ready anymore to let the virus have me. I wasn't done with life. There were things I still wanted to do. So I got back on meds and started to rebuild my immune system. It took me being vigilant in taking my medicine every single day for over 7 months to finally get my CD4 count back above the 200 cell threshold, even though the viral load immediately went undetectable. Was what worth it? Considering the fact that I'm no better or worse off today than that naive 19-year-old boy was back in 1993 when he was first diagnosed, I'm having trouble framing the context of your question. Has the stigma beat the shit out of my confidence and self-esteem over the past two-and-a-half decades? You bet your ass it has, at every turn and from every direction. Has the virus won? Not yet, that motherfucker hasn't. I control the virus now, not the other way around. And I'm past the point where ignorance and fear in other folks' reactions can bruise or batter my sense of self-worth. Those ugly flaws are now reflections of their value, not mine. I'm happy to educate and always forthcoming about my status with every potential sex partner I meet. I can't even pass up an oddly worded post in an online discussion forum without taking the time to address the topic of HIV/AIDS. ;-P

It had been a slow night at the baths and I was taking a shower. I heard a gruff voice say, "Nice ass, pal!" I turned and saw a tall scrawny guy with a lop-sided grin staring at me. "Thanks!" I said. "I wanna FUCK that ass!" he said, reaching for me. "You ready to get fucked?" I was kinda turned on by his bluntness but his sketchy attitude was making me nervous, too! Two other guys came up behind him. It was clear that they were together. "No, thanks," I stammered. He barked, "You think cuz we're all HIV-Positive that you're too good for us? Being poz ain't NOTHIN' to be ashamed of. We don't get turned down by NO ONE! You hear me?" "Maybe another time," I muttered! All three frowned at this. The first guy spoke again, "I think it's gonna be NOW! A good bottom knows his place. He does what he's told and takes what he's given. And we sure got something to give you, don't we boys?!" As they crowded closer, cutting off any possible retreat, I looked at them more closely. They all sported tattoos. The first guy, he grabbed my shoulders and bent me towards him. Stepping up to my face, he growled, "Open your mouth!" His stiff prick had 'HIV POZ' with a big red plus sign on it. I wanted to protest, but suddenly, I had a mouthful of cock! POZ COCK! The next guy reached out to restrain my arms. I saw that he had two different 'toxic' symbols on his forearms. As the last guy stepped behind me, I saw an angry looking scorpion tat on his chest. I heard him spit and then he entered me roughly, but I could only moan helplessly with the first guy's dick filling my mouth. They occasionally rotated and the pozzing went on for what seemed like hours. Guys from the club came and went. Most stopped to stare in awe. Many of them jerked off while watching. They probably thought they were looking at some staged scene. You know....helpless bottom gets gangbanged by 3 hard-looking poz fukkers. They didn't know that IT WAS REAL! Every time one of them came inside me, our audience cheered them on. My head drooped with shame! Finally, they were done. One by one, they presented their dicks for me to clean off with my mouth. The first pig leaned close and whispered, "Did you like that, slut? Plenty more where that came from! You're goin' home FULL of the BUG tonight! We'll be back again on Saturday night if'n you want some MORE!" And with that...they swaggered out.

this story is pretty much based on a true story, - it was my first time, and we really did fall in love... sadly our paths took us different directions many years ago - and although we are still in touch, I've been without a soulmate since. At first glance you would assume I am just an average, conservative kind- of –guy, and I would tend to agree with that assumption. But after my last “ordinary” relationship with my boyfriend failed, I decided it was time to break my boring routine and try to enjoy some of the more adventurous things in life that I had always passed on. Now that I was spending my nights alone, I was relying on my computer more for sexual stimulation. Thank God there is no shortage of porn on the internet. I would surf for any hot movie that caught my eye, usually with some hot muscled jock. I’d recline back in my chair, and start to lazily play with my cock while the stud in his jockstrap got his hole licked and fingered and slowly stretched open. Buy the time his pink pucker was quivering for some dick, I would usually have a finger or two up my own ass, and my own dick would be hard as a rock and leaking drops of precum that would mix with the lube I was using to stroke my shaft. I always tried to match my speed and intensity with the hot fuck session that was on the screen, so that I would cum at the exact same time as the guy in the movie shot his load deep in the ass of the jock stud he was fucking. After my own ass finished clamping down on my fingers and the aftershocks of shooting an intense load wore off…I would clean up, shut off the computer and climb into bed …alone…and realizing that computer porn would never make up for the 'real thing'. As time went on, I noticed that my taste in movies was starting change, and those muscled jocks I had watched were now replaced with hairy muscled leather guys. I also started looking in the local chat rooms for some actual “real” connections. I felt myself being drawn to scenes that involved a lot of ass play…guys in harnesses that were stretching open the holes of other guys in slings. Soon it wasn’t just hot dicks plowing pink holes...it was dildos and fists stretching open hot hairy butts. I was mesmerized, and my ass was starting to take on a mind of its own. After years of vanilla sex, my hole was starting to get hungry for more. I bought some toys...and some poppers...and began to start mimicking what I saw in the movies . I also started popping into some of the local chat rooms, and found out there were a lot of guys online that were really heavy into the leather scene. I posted a profile, but was always to nervous about ever starting a conversation with anyone. Here I was…just an average conservative guy, who was starting to feel the pig awaken. These guys were already knee deep in the pigpen, and I knew I’d be a disappointment to them when they realized I was just a newbie. I didn’t own any leather, and I only had one jockstrap…that I used for my online photo. So one night, I was feeling especially horny, and logged into the chat room, got my toys, lube and poppers out, and settled in for another solo session. Within a few minutes I suddenly got an IM from another guy in the chat room. He was a hot hairy muscle daddy, and he introduced himself by letting me know how much he loved the photo of me in my jock. He was hot, and sexy, and I started to wish I could muster up the courage to give in and let myself go, and be the perfect pig boy he surely was looking for. After some online flirting, he invited me to come over. I was horny as hell, but scared to death, so I politely declined his invitation. I told him the truth, that I was brand new to this, and way too inexperienced to be much fun for him. He immediately replied, asking if I was into PnP. I hated to admit, I didn’t even know what that meant. Pain and Pleasure? Piss and poop? Christ..what was I getting into? He responded with a “LOL” and explained it meant party and play. Using recreational drugs to take the edge off, or enhance the pleasure. I told him I had done poppers…but never had tried anything else. He asked if I was interested in experimenting a little, and told me that he would love to be the one to introduce me to the wonderful world of Pnp Pig Sex. Wow….all of a sudden my cock became instantly hard..and I could feel my ass twitch with excitement. I didn’t know what it would be like, but suddenly I had a hot leather daddy wanting to take me under his wing, and show me all the mysterious pleasures that had become so intriguing to me. In one last effort to stall…I asked him what exactly he had in mind. He told me that I would need to come over, and that I would need to trust him. He promised to walk me thru everything once I was there and ready to play…but he didn’t want to waste time writing about it when he knew it would be more fun to experience it. He gave me some simple instructions…take a shower, clean up…and out, wear my jock, and pick up some Gatorade, or water, or whatever I wanted to drink. He promised I’d need to replenish my fluids because he was going to make sure we had a long hot sweaty night. I got directions to his place…and I was burning with excitement. I couldn’t believe this was actually going to happen! I hopped in the shower and hopped in my car and within 45 minutes, I found myself knocking on his door. He opened the door…and looked even hotter than his pictures. His head was nearly shaved with a military style buzz cut. He was shirtless, except for a leather harness, and his tribal armband tattoo. His nipples were pierced, and his hairy pecs were hard and muscular, and shadowed over his flat abs. A thick treasure trail of hair disappeared into his black leather pants and silver studded belt. He looked just like one of the guys from the movies. He immediately smiled at me...which made me feel immediately more relaxed…and he invited me into his place. As soon as I stepped inside, he reached around me to shut the door, and immediately put his arms around me to pull me in close to him. He rubbed his hands on my chest thru my t-shirt, and pressed his pelvis up against my jeans. It took me by surprise..a little, but it immediately broke the ice, and I wrapped my arms around him, and ran my hands over his muscular shoulders and arms. As my hands reached his, he took them, and smiled again, and pulled me into the entryway. “Come In, stud” he growled…get comfortable, take your clothes off, and let’s get to know each other. He led me to a room off to the side, which had all of the things that you would need to film leather porn. “Welcome to my playroom!” I was speechless, and took a long deep breath to try to slow down my heartbeat. I think he could sense my nervousness, because he pulled me close once again, kissed me, and pulled me down onto the couch. “Just relax..I promise, I will make sure you enjoy every minute of this, and if you ever want to stop…just tell me…we won’t go anywhere that you aren’t comfortable going.” We kissed again..and I was immediately turned on. He took my shirt off…pinched my nipples, rubbed my crotch…and I was instantly hard as a rock. My hands were all over him as well…and I started to let my inhibitions go. “Let me go get something to help us relax, and you get out of those jeans and shoes. I’ll be right back.” He left for a second, and came back with a little travel shaving kit. He pulled out a bag of weed, and some rolling papers, and a lighter. As I got undressed, he rolled a really thick joint, lit it, and took a hit. He held the smoke in his lungs for a very long time, and then let it escape his lungs in a low growl. “Okay…your turn…it’s just pot…and it will help take the edge off, help you relax, and get you a little horny.” I took the joint, and followed his instructions. I took a deep inhale, and worked really hard to fight the urge to cough as I felt the smoke burn inside my chest. I held it in until he told me to let it out…which seemed like 10 minutes…but was really only a few seconds I’m sure. “Good boy” he said, and rubbed my neck. He took the joint back for another hit and we both sat back on the couch and started feeling each other as we passed the joint back and forth. It wasn’t long until I was feeling the effects. It was a fuzzy, drunk kind of feeling, but it felt good, and I WAS really relaxed, and starting to get a really deep new feeling…it was horny…but a whole different kind of horny. I started to really get into our touching and kissing, and before I knew it we were done with the joint, and greedily sucking each other’s dicks in a 69 position on the couch. Next thing I knew, I felt his fingers and tongue start playing with my hole. It felt so good. I knew it was the pot…but Damn! This was awesome. I was sucking his huge dick, and moaning, and grinding my ass against his face and fingers. He spit in my ass, and started working in two of his fat long fingers. God it felt so good. “Good boy..you like that don’t you…there is a little pig in there just dying to get out isn’t there?” “Yes sir” I muffled between taking breaths from sucking his huge cock. “Nice” he moaned, and began working my hole into a frenzy. “I think you’re ready for my next surprise” he said as he reach over to his travel bag, and pulled out a tiny little baggie, with some white powder, and a tiny little silver bullet. “Coke?” I asked. “Nope, Tina" he replied. “Tina?” I repeated. “Yep. It's sort of like coke, but better for sex. You can smoke it, snort it, put it in your ass, and even inject it directly into a vein - but it goes right to your ass. And you will want more than my tongue and fingers up there.” “So, how are we doing it?” I asked. “We’ll go easy at first, just a little bump off the silver bullet…and we’ll make sure you have some time to let it kick in. You’ll probably feel a bit of a rush at first..like a jolt of caffeine, but in about 20 minutes, you will feel it start to warm up your ass, and I bet your hands won’t be able to let go of your dick." "Okay" I replied, adding “ although I think the pot has already done a pretty good job of that.” We both took a hit from the bullet, and the instant effect was just as he described. I was really starting to realize I was in very good hands. He was letting me know what to expect, before it happened, and his description was very accurate. We went back to exploring each other’s bodies, and before I knew it, my ass was tingling, and I was pulling on the head of my dick like I was pulling taffy. I was groaning a low guttural groan that I had never heard myself make before. We did another hit off the Tina bullet, and I was really starting to feel the effects. “Okay, boy. I think we’re ready for some more serious play. Your ass is really getting hot, and I want you to get in that sling, so I can open you up, and fuck you.” I hopped up so fast, I think my brain was now in my ass and following his instructions. He helped me get into the sling, and then lubed up my hole, and his cock, and I moaned in ecstasy as his beautiful thick cock slid into my hungry hole. We started out slow, and his fucking gradually grew in force and intensity. Getting fucked had never felt so good. He gave me another bump of tina, and then grabbed a bottle of poppers, and held them under my nose. “You said you have done poppers before..right?” “Yeah.” “Good…then take good hit, so I can pound your ass really hard.” I inhaled deeply, and he did the same, and no sooner had he recapped the bottle, he grabbed the sling and started pounding my ass with wild abandon. “FUCK…YEAH…” we both screamed. I was pulling on my dick as hard as I could, but noticed it wasn’t getting as hard as I usually do…but I really didn’t care. It still felt good..but it was my ass that was feeling amazing. I felt it squeezing and clamping down on my hot leather studs hard dick as he pounded my ass, and arched his back while his eyes were rolling back in his head. This was incredible. It was better than any fantasy I could imagine. He gave me another hit of poppers, and then reached under the sling and started banging the shit out of my ass….I could tell that he was about ready to cum. Between the pot, the tina, the poppers and the fucking…my head was reeling. I had never felt so turned on. I was suddenly brought back to my senses as I heard him shout and yell, and felt his hard cock slam deep in my ass as is shot the hottest, most forceful load I’d ever taken. My ass involuntarily clamped down, and made sure that every drop of cum was worked out of that amazing dick, and not a single drop was spilled. He immediately slumped forward, drops of sweat landing on my chest, and kissed me passionately and deeply. My hips were grinding involuntarily, not wanting to let his dick escape my ass as we kissed. Finally, his dick slid out, but I was still pulling on mine, soft…but sensitive. He saw my face register a bit of disappointment – both for my failure to get hard, and also for the sudden emptiness in my well fucked hole. He immediately reassured me that the soft dick was often a result of the Tina, but not to worry…all the pleasure was going to become more and more intense in my ass. He asked if I was ready to try some toys, and if I was ready to try a different way to do a hit of Tina. I must of looked a little nervous again, because he immediately kissed me again, and with his lips still pressed to mine, he whispered with a hot breath "Trust me.” And I did. Once again, he reached into his black bag. This time he pulled out a thick syringe. My eyes widened with fear, because I was not real fond of needles. “Don’t worry” he said. It’s not a needle. Just a water syringe. But it’s got dose of Tina in it, mixed with the water. I’ll squirt it into your ass, and within seconds you’ll get the effect. Just hold it in, and when I get your first toy, it should be absorbed. You'll love it..and you’ll be ready for some bigger toys than the ones you have. Cool?” “Okay…I said…you haven’t let me down yet.” He pulled the cap off the syringe, and showed me that indeed there was no needle on the end. He put a little lube on the edge of the syringe, and gently worked it into my hole. “Ready?” he asked. I nodded. “Okay…here we go.” I suddenly felt the liquid slowly start to fill my ass, and I envisioned it mixing with his load. I was suddenly hit with an amazing rush of warmth that nearly took my breath away. “See…it absorbs pretty quick. You should be flying by now.” My heartbeat suddenly picked up, and my breathing became quicker. He pulled the syringe out, pinched my nipples, and then took my hand away from my dick as he sucked my soft cocked like a vacuum. I yelled in absolute pleasure! Oh my god it felt so good. FUCK YEAH…DAMN…my ass was on fire…I needed cock bad. It felt so good. “There’s my little piggy” he smirked as he stepped away. My hand went back to my dick, and I started pinching one of my nipples as he back away. He reached over to a table and pulled away a black cloth, and revealed a table full of all kinds of dildos and sex toys in all sizes. One of them was just as big as mine at home…but they got bigger and bigger as they lined up along the table’s edge. He grabbed one, and smeared it with a generous dose of lube, and then started slowly working it into my ass. I couldn’t believe it…it was like my ass had a total mind of its own. I was no longer in control..and I suddenly felt my hole stretching open further than I’d ever been opened up before. But it felt so good. I took a deep breath, and moaned again. He got it about halfway in, and then held it in place as he reached over with his other hand to grab the bottle of poppers. I took another deep hit of the poppers, and suddenly, I was in a whole new world. My eyes rolled back in the back of my head, and then I felt my entire ass open up as that huge dildo slid right in to its giant rubber base without any pain or resistance. HOLY SHIT….It was so fucking deep …OH FUCK! I could feel that giant rubber dick deep in my guts and it felt so good! He started to work it in and out. Slowly at first, and gradually picked up speed. I got lost in the pleasure…and closed my eyes and floated in that sling as that giant dick stretched my ass. Every now and then he would touch my chest, my dick, my face, and give me occasional hits of poppers...all the while giving me deep low groans of encouragement. He soon went for a bigger toy…but I was too lost in my ecstasy to really notice. I did feel a little bit of pressure as he eased the bigger toy in, but it was soon followed with another deep hit of poppers, and I was off in my own world again, as that giant invader laid claim to my open hole. I have no idea how much time had passed, and hour…maybe two. I gradually started to feel like I was coming down, and my senses were returning to normal. I looked up…like I had just regained consciousness, and smiled at my sexy teacher. He smiled back…and we didn’t even need words at this point to share the mutual pleasure we were both feeling. He slid the toy out of my ass..and I was shocked…somewhere in my soaring high…he had upsized again to a third, even bigger toy. I never would have believed I could take something that huge…but he showed it to me from between my legs, just to prove to me that I was more pig than I realized. We laughed a bit, kissed some more, and then he grabbed my bottle of Gatorade and a towel. I was sweating profusely. Took a deep drink, toweled off a bit, and started to catch my breath. At this point I thought things were winding down. He was standing closer to the table, taking a drink of his own bottled water, so I started to sit up in the unsteady sway of the sling. “Where you going boy…you had enough?” “Oh…I thought we were winding down” I sheepishly said…immediately feeling slightly worried that I gave the wrong signal and disappointing my new leather daddy. “Well, I have one more surprise for you, if you want. I thought I’d try to take it up one more notch…that is if you want to” I couldn’t possibly imagine what he had in mind. I was absolutely in awe of what we had done so far, so if we still had one more level to go, I wasn’t sure I could take the overstimulation of my senses. “You want to really let go of your inner pig…this is the best thing there is.” He reached into his black back again, and pulled out two thin syringes with an orange cap on the end. I was puzzled, because the last syringe was much bigger, so I didn’t know if it was a smaller dose to just bring the action back up a little, or if this was something totally different. “Okay, let me tell you about this, and then you can tell me if you want to keep going or not”. This syringe has a needle. So this dose of tina will go right into a vein. It’s called “slamming.” It’s just like getting a shot at the doctor, or giving a blood sample. “That doesn’t sound too bad” I timidly replied. “Well…this will definitely take you one level higher than the booty bump. You will feel this rush in your entire body, you will immediately feel the Tina take effect, and I guarantee, you will be amazed at how fast you let go of all your inhibitions….do you still trust me?” “Yes” I answered. “Then trust me, I think you will like this a lot. I will make sure that it’s quick, painless, and I will be here to make sure you stay calm enough to truly enjoy the amazing rush.” “Okay” I said…but I might not be able to watch, I don’t do so well with needles. “No worries”, he said. “You do whatever you want. Let’s get you out of the sling though, because I want to do you first, and then I want you to go kneel down over the arm of the couch with your ass in the air. I will then do my slam, and come over and take good care of your ass while you ride the rush,. “Okay…I’m ready” He went back to his back bag one more time, pulled out a black elastic strip for a tourniquet, and 2 small white envelopes…alcohol prep pads. He came back over to me, with the syringe, pulled my arm out and looked in the crook for a vein. He quickly tapped the large vein, and then started to wrap the black elastic around my upper bicep. My vein started to bulge, and my heart was already racing with a little bit of excitement, and a lot of nerves. He opened the alcohol prep pad, and gently wiped it over the inside of my arm. I was scared to watch…but I couldn’t help it. I was fascinated. It was like my leather daddy was getting ready to give me a shot…like a nurse. It was somehow, very touching, like he was taking care of me…and all of a sudden all of my worry melted away. I kept watching as he took the orange cap off of the syringe, and exposed the tiny thin needle. He turned the syringe upside down, and flicked it on the side to knock the air bubbles out of it. He looked at me deep in my eyes, smiled again, and asked “ready?” I nodded yes. Okay..turn your head if you want. “I’m okay” I said. “I trust you”. He gently placed the tip of the needle at the edge of my vein, and I took a deep breath. He gently eased it in, with only a slight pinch, and then I felt a little pop as the needle went into the vein. I kept watching intently. He pulled back slightly on the syringe, and I saw a wispy red cloud rush into the syringe. He took the tourniquet off my arm with his other hand in a single soft pull, looked at me one more time, and said, “Here you go baby, this is gonna be intense…you might have a cough..But that’s normal…it’s the tina hitting your blood and your lungs, don’t be scared…just enjoy it.” “Okay…go for it” He slowly started to push the plunger downward, and the reddish liquid started to disappear into my vein. I immediately started to feel a tingle all over my body…like when you put your tongue on the end of a nine volt battery. The more of the slam that went in, the more I tingled...I got this warm all over rush, and my chest started to expand with a heavy breath. I felt my eyes open wide, and my ass squeezed so tight, if there had been anything in there I would have snapped it in half. The last bit of liquid in the syringe went into my arm, and then I suddenly felt the uncontrollable cough. Two coughs…and then I WAS SOARING!!! SHIT! SHIT!!! HOLY SHIT!!!. He pulled the needle out and immediately covered the skin with the alcohol pad. He lifted my arm above my head, and then reached around the start digging at my ass with his giant meaty paws. OH GOD!! I NEED YOU IN MY ASS! “Feel good Baby?” “FUCK YEAH” OH SHIT..that’s all I could say. I started to feel my legs go week. “Go kneel over the couch, get your ass lubed up real good…I’m on my way” I staggered over, reached for the giant bottle of lube, pouring out more than I could control. I leaned over the couch and started shoving lube into my hungry hole, stretching it open, shoving fingers in, and trying to get my whole hand in. I was in ecstasy…I was finally out of control, feeling piggy as all hell, and ready for anything. I didn’t even notice my leather daddy administer his own slam, until I heard his own cries and groans of pleasure suddenly shout from behind me. “Oh, yeah….piggy….let me work that ass” “Yes sir!” He came from behind be and I saw his had come over my head; he handed me the bottle of poppers, and then reached for the giant bottle of lube. “Take a good long hit…you are about to be sent into a whole ne w world.” I took the deepest hit of poppers that I had ever taken…and I held it deep in my lungs…like the pot smoke from earlier…and suddenly I felt my entire ass just relax and open up like molten lava, and I felt my daddy’s hands working to stretch my ass open. First it was three fingers….then four…..then another mind numbing hit of poppers, and then I lost all awareness of anything…all I know is that my ass had never felt more full. I was gyrating my hips, and wagging my piggy tail like I needed to get my hungry hole filled with a buffet of anything that was in reach. I suddenly felt my ass stretch just a bit far..and then a soft pop, or suction sound. I had his whole FIST! HOLY SHIT! I WAS IN HEAVEN!! I screamed in pleasure, my daddy was yelling encouragement… and I had never been so wildly out of control. He flipped me around to the front of the couch, laid me on my back, held my feet above my head with one hand, and handed me the poppers again with the other. I took another hit…and then so did he…and I couldn’t get his fist in my ass again fast enough. I was riding his fist, and then his forearm, and then suddenly I started to let go with a *******ial spray of piss all over my chest…he grabbed my dick with his free hand, and held it up so that it sprayed all over my face, and then his. It had a bitter taste…the first time I’d ever tasted piss. “”That’s tina piss boy..It’ll keep you flying high too…but I’m not taking my hand out of your ass yet ..but when I do…it will be so I can shove my dick up your hungry hole, and piss my tina right back into you” He kept his word…he fisted me to the point of an uncontrollable orgasm…I didn’t even touch my dick..and it was still soft…but I was coming all over myself. It was mixing with the damp piss stains on my stomach. He gently pulled his fist out of my hot hungry ass, and then shoved his dick in. He looked down at me, and with an amazing softness, he stared right thru to my soul, I started to actually tear up, and cry with absolute abandon. It was the most beautifully hot and touching closeness I had ever felt to another person in my entire life. I trusted him, and he took me placed I never knew existed. And then, just as I was catching my breath, and stopping my tears…he leaned in close, whispered once again…”good pig”, and then kissed me gently on the lips….it was then that I started to feel the warm tina piss filling up my hot hungry ass…and my soul nearly left my body, and floated up to my new slamming soul mate.

I haven’t written in a while as all my last several fucks have been relatively ordinary, which is to say one-on-one, or at most getting two different loads by the end of the night, but that all changed tonight. I was horny as fuck, drinking wine, and smoking a couple of joints with some friends when this thick veiny-dicked dude called me, saying he wanted to come over to breed my hole. He’s an older man, 48, hairy, well built and with those cocks that for some reason have a protruding lower vein like some misshaped fruit, making the dick hard to ride and kinda painful but once it gets going it's clear he'll wreck the hole he is fucking. True to his word he came right over, but sadly didn't take long to cum. Still I rode him for a while, squeezing my asshole to make sure he opened me well, and as planned, he soon blasted his load deep inside my guts. Afterwards we chatted a bit while I checked Grindr where I learned a friend from school was going to the bathhouse downtown so I reached-out to him, suggesting we go together. He readily agreed. The only day the bathhouse opens all night is on Saturday, until 8:00 AM Sunday morning, so as to catch all the horny party men on the way home. I was cautiously optimistic I'd get several loads without the necessity of fending off rubbers. We got there and my friend and I walked into the dry chamber and I started to blow him. He’s got a really thick and curved dick, so I swallowed it whole and was soon jumping on top of it as seven to nine guys gathered to watch. I counted them as I checked out their dicks, beckoning each one to come forward for a blow while I got fucked. While most of the guys were receptive to my invitation, there was one man who was playing shy most didn’t come over, but eventually he stepped forward and, after some effort, I had his exceptionally long, monster dick which I finally got down my throat, as the man's balls bounced against my chin. After several minutes of working monster dick, I decided to give my jaws a break, so I released the monster dick as I also slid off my friend's cock, and turning around, decided I'd finish off my friend with a blow job. The monster dick, however, was not so easily the discouraged as, without any preliminaries, the monster dick slid into my ass, giving me a vigorous fuck. The audience was getting bigger, and another guy approached us and took my hands towards his cock, which was thick, veiny, long, big - in short, a cock I'd be happy to breed me. “I’m about to cum. Where do you want it?” asked the monster dick in my ass. I couldn't effectively answer him as I was deep-throating my friend. Instead I reached behind myself, grabbed him about his waist, and did my best to hold him steady until he blew. Moaning and grunting, the man stood still until his balls released his sweet liquid in my guts. Two loads so far. Not a bad day. He withdrew and to my great pleasure, the thick, veiny, long cock I noticed earlier slid into my ass. It may have hurt like hell, but the idea of having a dick stirring the two loads inside me helped me take it like a man. He fucked me for a while and was soon announcing that he’d cum soon. “You want it? Beg me for it”, he commanded. Fuck, is attitude got me going. The're nothing like a man who recognizes another's need to be recognized as a cumwhore. “Breed that hole, man, leave that load deep and don’t pull out till every drop is in me”, I said, making sure I was heard. He groaned, moaned and was soon awarding me with my third load of the night, withdrawing only after I relaxed my ass muscles, releasing his cock to make its departure. After this I stood-up, stretched, retrieved my towel and walked straight into the little dark room that’s next to the first floor terrace, hoping as I did so, that some of the crowd would follow me. As soon as I got in a found his big bellied hairy guy just sitting there in the darkness with a really low hanging dick. I was soon on my knees deep-throating that soft meat, that sadly wouldn’t get hard for another while. Fortunately I saw a skinny shadow come towards me. The skinny guy thoughtfully guided my hand towards his crotch where, hot damn, I found more big dick. It was amazing. He turned me around, pushed my head down to continue sucking on the big bellied guy and shoved his dick in my ass. Fuck yes, another big dick was now stirring the three loads in my hole. He fucked me hard and fast, being really loud with the grunting and making sure our skins clapped against each other. A crowd formed in the darkness, and people kept trying to grab my chest and arms and hard dick. When the grunting and moaning got more intense and then quickly subsided I turned around with him still in me and asked “Did you fill that hole good?” “Fuck yes,” he replied, a note of satisfaction in his voice. Abruptly I heard someone moan in the darkness as one of the onlookers came. How the exchange between me and the top could get someone off in a dark room is beyond me, but who am I to judge? He pulled out and I felt something big open my ass. I couldn’t fucking believe I had another big dick mixing up his DNA with the other four loads I had inside. I sensed this guy was older, and his dick was something out of this world - one of those huge cocks that completely fills-up and stretches open a bottom's cavities. The guy leaned over, presenting me with some welcome poppers, giving me time to take several huffs before he proceeded to plow me hard, using a methodical, rhythmic pattern of thrusts that reduced me to a true fuck hole. It was fucking perfect. He asked me for the poppers back and took a hit, telling me he’d come soon. I said aloud “Please fill that hole, sir,” and he followed suit in perfect order. Now, five fucking loads one right after the other from five fucking big dicks don’t happen often where I live, so I had to cherish the moment. Another dick walked behind me and I felt someone lean on me and whisper my name, asking “How many loads to have there, you cunt?” I knew it was my buddy, who I had accompanied in this trip to the bathhouse. "Five," I replied, a smile on my lips. I sensed he was jerking himself off fast, and his cock head was colliding with my ass lips. “Get ready for the sixth,” he said, shoving his terribly thick dick in me. His cock was that which pushed me over the line: I went from spongy to rock hard in seconds, and a load blew out of my cock within a minute or so, leaving the room redolent with the smell of cum, sweat, poppers and ass juices. I turned around and we kissed, celebrating a very successful visit to the bathhouse. After that I got my towel, walked out of the little dark room, took a shower and called a taxi. I'm now heading to bed, the DNA of six different men swirling inside my ass. I can only hope not much will cum will show-up when I make my bathroom call tomorrow morning. Wish me luck.

Note: Parts of this story are quite true, although the names and locations have been changed. Part One: A bit about myself, I grew up in the Deep South in a very religious household. The day that I turned 18 I came out to my parents (making damn sure there was no chance of a trip to the "pray the gay away " camp). My father, being a deacon in the Baptist Church and a pillar of the community promptly told me to leave. Fortunately, my grandparents were more understanding and allowed me to stay with them until I finished high school. It was during this four month period that I made my first trip to Atlanta and managed to get into a gay bar with a fake ID. Now mind you, this was before the internet was around (1994) commonly, so simply finding a gay bar was a challenge, much less driving three hours each way to go to one. But my rock hard teen dick thought I was up to the task. I managed to convince my grandparents that I was going to see some cousins in another area of the state and left for Atlanta right after school that Friday in February. When I got to Atlanta at 7 that evening it took me another hour to find the bar I was looking for (the name starts with an "E"). I had no idea what to expect, which when I got there wasn't much considering that it was only 8 on a Friday night, but I presented my ID to the doorman, who I'm sure knew was fake, and was let in. I finally worked up enough courage to ask for a beer and then asked the bartender about the crowd. Looking me up and down, he replied "Should be busy later," and left it at that. That "later" never seemed to come. Bored out of my mind, I struck up a conversation with an older gentleman who quickly figured out that I was new meat and totally innocent. He convinced me to wait, and gruffly told me to quit looking at guys directly into their eyes unless I planned on going home with them later. So I waited, and sure enough about 11 the place started to get packed. I was like a kid in a candy shop! So many hot guys, like nothing I had ever experienced before, many of them in leather. I scanned the scene, and two guys, prolly not much older really caught my eyes. They were wearing leather head to toe, both were about my size at 6'2 and around 200 pounds. But holy fuck, it was clear they were built like a brick shit house. Working up my courage, and aided by the few beers I'd had, I walked over to talk to them. The dark haired guy was named Rocky and the blonde was Alex. They were both city boys from Atlanta and were intrigued by this innocent looking Alabama farm kid. We exchanged small talk, and noticing that I was out of beer, Alex asked if I wanted another. Five minutes later he shows up with not only three beers for us, but shots as well. Coming from a dry county, and from a family that never even had liquor in the house, this was really going to put me over the top, but I partook anyhow. After a bit, Rocky looked at me and asked if I wanted to hit the dance floor. I answered back with something about "not knowing how." I didn't want to be the dead weight, so I decided to go outside to the patio for some air. Not five minutes later, they were both out with me. " I'm just nervous, since this is the first time I've ever been in a gay bar" I explained. "You're not 21 either, are you?" Asked Rocky. I affirmed that his assumption was correct. "Here, I have something that will help you to relax" he said, handing me an ecstasy pill. Not knowing what it was, and being so nervous and naive, I took the whole thing. Suddenly, the lights were going up and I realized it must be closing time. Fuck, where had the time gone? I was experiencing feeling like I never had before, every touch sent shivers through me. Then that little voice in the back of my head went, "Oh shit, I am fucked up, I have no hotel room, and what the fuck am I gonna do?" So, I ran up to Rocky and Alex, both of whom quickly surmised that the farm kid needed somewhere to stay for the night. Little did I know this had been the plan for them all along. "Sure, you can crash with us, but we have to make a stop on the way home first." Not much I could do but agree. We walked to their car, with both assuring me that my truck would be fine over night, and left. While Alex drove, Rocky offered me a few hits off of a joint to help me calm down a bit from the E. We drove for what seemed like forever in my warped drug-hazed mind, but it was in reality no more that fifteen minutes and stopped at a rather large house. "Wanna come with us, or sit out in the cold?" Rocky asked. I decided to come in. Damn, this place was nice...I sat with Alex in the living room while Rocky went with the guy, who was pretty damn hot to be old enough to be my father. A few minutes later Rocky came back with the guy, nodded to Alex and we left. When we got to their place, a rather cramped apartment, they threw some porn on the TV on got comfortable. I was a bit nervous to say the least... Sensing my nervousness, Alex asked if I wanted to smoke another joint. Nodding to him, he handed me a whole joint and told me to relax. After four or five hits and ten minutes had gone by, I was stoned off my ass. Both Alex and Rocky were jerking their cocks by this point. Rocky was a nice eight inches and average thickness, but holy shit, Alex was a solid ten inches and as thick as a beer can. I couldn't keep my eyes off them. "Boy seems to like cock" Alex said to Rocky, "Yeh, but does he know what to do with one?" Rocky responded. Rocky told me to get down and give him head. I did the best I could, but there was no way I could blow him and not gag, but damnit, I wanted that cock so bad. "Should we get him the special boy medicine?" I heard Alex say, "Fuck yeh, I think this pig is eager to learn." Rocky responded. Rocky told me to stand up and a minute later Alex returned with a glass pipe. Rocky told me that some guys who are just starting out sometimes need some help to reach their potential. "Do you want some help?" "Sure," I responded. "Hold the stem and when you see some smoke coming from the hole start to inhale on the pipe, and I want you to take four big hits." I nodded with eager anticipation. After the third hit I felt like every hair on my body was standing on end. By the time I exhaled the fourth hit, I was in heaven. Rocky and Alex sat back down, both stroking their cocks slowly, with some nice beads of pre-cum leaking out. Rocky motioned for me to come back over and get between his legs, which I eagerly did. "Now get back down and slobber on that cock like you fucking mean it," he said. I went straight for the root, non-stop. Seconds later it dawned on me that I was deep throating another dude balls deep and loving it. About five minutes later I heard Alex say that he thought I was ready for more. "Get up and follow Alex," which I reluctantly did. I was sort of surprised at how fast I had taken to cock sucking, but didn't realize how fucked up I was, nor that I was about to get a lot more fucked up. Alex led me to the bathroom and showed me how to use the enema kit, "I don't want no shit on my cock, bro" and told me to holler when the bag was empty. After 3 clean outs, the bag was empty and so was I, so I hollered for Alex to come back. I was expecting a towel but instead he brought a half gallon of syrupy golden brown liquid and refilled the bag. "On your knees" he told me. Quickly complying, I felt the nozzle going much deeper in me than I had gone before. "Gonna run this whole bag into ya bro, gonna feel a slight burn, but it'll help ya get ready for later. Don't let it out until I tell ya." With that he opened the clamp and walked out. Holy shit was I getting uncomfortable from the burn and the fullness. Then, like a ton of bricks hit me I was sweating like I was in a desert and fuck I was feeling even better than before if that was even possible. A few minutes later, both Rocky and Alex returned. "Holy fuck, that is one fucked up pig boy," said Rocky. I was so spun I couldn't see straight. Alex removed the nozzle, "Stand up and push that out," he said. Standing wasn't going to happen without some serious help. Both guys got me up and I pushed the chem piss out while Alex reloaded the bag with water. This time Rocky stayed with me and helped to get the chem piss cleaned out. He handed me a jock, "really oughta cover that shriveled boy clit ya got there up." That was when I realized my dick was literally the smallest I think I had ever seen it. Normally, hard it was a solid seven inches, but he'll tonight, go all nights, it had gone on vacation. On the way to their bedroom, Rocky explained to me that sometimes when a guy takes medicine to overcome his fears, it puts his dick to sleep, "But don't worry, you won't need it anyway." I crawled into bed while Alex and Rocky watched. Alex put some extra pillows under my head and crawled behind me, "Give me your ankles," he said. Rocky lined his cock up to my hole, and with nothing but some spit for lube, was balls deep in an instant. I was in pain, but loving every minute of it. He was patient and took his time, taking a good half hour to nut in my formerly virgin ass. Alex wasn't, he used Rocky's cum for lube and rammed it home as hard and fast as he could. It only took him five minutes or so to nut. Looking up at Rocky, he said, "I think the boy has some potential for dad," "Oh hell yeh" was Rock's reply. I had no idea what they were talking about. I was too mesmerized by the constant leakage of my cock. Rocky looked down, saw me playing with and grabbed my hand. "Let it leak, that's all a t dick is good for anyway, and besides its hot" he said. Grabbing a butt plug, Alex plugged me and they left me to rest for a bit.

About a week ago I started chatting with this college kid on BBRT. We exchanged numbers but he was kinda casual and blah about it. I invited him over, but he said he had a twink near campus who wanted to fuck. I say have fun and keep looking. Half an hour later he texts me back and said the twink was gonna flake and did I still want his load....duh!! Meanwhile, I’d been chatting up a fuckbud of mine trying to get him to come over. Wind up being negotiating a three way out of it. I was blowing college boy when my bud walked in. We went to the bedroom and I started servicing them both while they make out. I pause to catch my breath and college boy turns to my bud and asks “what do you usually do with him?” My bud responds “I usually fuck him” to which college boy responds “so fuck it.” I actually got really turned on by being referred to as “it.” 10 minutes later, I had two loads in my ass. Five minutes after that they had left and I was on grindr looking for more.

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. ***

would love to hear the stories of you poz guys going full blown AIDS. What it's like, what your going through, will you survive? decide to finally get on meds? Most of the talk here is the joy of fucking while poz but not the end result of the agony and pain of having full blown AIDS. My husband says its the worst pain he's ever been in and now has neuropathy, memory loss, wasting effect etc, and he's glad he finally went on meds. How are you all going to cope and deal with dying? Shitting yourself as you can't get up, can't eat, drink, walk, talk etc. Was it worth it? So come on guys that have actual full blown AIDS , tell it like it is and when going two or three months with AIDS and you're about to die, was it worth it? For me, I'm still undecided

I've been a long time lurker on this site. Always loved taking the risk of breeding guys but never gone as far as to take anon loads BB. I'm on PREP now, so I thought what the fuck. This weekend I've created accounts on gaydar, squirt, Bbrts and craigslist and they all offer my asshole to anyone that wants it. Bareback. Ugly/fat/old to the top of the queue. I've already taken a bunch of loads from guys without any idea what they looked like. So hot.

A True Story It was 3:00 AM on a Saturday morning and I found myself buzzing with a mixture of beer, poppers and the two fresh loads inside my well used cunt, all courtesy of Grindr. A butt plug was keeping the loads secure in my ass as I looked for a third load when I received a text from a cute student some 400 meters distant. "Hey man you looking for fun?" the student asked. "Sure. I've already had some but just so horny tonight." "Ah, fuck, sweet. I'm a bit drunk and need cock," the guy added. "Lol, me too. You top or bottom?" I asked, cutting to the chase. He was no less direct in responding "Both, but really want to get fucked." "I've had two cocks cum in me. I'm versatile though and rock hard." "Sweet, you wanna fuck me?" My next text broached the next level: "Love to, although I have to tell you I’m a bareback cum slut. Not into rubber." There was a pause of almost thirty seconds before he responded "That's cool. I don't like rubber either but I do like cum." "Good to hear. I got a butt plug holding in two loads." The kid was apparently quite a perv as he responded "Nice. I could lick those out and we could share." Fuck, the kid was making me horny. But he hadn't asked me my status, which left in the air whether or not I should bring it up. I decided to string him along. "So, you wanna come over?" Another pause ensued before he responded "Yeah. Are you clean?" Now I paused, deciding to answer him literally. "Yeah, always clean." "No, I mean HIV." Of course I knew what he meant, so I bent the truth to keep him on my hook, answering "Don't know right now. Had test, waiting for result." Actually, my reply was, in some degree, true. I had been to my doctor that day, and he drew blood. What I had omitted was to acknowledge I was HIV positive and that although was usually undetectable, I had been off meds intentionally for over a month. so I suspected I was quite toxic at that moment. After a much longer pause he responded simply "Okay." “Still want me to fuck you?" I asked. "Yeah." “Sweet.” Giving him my address, I was ready when, 30 minutes later, there was a knock at the door of my flat. He was even better looking in the flesh and although clearly drunk, he was still a bit nervous so, wearing only boxers which barely contained my hard-on, I welcomed him, leading him into the lounge. I’ve already got some hot bareback porn on and I offer him a beer and sit right next to him on the sofa. He takes a few swigs and I place a hand on his crotch and feel a rock hard and pretty offensive piece of meat there. He turns and we’re snogging in a heartbeat, tongues deep in each other’s mouths, he tastes like beer and cigarettes. He finds my nipples and tweaks them before slowly moving down to my cock. “Fuck you’re sexy” He slurs. “You too, lets get you out of these clothes” He starts to undress and I slip off my boxers and out springs 8” uncut of precum dripping cock. He smiles when he sees it and me likewise when I get a load of his tight, athletic body and fat dick. He dropped between my legs and I forced his face down onto my shaft which he quickly devoured, taking almost all of it down his throat in one go. He was a great cock sucker and treated me to a long, slow, blow job. He also found the butt plug so I shifted my position, all the better for him to release the juices from my cunt. Gently he eased it out and I forced his head towards my dripping pussy. “Lick it out and share with me” I commanded He hesitated at first, as clearly saying it on Grindr was easier than being faced with the reality of doing it but bless him, he went down and I lifted my legs to allow him to lap up the sploodge I pushed out for him. He rimmed me good and licked it all out, coming back up, we embraced in a felched charged snowball. I could taste cum and shit which was so erotic but I was amazed my young fuck slut was so happy and eager. He wanked my cock and his own as we kissed. I eventually pushed him back down and shifted him round on the rug. Parting his beautifully pert bum cheeks and finding a perfectly shaved hole. I was down on his exposed cunt with my tongue, rimming him deep and long. He moaned in delight as my expertly dexterous tongue and finger work aroused him to exquisite heights. “mmmm fuck me”, he eventually groaned through gritted teeth. I didn’t need asking twice and poking my cock at his lovely cunt I pushed in and carried on without stopping until I was fully inside his hole. He breathed out deeply and bucked a bit but took it all in one go like a trouper. I started fucking him slowly but soon got up a head of steam, power fucking his beautiful body. We were both grunting and moaning loudly as I pumped his hole. I only paused to sniff on my poppers which I handed to him and waited as he took deep, long sniffs. I knew I had a way to go before I’d shoot so I used him in a few positions, but wanted to be fucking him missionary, staring into those pretty eyes as I came inside his negative cunt; infecting him with my toxic load. We fucked for ages and were pretty sweaty as I finally felt my orgasm brewing. I flipped him on his back and lifted his legs up, pushing back into him and continuing my onslaught. We were now staring into each others eyes. I love a guy who won’t break eye contact and he didn’t. I kissed him between strokes and as I got close he could sense it. “You’re poz aren’t you?” he whispered as we broke the last kiss. Fuck I thought, what the hell, “Yeah” I replied and didn’t stop. He didn’t make any move to stop me either. “You want my poz load?” I asked starting to peak and staring into his sole. He didn’t hesitate, he didn’t break eye contact, “Yeah, poz me” and with that I grinned down and came hard and loud. I continued to pump my load into his hole and he wrapped his legs round me to force me deeper inside him. “Fuck, fuck” he kept whispering in my ear. I grinned. Maybe the reality was hitting him but it felt good to poz this bitch. Eventually I collapsed onto him. Our hot bodies entwined and once again I found myself staring into his beautifully young face. “Fuck man, what did we do?” he moaned. “You just took a toxic load” I replied reaching down to feel my cum between his ass cheeks. I withdrew my hand which had some cum on my fingers and showed him. He stared at my fingers then started licking them clean. Our night didn’t end there. He stayed until the morning and I fucked three more loads into him during the night and before he left. I didn’t even know his name. 3am, eight weeks later and I’m on Grindr and up pops a familiar looking student: “Hey. It’s me from a few weeks ago” “Oh yeah hi. How are you?” “Toxic”………..

Everything you said read as a fucking epic ode to life. Kudos, man. This is raw, powerful, intense, and beautiful.

I always thought I was saving myself for the right guy. He would be fit, beautiful, successful, worthy of being my husband. Yeah, I jerked off to Treasure Island, Dark Alley, Sweet 'n' Raw, you name it. I even posted an ad on BBRT with no pics, just so I could fantasize about raw loads. I'd flirt, I'd lead them on. Then I'd flake. "Sure, I can email pix." Then I'd shoot my load and disappear. I had a nearly-perfect body, and I'd always meet boys when I went out and they would always fuck me or take my cock. Because I wanted to be neg for my future husband, I kept a supply of latex condoms in my nightstand and in my front right pocket. I held back, knowing my skin-on-skin lust could someday be fulfilled with one perfect man. I met him, at a bar in midtown, New York. He was everything I thought I wanted: beautiful, ripped body, and god-so-fucking charming. We were both in our late 20's. The first night we met, we fucked like wild animals - except for that layer of latex. We started dating, fucking, and I fell in love. He said he did too, but we always kept that barrier. He swore he'd never fuck without it, even when we someday got hitched. It was just too important to be safe. Over time, we got comfortable. I put on just a few pounds. Not much, but enough that a thin layer of padding covered my abs. That's when he changed. He stopped being as charming, as attentive. Finally he broke it off. "I just can't be with you like this. Let's be friends." I thought my life was over. He meant the world to me, but I tried to be friends. We took our break, then started hanging out again. I put on a few more pounds, and it was no longer just a thin layer over my abs. I watched as he made out with other men, right in front of me. I'd kiss others too, just to prove I could. Then I started working out again, and stopped talking to him. I got my abs back, my pecs back, my perfect muscled ass back. And on one drunken night, I saw him again at Barracuda. I watched him scoop-up a handful of latex condoms and leave with some hottie. I went home, logged onto BBRT, and put up pics of my new, hot body and face. I tried not to want him. I still did, but I couldn't have him, but I could try the other thing I wanted. I was so afraid of the bug, but had jerked off so many times to gift giving fiction. When my pics were approved, I did my first search. I wanted someone so unlike him, but still hot. I looked for someone in Harlem, someone Latin, someone black. Someone without all the yuppy hang-ups. I got to status. I clicked that I wanted someone who said, "Ask Me." My cock was throbbing as I started going through profiles, replying, waiting for a response. Finally I got one. His cock was huge and uncut. His body was a perfectly-sculpted ebony fuck-machine. His status said "ask me." I didn't ask that, but I asked his address, and when he told me I got right in a cab and got right up to Harlem. When I got there, he was wearing nothing but basketball shorts, his half-hard dick poking down the leg. We didn't waste any time with bullshit. We made out like crazy, devouring each other's face like men who hadn't been fed in years. I sucked him just long enough to get his 9" uncut dick good and wet, then I pushed him on his back and finally gave in. I pressed my ass down onto it, clamping it and feeling the precum leak around my hole. I felt the foreskin bunch at the entrance to my ass and then slowly push back as I fucked myself onto him. In no time, I was all the way down the shaft and started working my ass up and down, up and down on him. He was helpless as I started pulsing my ass muscles, finally feeling raw skin inside me. I used his body and his cock as my objects, mercilessly ramming myself up and down on his dripping rod. I knew I couldn't touch myself, that I would cum instantly and I wanted his load before I could let mine out and start thinking about my behavior. I had waited so long to finally get barebacked, and I felt so right there impaled on his cock. He tried to take control, but I was out of control. I just rode him like there were no tomorrows, and finally he gave over to the assault of my ass. He simply lay there moaning saying "Fuck yeah," repeating that over. Finally his "fuck yeah" refrain took on a new more urgent tone and I knew he was about to cum. I reached back and felt his balls, stroking his bulging prostate between his balls and his ass. He closed his eyes and started grunting and I felt that prostate start to pulse. I knew he was cumming in me. Nothing had ever felt so right. I shot a massive wad of cum all over his abs, then left him panting on the bed and left with his probably-poz load in my ass. I jerked off for days to that as I waffled between going for PEP or not. I didn't, of course. I logged on more often after that. Next came the Latin kid who was 22, whose tongue went halfway down my throat as he flooded my guts with seed. His profile said "ask me." Next was another black guy, this one in his 30s, whose profile said "ask me" and who told me "take my cum, slut" as he loaded me up over and over. Next was a muscled bartender from G Lounge with a biohazard tatt who threw me around like a rag doll and didn't ask any questions when I ripped off the condom and milked his cock with my ass. After that came a hot blond twink from BBRT whose profile said "poz" and creamed me four times in one night. I was actively chasing and loving it. Every new dangerous encounter thrilled me. Ten, twenty, thirty loads went up my ass. That first black guy hit me up again, and I went back for more. I brought some coke, we did a couple lines, and in no time I was slamming up and down. Then I finally let him have control. But I finally asked him, as he was ramming the fucking hell out of me. "You poz?" "Yeah, you?" "Not sure. You on meds?" "Hell no." "Fuck yeah. What's your viral load?" "Hundred thousand last I know." He just kept fucking with this wicked grin. "Mmm, I'm about to cum. You want the bug?" I didn't even want to hesitate. "Fuck yeah!" He rammed me harder than ever and buried his tongue in my mouth as he exploded with a series of grunts and moans, shooting spurt after spurt of charged cum deep into my guts. I was probably already poz, but I shot a massive wad all over myself at the thought of his bug juice going up my hole. I came down with a flu a week later and knew what it meant. One of those 31 loads had taken. With my abs back and my body back, I was looking pretty hot and ran into my ex a bit later. Condom boy was drunk and wanted to fuck. I was still mad, still hurt, and I knew I was poz though I hadn't tested, but when he asked, I knew what I wanted to do. On the way home I stopped at a drug store, purchased some lambskins, and slid one on when we went to bed. We flip-fucked for an hour, using those porous condoms. The poor guy didn't know what hit him as I shot a massive four-day load inside a condom that was good enough to stop babies, but not the swimmers I had in store for him. I knew I was acute, probably with a viral load in the millions. And several million little particles of virus seeped through those tiny pores in that lambskin and planted themselves in the fucker's tight little ass. When he left, he said, "that was a mistake. We shouldn't do this again." I just laughed and said "We probably don't need to." I kissed him on the cheek and sent him on his way. When he messaged me that we needed to talk a couple months later, I just ignored it. After all, I was in the middle of getting fucked by another big poz cock, and it was just about to spill some more microbes up into my willing, hungry guts. I still don't have a poz test result, but fuck am I having fun getting the loads I can while I hold off on going to find out.

I am HIV neg. Now that my status is out of the way, I can say for certain, right or wrong, that there is a growing number of guys that are willing and ready to just stay off meds. This isn't a fantasy or story but real life. Need to have their head examined? That's not up to me. I'm not about to judge anyone. It's their choice. I am in the middle. What's the point of being pozzed if you go on meds right away? May as well have been on prep. However, for anyone who ends up with AIDS through no fault of your own, then in real life that's not cool. For the chasers and gifters and for those who "don't care," however then enjoy being poz! Otherwise, use a (gulp) condom or BE sure of your partner's status.

My initial diagnosis was full blown AIDS 750K vl and 68 t-cells.

I can't say for certain, but I likely got knocked up in Key West!

I love men who want to hurt me or cause me pain while they fuck me . It really is agony when a very big cock rips into my cunt this way , it often takes several minutes for it to even become bearable . I really dohate the pain, especially when it’s unexpected .but when my man is loving it I’ll endure anything . i prefer sadistic men .most love using there Cock to cause pain so I can honestly say I secretly hope penetration starts this way every time

Saturday night I had two hookups: The first was a black guy off Grindr. Early 30s, huge, thick cock. Probably 10”. I could tell he was nervous so I started sucking him and he got real hard. I took a huge hit of poppers and he popped inside me after a little initial trouble getting it in. I’ll admit even with a fresh bottle of poppers, it hurt at first but I fought through it. He came after about 5 minutes. He said after: “well that was a first for me”. I asked what he meant and it was his first time having unprotected sex! He said it felt much better this way. ? About 20 mins later I was at the next grindr fuck. A Puetro Rican guy. Skinny guy but just as long of a cock as the first guy, but not as thick. He loved that I was preloaded and just shoved right inside me. He started jackhammering away. Lasted around 15 mins (I wasn’t keeping track but that’s my estimation). He busted and when he pulled out, a huge squirt of cum flew out of my hole and into the towel below. These two boys left me full and loose at the same time!

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.

Part 4. Lunchtimes could not come around fast enough for me as now on a daily basis I was looking to service cocks or have mine blown in the bus station toilets as even my work colleagues notice saying, “wow you never take lunch breaks, what happening?” “New me, I’m fed up taking lunch at my desk and need fresh air to clear my thoughts.” I notice some smirks but think nothing of it. I hurry to the public toilets, step in to a cubicle, sit and wait…it never takes long before the next door opens and closes, I glimpse the man as he faces the hole in the wall, casually unzips his fly then drops his electric blue trousers to the floor covering some flashy tan brogues. He reaches into his underwear and pulls out his enormous cock. I don’t think I had ever seen one as big as this before, it had to be at least 10 if not 11 inches long and thick as a baby's arm. I began to feel the fabric around my own dick get tighter as I sat there staring at it. I continued to watch as the man kept standing there and began slowly rubbing and stroking himself, now fully hard with a string of clear precum continually leaking the man stepped in front of the hole and slid his cock and balls through the large hole, pressing his body firmly against it presenting his genitalia to me in all its glory, saying "It's all yours." The thick, meaty, uncircumcised, black cock twitched and pulsed expectantly as if it had a life of its own. I carefully pulled his foreskin back with my fingers and then flicked the tip of my tongue at his frenulum. I enjoyed feeling his warm silky cock jump with each touch of my tongue. I released his foreskin and then lightly sucked his cock. The feeling of a man's foreskin sliding back and forth along his cock synchronised with my mouth and lips is awesome. My little helper for the best blowjob this cocksucker can give. I could tell he was well into this as he had his hands over the top of the divide wall for extra leverage and now I could hear the rapid breathing coming from the other side of the cubicle. He was going to cum soon I just knew it. I pulled his foreskin away from his sensitive mushroom head and held it tightly, exposing him completely to the sensations of my mouth and tongue. Very lightly, with a minimum of suction and a very quick tongue, I teased him to orgasm. I thought he was going to bring the wall down as he bucked hard through the hole and came. I struggled to keep up with the volume of cum being shot into my mouth. At one point, pulling I had to pull off him so I could swallow his cum load completely. As his ejaculation finished, I used my tongue to clean the whole length of his cock, carefully avoiding the balls until the last moment, and then very, very, lightly ran my tongue over them, the skin crinkled up as his balls shrunk. He quickly pulled everything back through to his side, pulled his trousers up and was out the door in a flash. Damn, High on lust, I would have loved to have backed up on that cock and have him fuck me senseless! With no one else around I reluctantly pulled the chain and walked out…only to find one of my co-workers in electric blue trousers and tan brogues stood at the sink, cock out washing my DNA off his flaccid but still huge penis. In panic I wasn’t sure what to do. Had Martin known it was me blowing him? had he followed me all the way from work? Heart pumping hard, the blood vessels in my temples banging like a drum and a sheen of sweat breaking out, I took a deep breath. “Martin, fancy meeting you here.” I blurted out, not too sure what reaction I would get…a reply or black eye perhaps? He spun round upon hearing my voice, cock still hanging out of his fly, "Mother fucker!" he all but shouted, "I’m damn sure I want some more of that shit, cock whore, Aaron told me about you! If I don’t make yourself available to us, your little secret will be broadcast all over work." I'm positive there is more to cum in part 5.

1:30 a.m. As they made their way to Crusher’s cabana, the garden was even busier than before. Chris was amazed by the cornucopia of men, their sizes, shapes, their varied form. He also saw that the entire grounds was dancing with yellow and green lightning bugs. They stood out against the dark forest, blinked and buzzed in the night air, appeared and disappeared like phantom particles of light. The men were in various stages of copulating. Pairs were making noisy use of the metal slings. A group of three men they passed—wait, these were the first guests to arrive, the bulky Latin, the distinguished Creole, and the large bear—were all pissing on a very happy host. Tobias was wallowing in a sand bed rubbing himself in their salty piss. It reminded Manetti that he needed to pee. Chris exchanged a smile with Tobias when Manetti smacked his leg. "Leg up on the chair." Chris did as he was told and Manetti, pushed his large flaccid cock up Chris' open hole. "Stay still," Manetti said. Chris felt a warmth flow into his body. His colon, having been expanded all day and night, was accepting quite a lot. Manetti really did have to pee like a race horse, and was inside Chris for a long time. Chris felt his chem piss working immediately, most likely because of the volume and its potent concentration. As he ended, Manetti squirted three final times and pulled out. "Keep it in," Manetti simply said and they continued their journey. Chris lost track of where they were going or why, only how pretty the dancing lights were and how happy Tobias looked gulping down three hot men’s urine. Manetti didn’t bother knocking on the cabana door but went right in, Chris following. Crusher had just done a line of coke and waved his hand over four remaining lines he’d laid out for them. Chris went first and while he wiped his nose told Crusher about all the fireflies in the garden. Crusher was pacing. He was in quite a state of agitation. He’d been doing blow for some time obviously. “Well, first of all, technically, they should be called ‘fire-beetles.” Crusher’s backlog of knowledge had hit a watershed moment. Though he held an M.S. and B.S. in Athletic Training with certifications from the National Strength and Conditioning Association and American College of Sports Medicine, he had a passionate hobby that occupied all his free time: bugs. His walls were framed with them. Mounted on pins, displayed all over his Soho loft. All their metallic colors, sizes that ranged from tiny to frighteningly big. The study of insects, entomology, was an undergraduate requirement, but that interest had stuck with him through the years. You’d think his home would be filled with Muscle & Fitness or Iron Man magazines, but you’d be wrong. Instead there were neat OCD stacks on the coffee table of American Entomologist and Entomologist’s Monthly. “Fireflies, lighting bugs—they’re interchangeable—are part of the Lampryridae family of insects in the beetle order Coleoptera,” he pronounced, pinching his nostrils, waiting for Manetti to do his line so they could get started. But he was on a roll and couldn’t stop if he wanted to: “The green and yellow light they produce—which lacks both infrared and ultraviolet frequencies, wavelength that range from 510 to 670 nanometers, that is, green and yellow—is in their butts, a chemical call luciferin. Yes, Manetti, from the Latin ‘Lucifer’ in case you’re wonder.” “I’m not,” said Manetti, squeezing his nostrils. Crusher went up to Chris and admired his dog collar. “How was Implant Andy?” Crusher asked them. Manetti asked how he knew the young man had implants. “Duh, man. Just look at the twink’s neck. Never lifted a weight in his life.” “Sweet piece of tail though,” Manetti volunteered. ‘Scooter, here, helped me tag him when Brunswick wasn’t looking.” Manetti patted Chris cheek. Chris was happy, had dropped his towel and started pulling unconsciously on his cock. “Anyway, when the luciferin combines with oxygen, calcium and adenosine, it produces their bioluminescence.” “Shut the fuck up, man,” complained Manetti. He’d heard Crusher go off on these coke jags before. “Wow,” Chris said. “I thought they just were just wiggling their butts, like I seen in cartoons.” He found the idea funny, wiggled his own butt in illustration, and giggled. Crusher paced to the bathroom and ran the faucet. He wet his fingers and sniffed some drops into his nose, snorting deep. “Wiggling their butts is exactly what they’re doing. They have two weeks in summer to attract a mate and lay eggs before they croak.” He brought from the bathroom two c-notes and gave them to Manetti. “This Towel Party is just another ritual like theirs, everyone wiggling their butts, only we only got one night. So, get over here, Scooter, and start wiggling your butt. One hundred to fuck him, two for a fist. What about if I want him to eat my shit?" It was hard for Crusher to stand in one place. He went to the window and opened the drapes, then decided against that, and closed them again. "No scat. No animals," Manetti stated, all business. "What about if I want to eat his shit?" "On the house." Crusher placed a rim chair next to the bed. "Okay, kid. Take a seat." Chris sat on the rim chair and stroked his dick, while Crusher squirmed under him and started twirling his tongue around the boy's hole. Manetti again raised his finger at the kid and he stopped playing with himself. "Ah, dude, you're a sloppy mess. That Brunswick's cum around your hole or Manetti's?" Chris’ eyes were spinning, feeling Crusher playing with his hole like he was, so Manetti answered for him it was Brunswick’s. Crusher tongued a variety of flavors, piss, lube, cum, digging his tip between Chris' ass lips. Chris' involuntarily relaxed his hole from the erotic twirling Crusher’s tongue was providing. A flush of Manetti's piss suddenly spurted into Crusher's open mouth. He gulped down as much as he could, the remaining simply flooded the bamboo floor. "Well, pig, I hope you enjoy fresh chem piss," Manetti said. “Free of charge.” "Okay, off," Crusher said, nudging Chris off the rim seat. "On the bed. Let's see how much of Uncle Crusher you can take." "Yes, Sir," Chris replied. Manetti had already positioned himself at the headboard and motioned Chris to lie between his legs. He had a row of poppers lined up next to him. Chris put his towel under his ass and laid back in Manetti's lap lifting up his legs. Manetti grabbed his ankles, exposed his hole, and kept his leg suspended. "Manetti, lemme see your arm." Manetti held one his out. Crusher compared the length of his arm to Manetti's. "How far up the kid's ass have you gone?" he asked. Manetti pointed to the crook of his arm, which corresponded to the start of Crusher's bulging bicep. "Let's see if I can take him to long head. Think I can stretch your pussy that far, boy?" Crusher asked, pointing a good two inches beyond his elbow. "Dunno. I hope so, Sir." He wiggled his butt excitedly. Manetti held out an open popper bottle and he took in several hits. "Oh, baby, look at this sloppy pussy," Crusher said, sending a greased hand into Chris hole up to his knuckles. "Somebody's been a busy little cunt. Look at your hole. So tight." He began trading hands without going in but pressing them harder each time. Chris pushed against his alternating hands, wanting one of them inside him. "Whoa! Look at the hungry cunt, sucked me right in. Good pussy. Gotta be a record." Chris looked up at Manetti, who tweaked his nipples. That made him hornier so he spread his legs wider for Crusher to pull out and push in another hand. So far Crusher was using open hands, not a fist. Chris was receptive, pushing a bit to get over Crushers big knuckles and accepting the girth of his wrists. Crusher was a twister and, once inside Chris' hole, like to give a half twirl stimulating the colon walls, preparing Chris to take some major forceful punches. Crusher's technique didn't hurt as much as cause an overload of stimulation every time he entered and spun his hand, every knuckle gliding roughly around Chris rectum. Manetti made him take another hit so Crusher could advance further into him. Poppers made his want abuse, which, as he got used to it, turned to desire, wanting Crusher to push in deeper no matter if it hurt. Crusher quickly got to a place where Chris’ colon was locking up, forcing him to turn to a slower continuous approach. Crusher himself let Manetti give him a hit of poppers and got into Chris' headspace, eyeing him closely for signals he could penetrate his hole more deeply. It was a silent affair, visible only by seeing tendons move on Crusher's forearms that connected to fingers, testing, twisting, prodding, retreating, advancing, finding an advantage and moving the whole hand at once, like an army conquering, disarming, taking over an inch more of new turf. An inch is mile in a body, a chamber that is conquered is slid into, a hand suddenly making itself at home. A conquered territory gives up any previous rights and accommodates the intruder: twenty-seven bones of the hand cram into a tight new space. The longer it remains the more at home it feels in the conquered chamber, both to the hand and chamber itself. The connection is as astonishing as a conquered people learning the habits of an invading army. A common language is born, a mutual cooperation. The desire for stretching, for working out cramps, for sensual explorations, what happens when I do this? An infinitesimally small movement shoots out tectonic disruptions within the body. Or nothing is disturbed, and the hand feels free to continue its journey. Crusher's hand played inside Chris like a maestro plays every instrument on stage. He'd obvious had a lot of practice, but because of the enormity of his musculature not many could take him in very far. That's why he was fascinated by how much of Chris he was able to take in such a short about of time. After the initial warm up of punching his ass then changing over to easy pistoning, Crusher laid on the bed at a right angle to Chris’ opened butt and proceeded to steadily climb inside him. Inch by inch he was soon up to his elbow, with Chris squirming and surrendering in delight. Even though Crusher wasn't yet as deep as Manetti had been, Crusher was stretching him out width-wise much farther than Manetti had. Crusher occasionally pulled out, and using his second hand, a finger, two fingers, three, eventually four, to supply an additional stretch that Chris not only enjoyed, but after a hit of poppers, participated in actively. With a determined, lasciviously expression on his face, he impaled himself on the proffered forearm and digits. Once stretched he could accommodate the incredible girth of Crusher's herculean forearm and concentrate solely on breathing into and loosening the next chamber, release any obstacle for the hand’s journey to continue. In this way, the pair, or if you considered Manetti as part of the package—tweaking Chris' nipple, holding his legs occasionally, urging him to lose himself with another hit of poppers, generally playing coach on the sidelines—this triumvirate collectively took Chris past Crushers elbow in just under an hour. As soon as Crusher passed his elbow through Chris hole, Crusher let out a whistle. "Thar she goes," he said. Chris who had been huffing and puffing through the last few centimeters, threw his head back in Manetti lap. A milestone achieved. Manetti rewarded the boy by releasing a long drool of spit that ran from his lips to the boy’s open mouth. “Who's a hole whore now?” Manetti asked. “I am, Sir,” Chris replied, with a face that alternated between anguish and joy. Manetti pinched his nips hard, a sort of congratulations. This had, however, a domino effect and made Chris squeeze his ass lips tightly around Crusher's arm. The upper arm, the humerus, before all the muscles and tendons are attached, is slightly thinner than the bones at the elbow. Manetti pinching, and in turn Chris squeezing Crusher’s arm, clamped down on this narrower area before the bicep begins, and the aforementioned long head of the bicep along with a lot more Crusher, two inches to be exact, went into Chris in a very short amount of time. An inch of Crusher's mass was a lot for Chris to take in two seconds, two inches was overwhelming, and everyone instantly felt an on-coming crisis in the making. Even coach Manetti on the sidelines looked worried. Everyone froze to see if this would be an anatomic emergency. In fact—huzzah!—the opposite was true. It opened up in Chris the new world of realizing he was far Past the Elbow! Actually, quite a bit more. With Manetti holding Chris head in suspended alarm, stroking his face in case he had to talk the boy out of panicking, Chris relished both the relief of being stretched less than a moment ago, combined with the depth of Crusher now stuffed deep and expanding further inside his colon. There was the added tender concern he saw in Manetti face. In gratitude that Manetti was watching out for him, he turned his head and started licking Manetti dark skinned cock. Happiness reined in Pleasure Island, as Chris imagined himself Pinocchio being led astray by a beautiful fox and a clever cat. Pleasure Island is where he wanted to stay with the two of them. The final seduction came when Crusher flexed his enormous bicep. Ripples of euphoria spread through Chris’ body. A new intimacy was uncovered between Crusher and Chris, hidden from Manetti. Crusher communicated through his bicep stretching Chris in the most intimate of ways. Chris communicated back by clamping down on Crusher's bicep. They both looked at each other in amazement. They exchanged communiques, a Morse code, if that's what you want to call it, telegraphed between them again and again. In communicating this way, a secondary manifestation occurred: the expansion and relaxation of Chris' hole additionally allowed Crusher to fist him deeper. Crusher saw what Chris was gearing up to do. He said one word to him: "Careful." Chris considered this only for a second before deciding to take the risk. He pushed himself away from Manetti, physically pushed against Manetti’s body, and bared down onto Crusher's entire arm. For his part, Crusher relaxed his bicep and triceps, as much as he could, and allowed Chris, who was beyond reasoning with at this point, to swallow his arm all the way to his pit. The final moment came when Chris felt the slight tickle sensation of Crusher’s bushy armpit hair brushing his hairless hole. The two of them laid there completely relaxed, somewhat exhausted, careful not to move. But Crusher was Crusher, and he ever so slightly made a muscle inside Chris. Chris gasped in astonishment. Manetti looked at him confused since there seemed to be no movement on the surface once he had taken in Crusher’s arm, but the tectonic plates inside Chris' body was enough to cause an earthquake. He tried to keep his body from shaking since he knew he was in an extremely vulnerable position. Crusher pumped his arm again. It was obscenely pleasurable, like his bowels were speaking, that the greatest shit of his life was about to occur. And, in truth, it was about to occur. With nowhere to go, Crusher started to evacuate from Chris’ body, and with it Chris’ entrails were dragged along Crusher’s arm with him. And as he had tortured Manetti earlier, Crusher continually crept back in an inch for every two given up. This lasted a long and confusing time. Chris lost track of where Crusher was in his body, couldn't tell if he was coming in or going out. Every time he realized less of Crusher's arm was in him he too had to fight against not fully impaling himself back onto Crusher's entire arm, all the way back up to the armpit. Another quarter hour flew by, then another, but Manetti wasn't looking at the time any more. You couldn't put a price tag on how far the boy had advanced or how hard it made him to see this muscleman buried in this skinny blond boy. When Crusher finally release Chris, Chris saw his arm was covered in butt slime. Bits of yellow, brown and pink spotted his arm. Chris laid there extinguish once Crusher released him, but Manetti immediately admonished him, saying, "Always thank your Top, boy." Chris slowly sat sideways on his legs unsteadily, propped up on his arm. Still he got close enough to Crusher to reach up and give him a deep and appreciative kiss. Crusher reciprocated holding his arm high in the air, covered as it was with the biological graffiti he'd pulled out of Chris’s body. Manetti grabbed the back of his neck, reprimanding him, "Not like that, fist pig." He pushed the kid’s face into the bodybuilder's raised arm. Chris made his way to his knees, placed his hand behind he back, and began licking Crusher's arm. Crusher twisted it one way then the other so Chris could find all the bit and pieces of himself traced along Crusher's indomitable arm. Satisfied, Crusher's sprinkled the remains of white powder on this dresser top and cut it into six lines. Each of them inhaled two, then Manetti and Chris went to find the final tricks of the night. *** 4 a.m. Abashed the devil stood, And felt how awful goodness is, and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely—saw, and pined His loss Ben Prior stood with six other men stroking his cock watching the tableaux on the black lacquered table. The other men along the bamboo wall recognized Big Ben, if by nothing else the multiple adornments of his cock, and were probably as aroused by his presence as by the dining room table’s tableaux. Tall, still handsome even with his shaved tattooed head, bushy chestnut beard, and his back’s terrain of welts that had become his signature. The welts from lashes he’d taken over the last few years were now permanent scars. A back as rough as a topographic map of the Alps. His scarification, brandings, and other body modification were a far cry from when he first blew onto the sex industry scene ten years ago: the cocky, brash, beautiful long-haired surfer boy, slim, sleek as a gazelle, gorgeous—the envied hunk next door. Over the years his taste in S&M grew to the exclusivity of whipping, giving and receiving, a niche of an already niche market. It was a shame the industry lost such a golden boy, unless your tastes were aligned. Riding crops, bullwhips, floggers, paddles, canes, cat o’ nine tails—he wielded them all with mastery, and knew with great familiarity both ends of the lash. In dungeons, palaces, monasteries, seedy motel rooms, basically anywhere in the world that partook in ceremonies where these instruments were employed, he was a well-known practitioner. Men paid dearly, and not just in coin, to abuse or be abused by him. How does it go? Some of them want to abuse you, some of them want to be abused by you. Indeed. Saudi princes, South American cartel chiefs, Fascists in exile, Monsignors banished to cloisters of low esteem—there were legions of men who were drawn to the persona Ben had burnished, first in Drax’s films but then by means of independent entrepreneurship. No mere Wall Street titan, Washington insider, or European monarch stood up to Big Ben and his whip. They bowed and scraped for his lash, or, when he felt a need to indulge a masochistic whim and the price was right, purchased his hide for a night, a week, a fortnight, or a month. A middle-aged club owner with slicked-back hair and mob ties presently employed him at his beach house in The Pines. A towel had been left at the club owner’s door the night before. Foregoing attending since he was a mass of bruises, scars from flogging, a broken lip, sporting two black eyes, and had been up for the past four days on meth, he’d given the towel, mask and address to Ben as a gratuity for the excellent work he performed over the last two weeks. Ben had also been up for the past ninety-six hours, but he’d endured far longer sessions and wasn’t the one needing to heal. The tableaux on the table wasn’t unique save the boy wearing a popper gas mask covering his head at the center of it all. He looked awfully young, maybe not even legal. Ben knew Tobias wouldn’t invite a minor, but hell, the kid looked like they could all get arrested for just being in the same room as the kid. Small, extremely skinny, hairless, the boy was being fucked by the wrestling world’s Santiago “The Skull” Gutierrez, a handsome man with rippling muscles, high cheekbones, almond eyes, smooth copper skin, a single tattoo draped across his chest that read I am what I am, and a big, black uncut dick that he was putting to good use. The kid was taking it like a pro, his legs spread wide for The Skull to pummel. The boy was simultaneously satisfying two others: the sculptor Baptiste Germain, whom Ben had partied with several times at the baths, a stately sixty-year-old Creole with long grey dreadlocks; and a big bear that had to weigh over two-fifty, maybe even three, who looked as if his could snap the kid’s arm like a twig. Both men were riding the boy’s forearm practically down to the table. Santiago’s gyrations were getting quicker. It was apparent he was about to nut. His pelvis thrusts became harder, pulling the boy’s hips to him faster. All at once he heaved forward, his neck arched back as he shot into the boy. He held the position for a pure moment of enjoyment, then performed a series of thrusts accompanied by embellished roars of might while he pounded his chest in an over-the-top theatrical ring-worthy performance. He unceremoniously pulled out of the kid, flung residual cum and butt juice at the boy with his dick, and walked out of the limelight. The sculptor and the bear climbed off as well and the kid flipped around on his knees, ass high, taking off his popper mask, awaiting the next comer. Ben felt the assembled men wordlessly acquiesced to him. For a moment he contemplated the small bubble butt, then noticed a mounted katana blade on a side table. He took it out of its sheath, feeling its cold, silver blade and smacked the kid’s ass with it hard. The kid didn’t move or make a sound, even though the blade left a bright red outline across his cheeks. Ben was impressed. Not many men he dealt with would have been able to keep quiet. He raised the blade higher and with a whoosh that cut through the air, the blade landed again on the kid’s ass with a tremendous crack that even Manetti heard far off in his cabana while dicking Andy. Still the kid remained still, his ass defiantly in the air. The red mark left from the previous lash was joined by a crimson bruise that made a red X on his butt. He order the kid to count to ten. The boy obeyed, and with each count he received an additional wallop on his ass. He made no protest, no extraneous whimper, simply took what was coming to him. After the ten lashes Ben sheathed the blade and set it on its mount, and approached the boy ass. He rubbed his hand appreciative over the velvety smooth cheeks, feeling the heat of the crimson bruises. He knew passing his hand over the fresh bruises stung, and yet the boy remained stoic. Only his little brother Chris could rival the silence of this kid during a beating like he had given him. He felt the boy’s asshole and pushed two fingers into it. The boy was extremely open and tempting. Ben pushed in three fingers, then quickly followed up with a fourth. The hole was drawing him in, there was no doubt. He pulled his hand out and made a fist between the kid’s cheeks. He pressed and with very little effort pushed his giant knuckled mitt inside. The kid grunted but otherwise accepted him without fanfare. He was curious about how much this boy could take. He pulled out and punched in with his other fist. He hadn’t applied lube but the kid was slick from a night of men fucking and fisting him, he didn’t need to. He crouched in a boxer’s pose, bracing himself before the sloppy gape, and pounded the hole relentlessly. The boy registered only occasional fucks and moans, farting out extraneous air along with copious fluids. Ben slowed down and exchange rapid punching with alternating deep arm fisting. The kid could not only take it, but purred deep groans of pleasure. He pulled up along his side, and wrapped an arm around the boy’s torso. With his other arm, he pistoned his forearm from shallow to deep, a depth nearly to his elbow. The kid continued burbling obscenities, begging Ben to wreck his hole. This was the youngest pig he’d ever met and it induced a long-dormant excitement. He was surprised to see he was growing his first “Big Ben” boner in over a year. This boy’s ass wasn’t going to waste. The men who hung back in the gloom started yanking faster as Ben turned the boy over and spread his legs. Chris looked up at the bearded bald guy who was about to fuck him. There was a spider web inked onto his skull, both arms were sleeves of dark ink that had fishes like in the coy pond, swimming in blue swirls of water from his wrists to his shoulders. And what shoulders! Crusher was the most muscular man he’d met but, maybe because of his height, this guy looked bigger. Lats rose from his back like insect wings, his neck had muscles that went from ears straight to shoulders, and the only thing more veiny than his mountainous arms were the veins that stood out on his cock. And what a cock. He was awestruck by he beast that was about to enter and destroyed his hole. Rings and rods sprouted in all directions. The man slammed inside of him without warning. A ripple of metal bars spaced evenly under the man’s shaft stuttered sensations he’d never before felt. Any one of them would have cause him to jump, but in rapid succession he became overwhelmed, stopped processing thought and became only aware of the sensations deep within his hole. The last thought he clung to before the onslaught of anal annihilation was where had he seen the shoulder and rib dragon tattoo before? (It was that bit of meat stuck in your tooth that your tongue keeps poking at.) Ben enjoyed watching the twink struggle with all the new feelings he was triggering in his hole. Like a xylophone, the six barbells of the Jacob’s Ladder along his shaft was playing the back of his colon and lower lip of his sphincter. The apadravya going from the top of his head to the bottom of his piss slit was driving the bottom and top of the kid’s hole wild, especially when the upward curve of his cock pushed the top metal bead against the kid’s prostate. He knew jabbing the kid forcefully scraped his prostate mercilessly. He could see the confusion and the titillation it was causing through the boy’s mask. (It was that scratch in the middle of your back that, over your shoulder or under your wing, you can’t get to.) The five dydoe piercing over the top ridge of Ben’s cock making up his king’s crown, raked across the top walls of the boy’s hole, so with each thrust by an already monstrously large cock mauling his hole, there was an extra eighth-inch of metal jewelry that added sensations from tingling to clawing in an already over-stimulated anus. Ben watched the boy’s struggling to make sense of what he was feeling, driving out thought leaving only fleeting gasps of consciousness. (It was that apprehension of greeting someone you know but whose name eludes you because the context is all wrong.) “Oh,” Chris said. Somewhere back inside his lizard brain, the dragon tattoo appeared in that photo with Manetti. On the refrigerator. Barely able to speak, over-wrought with carnal feelings off the charts, his motor functions quite in tatters, the realization was about to make him cum. He fumbled with his mask, fumbled with words, cumming as he spoke even without touching himself. “Ben,” he stated. Men along the bamboo wall shot over both of them. Time slowed down. Rain of semen, drop by drop, hit Chris and Ben. Ben looked down, and not having ejaculated in over a year, not having slept in ninety-six hours, was certain he was hallucinating. He was fucking his baby brother. The thought itself made him spew relentlessly without pause. He couldn’t stop fucking the hole he was in or break out of the feedback loop of how this couldn’t be his little brother, not here, not at a Fire Island orgy. But the squealing inside the feedback loop pieced together why the kid could take the beating he did, the same beatings he took regularly from Chris’ biological father, how thin and small he knew his brother to be, and in that feedback loop how good his hole felt. He couldn’t stop fucking while the screeching of the feedback continued, while the world made no sense. How had he gotten here? How could his hole have gotten so loose that he could punch and piston him so effortlessly? He pumped the remains of his orgasm as he removed his mask. Though Chris recognized immediately that it was Ben, at the same time, struggled with the thought that though he knew with complete certainty who he was, he couldn’t see an iota of his brother in the steroid, scarred body before him. Random pieces of Ben’s face started to come to him: the eyes, the brow, the lips, even the size of his cock. His cock. Slowly Ben pulled out of Chris, each millimeter causing a thrill mixed with madness. When Ben finally was out, the man who had real Lords and drug lords scrape before him, the man who princes and scum bags bowed before, the man who clerics begged, and middle-aged congressmen weep, fled himself in abject terror, hiding his face, stumbling for the garden gate, pining for a line he couldn’t uncross. Ever. Chris felt his hole ooze Ben’s ejaculate. With a finger he tasted it. Then tasted some more. *** Brunch Early morning fog had burned away, but left the island overcast and humid. The compound’s residence were stirring. Brunswick and Andy had caught an early seaplane back to La Guardia, to enjoy a day in the city, and then back to Los Angeles. Crusher was showering. Manetti was trying to rouse Chris with not much luck. There was a knock at the gate, and two men entered the garden with a large tan Great Dane. “Yoo-hoo,” the older of the two men said. He was in his late sixties, wearing an ill-fitting black toupee and a yellow ascot. He scanned around the compound looking for Tobias or Mitchel. “Are you decent?” “Never!” Tobias exclaimed, coming out of the main house to greet them in grey khakis and a red hibiscus Hawaiian shirt. “Boris, you old she-devil, you never age.” Boris, the man in the ascot, waved him away. The two men kissed each other on the cheek. “If you flatter him this early, his ego is never going to fit back on the boat,” said the other man, Roger, holding back the big dog. He was in his early sixties, had thin white hair grown long in back and a prominent receding hairline. Except for the flair of the yellow ascot, a jaunty accessory to celebrate the beginning of their week on the island—most likely, as a couple, their last—both men wore black. Matching black short-sleeved shirts with black cuffed Bermuda shorts. Afraid of the dog, Tobias air-kissed Roger. Mitchel came out in an untied blue terrycloth bathrobe over a lime green bathing suit, looking worn out from the night before. “Ladies, so nice to see you. Hello Wallace.” The dog wagged its tail. “Coffee’s ready. Indoors or out?” Roger brushed the air. “Indoors. Too many bugs out here,” he said leading the way with Wallace ahead of him. Tobias and Mitchel exchanged glances, then forced smiles. While the four men settled in the living room drinking their coffee, Manetti came out naked and threw himself in the pool. The events of the party were cobwebs in his brain. He’d been hard all night on Chris, but in spite of the discipline he imposed and some of the torments he put the kid through, he thought the kid had enjoyed all the attention he’d received. He also thought, if the kid every got up, he’d have a changed boy on his hands. He certainly was worshipped and adored by the men, reported Santiago Gutierrez, especially by the exalted embrace Ben showered on him, whose sudden appearance, rhapsodic climax, and then abrupt departure capped the evening for everyone. When Santiago delivered Chris finally back to Manetti around daybreak, Chris was incoherent and literally speaking in tongues. The four men drinking coffee and chit-chatting in the living room observed Manetti pushing himself off the pools gray slates, and strutting over, with his hefty meat swaying, to a stack of towels. “Surely, you’re familiar with Master Drax Productions?” Tobias asked his guests. They nodded with surely smiles. “Then you must know our adult entertainer friend, Mike Manetti?” he ventured to his guests, as Manetti, mostly dry, slid open the screen door and entered shaking his wet mane. Wallace the dog barked. Manetti eyed him with suspicion. Tobias couldn’t be more pleased to intimate his friendship with such a studly presence in his home. “Oh, don’t worry,” Roger said, admiring the broad mat of curly black hair. “He’s tougher than he looks.” “Just like Manetti,” quipped Mitchel. The men laughed as Manetti raise one of his dark eyebrows. “There’s coffee?” he asked, reminding himself to smile at the house guests. “Help yourself, in the kitchen,” Tobias said. He began filling the morticians in on what Manetti had told him Mister Drax was proposing regarding a boat purchase. He embellished the pirate and sailor story, adding some lurid details from his imagination. Mitchel nudged him halfway through a very detailed gangbang scene, to get back to the proposal. Just then they heard a splash in the pool, and saw Chris blond head bobbing up and down in the water. Boris was in an outright trance gazing after the boy. Roger looked at him nervously. Mitchel got up nonchalantly, excused himself, saying all the coffee mugs he’d forgotten to tell Mike were still in the dishwasher. He entered the kitchen with Manetti looking in several cabinets. Mitchel opened the steaming dishwasher and took out a mug and handed it to Manetti. While Manetti was pouring, he said, “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Manetti looked at him blankly. “This story of Chris’ last night. Some crooks. A dirty cop. This was a story on the local news yesterday. Some family was killed in Queens along with two escaped convicts. Is this part of that?” “No,” Manetti insisted. “The kid was high and trying to impress Brunswick with a far-fetched story.” “Tobias would believe that,” Mitchel said, handing Manetti a carton of milk out of the refrigerator. Manetti pour some in his coffee and gave it back. “Tobias would, I don’t. You don’t teach law for twenty years and don’t immediately see links in stories, far-fetched or otherwise. And I know you. I’ve known your family since you were a little kid. I was the first man you came out to. Don’t you know how much I’ve hated seeing you associate with someone like Drax? And this story the boys jabbers on about, I’m afraid for you, Michael.” “Don’t be. Everything’s on the up and up. Drax sent me out with cash, being he’s more comfortable without a paper trail, the IRS and everything.” “See, sweetie, this is where the hair on my arm stands up.” Theirs was a very complicated history. Tobias, to Manetti, was a client, a client he liked, but Mitchel was someone that went way back, someone he respected and trusted. Someone, time and again, whose advice he refused to heed, and whose eyes he always found it hard to meet. But that morning in the kitchen, he forced himself to, putting on his most captivating smile. “Don’t worry, Uncle Mitch. I got this all worked out. Believe me.” He put a hand on Mitchel’s shoulder and pulled him in. Hugged him and kissed his cheek. Manetti returned with his coffee and took up residence in an Eames lounge chair next to a display case of Japanese objects d’art, his towel wrapped around his washboard waist. Roger gave him a hungry look, which Manetti returned with a crocodile smile. Mitchel followed back from the kitchen and sat next to Tobias on their black leather couch. “So,” Mitchel said brightly. “Master Drax Productions is looking for a property for a sea-faring adventure and we thought of you.” “Sweetie, we’re passed that,” Tobias scolded. “We’re talking price now. Two hundred thousand, our guests have offered.” Manetti sipped his coffee, then while watching Roger, ran his tongue over his full bottom lip. “I can give you one fifty today, cash, if you give me title and bill of sale and the keys.” Boris scoffed. “Cash? You carry that much with you?” Just then Chris opened the screen door with his towel wrapped around him. The water had woken him up, but he still seemed dazed and looked at the two men dressed in black in a fog but also with a bit of suspicion. “The production company prefers cash transactions. I won’t go into detail but records, paper trails, sometimes get in the way.” Chris came and sat on the ottoman in front of Manetti. “Boy, where do you belong and why are you hiding in that towel?” Chris rose from his seat, folded his towel and sat on it cross-legged naked. Boris’ eyes almost fell out of his head. He had to shift so that his stirring cock wouldn’t tent in his shorts. “It sound shady, this no paper trail,” he said uncomfortably. “Well,” Manetti said. “Take Chris driver’s license. Sure it says he’s eighteen. It would have to if he were to be in an adult film, wouldn’t it?” Chris turned around and looked at Manetti confused. Manetti raised his brows, and Chris turned back around taking his cue. Boris and Roger examine the skinny, hairless boy. They could only imagine how old he really was. “One eighty,” offered Boris, staring as the boy as Chris touched himself for his benefit. “Sixty,” Manetti countered, leaning forward as his towel parted, displaying his round hairy balls cushioning his famously monstrous thick cock. “And we’ll throw in a free fuck for both of you—both me and the kid. Deal?” “Deal!” cried Boris and Roger simultaneously. The screen door opened and Master Drax entered, followed by his servant Jamal who clasped a large case. “Deal?” he asked scanning the faces in the room. He smiled at the boy who, while he played with himself, sat on the floor with a full erection. “Hello, Christian. What a pleasure to see you.” He inspected Manetti’s stoic face. “What sort of deal would that be?” He then shut the heavy sliding glass door, and locked it. “Hello, doggy.”

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.

Wow! The slam took me from zero to sixty in less than five seconds flat. After I got done coughing, I had the most intense desire to be fucked in all my life. All that I could manage to utter was "fuck yeh" over and over. Rocky helped me out out the chair and into the sling, while Alex was turning on TVs with porn on around the room. Instinctively, I reached down to grab my dick, but Dad grabbed my hands and used restraints to cuff both to the chains holding the sling up, saying "Boy, there is only my dick around this house, and if I choose, more. But, it's my choice, not yours. Tonight I'm gonna show you how much you'll love your cunt." Then, looking at Rocky, Dad said, "Grab me a bag and a suitable plug for your baby bro." Quickly complying, Rocky brought over the bag with the clear crystals, some lube, and a solid three inch black butt plug. "I think he can take this" he told Dad. Dad lubed up the plug and wiped some of the crystals on it, then began to work it slowly into my hole. Fuck did it burn, but Rocky stood beside me, tweaking my nips and telling me that everything will be good and that the plug was to help me relax for what would come later. "Wanna see something?" He asked. Nodding, which was about all I could manage after the slam and now even more being slowly worked into my hole, Rocky walked up to me and pulled his jock off to the side. Covering his dick was a cage of some sort. I looked puzzled. "It's a chastity cage, all of Dad's boys wear them when they are here. Only Dad and who he chooses are allowed to not wear one in his presence. Notice the keys on the chain around his neck? Those are for the cages that Alex and I have on right now. Since you're here, Dad will probably unlock of us tonight, but not both. I suspect you will have one before the weekend is out." With that he grinned and walked off to join Alex at the table where the syringes were. Just as he did, my cunt gave up its resistance and Dad got the plug in. Now I was plugged, high as a kite, and cuffed to a sling. My life was changing, and clearly for the better. Dad walked over and Alex, Rocky, and Dad prepped to slam their syringes. Dad went first, and as he did, both Rocky and Alex knelt before him taking turns on his cock. As the slam hit Dad, his dick grew to an impressive ten inches helped along by the two hot stud boys who were worshipping his manhood. As his rush subsided, Dad told Alex to stand, "Tonight, we need two tops, so I am going to unlock you" and with that took one of the keys and removed Alex's cage. Alex grabbed his slam, "Rocky, you know what to do" Dad said. Rocky moved over and began to worship Alex's cock. As it grew to its full potential, Alex repeated the same procedure as Dad. But for some reason, neither really coughed, they just got this evil look. Finally Rocky was allowed to do his slam. As he rushed I noticed that his jock was getting pretty wet with pre cum. "Rocky, join you lil bro in the sling" Dad ordered. He jumped right in. Dad walked up to me, slowly began to remove the plug. Damn, I felt an emptiness when it came out, but that was replaced by Alex's tongue as Dad watched and smiled. That was when I knew that I would become one of his boys. More to come...

Part Two The following Thursday I called the number they had given me from a pay phone on the way home from school. I couldn't have a long distance call showing up on my grandparents phone bill. I got right through to Alex and told him that I would be there tomorrow night. "Great! Sort of figured you would find a way to get here". He then gave me their address and told me to be there by 7. The next night I arrived with fifteen minutes to spare. Rocky let me in. "We have a surprise for ya. Tonight you get to meet our dad." I looked at him in a funny way, since Alex and Rocky don't look a thing alike, " Why do I want to meet your folks?" Rocky looked at me and started to laugh, "He's not our real dad, but we do share the same DNA." I just looked at him sort of puzzled and figured I must have missed something when I was sleeping through 10th grade biology class. A few minutes later Alex arrived and announced that we had better get showered or we were gonna be late. Both Alex and Rocky showered together, then Rocky came for me as Alex again hung the enema bag. "Better be good and clean for tonight lil bro, Dad can put you through some paces." With that, they left and I got ready. We arrived at Dad's house exactly at 8. It was the same house they had taken me to the week previous. It being much earlier, a young guy, not much older than myself answered the door. Something didn't seem exactly right about him I noted mentally, but being polite I went in with Rocky and Alex. We were escorted to Dad's office. "Boys, you did well" bellowed a beefy fortyish daddy type from his chair behind the largest desk I'd ever seen. "Boys, ya'll go downstairs and get everything ready while the boy and I have a talk." Rocky and Alex left the room, as did the funny looking assistant. I was now all alone with a guy who I literally wanted to worship, but he was all business. He shuffled some papers around, and startled me when he knew my name, "Cheyenne, I see you have done fairly well in school, you come from a decent, yet religiously misguided family, is that correct?" Startled, I just nodded. "I know you have better manners than that, boy. You come from a good family in Alabama. You will address me as Sir." "Yessir" I replied. " I have had you investigated over the past week to see if you might be a suitable match for our family here. It does seem that you would be a good match." "What do you mean by your family, Sir?" "Well, I help out deserving young guys such as yourself in exchange for a few minor things, such as sex and some occasional low level drug dealing at the bars." " I don't want to become a whore or a drug dealer, Sir." "It's not exactly like you think, you would basically service myself, some select friends, and so far as the dealing goes, I have so many connections with the DA's office you will never be arrested." Still nervous about it, he told me about how well his family has done. Dad is the president of the largest bank in Georgia and has business connections in every field. He told me that right now he had 4 boys currently in college and that they lived in two pairs here in the city. "If you accept, you will probably live with Rocky and Alex, although I will have to get a bigger apartment for the three of you. But there's no pressure. You have until at least June to make a decision. If you accept I can promise you that you'll graduate and get whatever job you want." "I have a total of twenty boys in my family, with four in college and the other sixteen in excellent positions around the city, one is even starting to have boys of his own." With that, the conversation ended and the funny looking guy reappeared and escorted me downstairs to where Rocky and Alex were. "Lil bro, you're gonna have the night of your life tonight, so get ready. Jump in the shower and use the attachment to clean out again,band then put these on" handing me a jock strap. I did as I was told, and when I came out of the bathroom I followed the voices. The hallway opened up to a room that had stuff that I couldn't even describe. In the middle hung two slings (I learned what they were really fast). Rocky and Alex were talking to Dad --about me and what they had observed when we had watched porn the weekend before. They could tell I was nervous, so Alex grabbed that familiar glass pipe again and told me to take a few hits. Just as I did I saw four syringes produced. Rocky looked at me with an evil grin, "Buddy, if you like the smoke, you're gonna love a slam. Now get in the chair." Now I was truly nervous. A tourniquet was wrapped around my left biceps and Dad grabbed a syringe with a black mark on it. "I think he'll like a full quarter for the first time, boys." With that I felt a pinch, looked down and could see red in the barrel and then holy fucking shit.... More to come...

Alex and Rocky left me plugged and in bed for maybe five minutes alone. They came back in, "Want some water, pig?" "Yes" I responded and was handed a bottle of water. They wanted to find out a bit more about me and a game of fifty questions started. Mostly about my background and what plans I had after I graduated high school. My plan had been to attend college, but with my folks kicking me out, that probably wasn't an option. I found out that both Alex and Rocky were engineering graduate students in Atlanta. "I think you may have some potential," Rocky said. Even in my fucked up state, I got interested really fast. Alex piped up, " Let's see what we can do to help ya out on the college thing. We know people that might be interested." After that we went back into the living room and continued to watch some really hot porn of various types. Both guys watched my reaction to the various fetishes involved, almost as if they were studying me. Sometime later, they both took turns fucking me and then I was given a heavy dose of G to knock me out. Sometime late in the afternoon I came around. Both Rocky and Alex were laying on the couch watching TV. " when ya gotta be back home?" Rocky asked. "I need to be back by tomorrow afternoon at the latest, so I need to be gone by noon tomorrow for sure". Both guys lit up with smiles. "Whatcha think of last night?" Alex asked. "It was fucking mind blowing." Alex shot back that tonight I could have a few drinks, maybe a joint, but no more. I had no idea at the time, hut I was still pretty high. One look in the mirror confirmed that, as my eyes still looked like saucers. Coming back into the living room, Rocky told me that I had some serious potential and that my laid back, humble attitude was a big plus. That night we went out again, but got back early and only fooled around a bit since I had to go home the next day. The next morning we got some food and exchanged numbers before retrieving my truck. With that, I was ready to head home. "Ya coming back next weekend lil bro?" Asked Alex. I said that I would call them on Thursday night and let them know. "Well, ya better. We should have an answer for your future plans by then." I got in my truck and left what had been the most eventful event in my lifetime up until then. On the way home I kept wondering about Rocky and Alex having matching biohazard tattoos with a date above it and the word "Brother" under it. Being young and naive, I just assumed it was a college frat thing. Little did I know that I would have a matching (except for the date) tattoo in less than four months.

1. Nathan I'm a professional photographer. Most of the time, my work involves taking pictures of stuff for catalogs. It's boring, but it pays the bills. Every once in a while, I get to do something more interesting, like someone who needs better pictures for online dating, or occasionally, my friend Thomas needs pictures for his porn movie business. I met Jason through Thomas. Thomas needed some stills of Jason for the website, and his usual photographer was on vacation. Generally, Thomas had twinky little boys in his movies, which didn't do much me. He had given me all three of Jason's movies, and I waited until the night before to even look at the cover. As I expected, most of the models did nothing for me, except for Jason. Rather than a skinny eighteen year-old, he was muscular. Not quite big enough to be a football player, but still, incredible muscles and a big cock. I watched all of his scenes intently, and although he always was the top, it seemed like he was genuinely into it, making out with the other boys, and sometimes even going down on them. Thomas didn't particularly care if his models wore condoms or not, which meant that only the most puritanical of them did. Jason was no exception, and all of his scenes ended with a huge unprotected cum shot right into the eager hole of the bottom. He was always hard enough to stick his cock in again at the end, and work the jizz a ittle deeper in. I ended the evening eager to see him in person. Jason was right on time, arriving at my place a few minutes before the six o'clock appointment. In real life, he was a little shorter than I expected; right about my height at 5'8", and maybe twenty pounds heavier than me, around 200lbs. Of course, all of that was extra muscle. He had close-cropped brown hair, and was clean shaven. At the time, I worried that I was reading too much into it, but there seemed to be an immediate attraction between us. I found him easy to work with. We started talking about each other, and he quickly volunteered that he was twenty, just out of high school, but waiting on college. He had been on the wrestling team and had been working out extensively ever since, which explained the musculature. He had brought a few different items of clothing, and I asked him to wear a tank top, a jock strap, and a pair of jeans. He started to change right in front of me, so I took the opportunity to start taking pictures. He was a natural show-off, letting me get pictures of his chest, nipples, slowly revealing his cock and ass. One thing I found interesting was that it always seemed easier to get pictures of his ass than his cock. It was almost like he was hiding his dick, and showing off his ass. That was odd behavior for a top, but I wasn't complaining. As he pulled on the jock strap for the actual photo shoot, I got a perfect shot of his ass. He even spread his cheeks, allowing me a great view of his hole. It had a little bit of fur around it, but was mostly smooth. After he was done dressing for the shoot, we moved over to where I had the lights set up. He started to pose for me, still showing off his amazing butt. I wanted to get into it, but thought he was just being a cocktease. "I've watched a few of your films. Are you always a top, even off camera?" I asked. "So, far, yes," Jason replied. "Yes? Have you thought about bottoming before?" "Thomas really wants me to bottom. But it would have to be for the right man, of course." "Who would be the right man?" I asked. We continued to take pictures as we talked. Jason had removed his tank top and was now slowly unbuttoning his jeans, revealing his white jock strap. "He's got to be male. Probably about my height, muscular, a beard, a hairy chest, a wicked smile, a nice body." He was looking right at me as he said, "and amazing green eyes." I didn't need any more hints to realize that he was describing me. "And would you let him fuck you bareback as well?" "I think so." "Would it be a problem if the top was poz?" "Yes, but..." He stopped talking for a bit, and I moved in as he let his jeans fall to the ground, continuing to take pictures. He went on, slowly, "I don't give my bottom a choice. I always fuck them bareback. To me, it seems disrespectful to make a top wear a rubber." He turned around, letting me see his perfect ass, framed by the white jock strap he was wearing. He bent down slightly, letting me get a glimpse of his hole. There was a spray of hair around his hole. He tried to say something, but he kept starting over. Finally, "I want to feel your skin next to mine," clearly emphasizing the word 'your'. I thought this was where he was going, but I hadn't wanted to get my hopes up. But with his admission, I knew I was going to spill my seed inside of him tonight, and decided I wanted it now. I lowered my camera, and moved in, starting to lick his ass a bit. He moaned as my tongue reached his virgin hole, pushing himself against my face. I could feel my beard rubbing against his ass cheeks, getting my tongue right into his hole. We didn't say anything for a while. We just got used to our new closeness, no longer hiding our desires and needs. Jason clearly needed to be fucked. As I pushed my tongue into him, I could feel how tight and hot his hole was, and how he pushed against me, trying to get anything and everything into him. As we worked together to loosen him up, he finally managed to put together a coherent sentence, "Please. Breed me tonight." That was all I needed to hear. I put down my camera, and told him to join me over in the bed. I got out some lube and poppers. He took the poppers and did a hit, as I started to finger him. It was clear from how tight he was, he hadn't been fucked much, if any. But, between his new found desire to get bred and the poppers, we quickly got first one, then two, and finally three fingers into him. From my experience, my dick was a little thicker than that, but I wanted him to really feel his first fuck. "Are you ready?" I asked. He nodded, "Yeah, I am." He reached down and felt my cock. It was hard as a rock, bobbing in the air, sniffing out his hole. "And you too, I can see." "Oh, yeah, I definitely am," I replied, as I arranged him on his back, put his muscular legs on my shoulders, and started to tease his hole with my cockhead. "You want this in you?" "Fuck yes." He took a long hit on the poppers, which was my cue to start working my cock into him. "Go slowly," he asked. "Don't worry. I want this to feel good for both of us." As much as I wanted to slam all eight raw inches right into him, I knew that would risk hurting him, and he'd want to stop. I did my best to go slowly, first getting the head inside of him. As it popped in, his face froze. I paused, just feeling the warmth of his hole. Finally, he relaxed and got used to my presence inside of him, letting me slide a little further in. "Ok?" I asked. He nodded, and I pressed in another inch or so. This time, there was no grimace of pain. "It feels good. Amazing." I pushed in another two inches, feeling my cock get enveloped in his hot and tight hole. After a few more seconds to get used to it, he asked, "Don't stop, please?" And I was only too happy to oblige. I took my time to get all the way into him. He was tight, as befitted an anal virgin, but was relaxing and opening up quickly. I had worked my way in carefully, and soon felt my balls hit his ass. I didn't rush it, but took my time, working up to the steady, insistent pistoning that was a man fucking another man. I paused, and stared into his handsome face. He was staring at me, an involuntary smile of happiness on him. "Can I ask you a question?" he asked. "Sure." "How long have you been poz?" "About ten years now," I answered. "How did you get it?" He didn't look scared. It was just pure curiosity. I didn't mind. He had let into the most secret part of himself. The least I could do was let him find out about me. "Like this. Letting tops fuck me bareback." I pushed all the way into him. I didn't want him to forget I was still invading him. My cock was an integral part of his body now. "Did you know they were poz?" "Some yes, some no. It's a story for a different time." I leaned down and kissed him, letting our tongues and spit mix. Of course, with me on top of him, he got more of my tongue and spit. That was the way I wanted it now. There would be other times later to get his spit and cum in me. "This should be about you, not me. It's nearly your first fuck and your first bareback fuck." "I know." "Did you know anything would happen, even fucking me when you came over here?" I asked him. I could feel the heat coming off his muscular chest, as each stroke into his warm ass let me rub up against him. "No. I hadn't planned on anything. Anything at all." "So having a poz cock injecting a load into your ass is a big surprise?" "Very much." He arched his back, pushing himself down on my penis. Once more we reached the limit of penetration, his hole hitting the base of my shaft, asking "You are going to give me your load, right?" "Yes, of course I am." By then, I couldn't have pulled out of him even if he had begged me. I wanted to breed him so badly. "What made you want my cock? My load?" "I wanted to do something with you the minute I saw you. I don't know what it was. The way you looked? The way you acted? The way you smelled?" He buried his nose in my neck, taking a deep scent. "You were so fucking male, I needed to mate with you somehow." "And you were willing to give up your hole?" "After a minute around you, I would have done anything you wanted. This is hardly a sacrifice. Your cock buried in me is something I want. And your cum in me is something I fucking need." I could feel a shudder run through his body. It was hard to tell if it was from pleasure or pain. "Everything ok?" I asked, but I didn't stop pushing myself into him. His hole was far too warm and welcoming for me to pull out unless he begged me hard. And even then, I would have continued. "Oh, fuck yeah. You feel so amazing, your cock in me. You're dripping pre-cum, aren't you?" "Yeah, I am. A lot. It's hard to be in a man like you and not be marking the territory." "You should. Now, there will always be a bit of you in me." I pulled out almost all the way, and shoved my cock into him. "Or a lot of me in you." He smiled. "Are you scared?" I asked. "Of? Getting pozzed?" "Yeah. A part of my mind is screaming about it, telling me to run away before I make the biggest mistake of my life. But mostly, I think this is what I've needed for a really long time. I've just never known it. It feels so good, you inside me, skin to skin. I am so thankful you find me hot enough to leak pre-cum in me. And how perfect it will be when your cock injects me with your seed." After that explanation, I only wanted to fuck him harder. I wanted to get my poz cum deep into him, to breed him the way we both wanted it to happen. I flipped him onto his knees, getting him doggy style. I loved this position; it gave me the ability to explore every aspect of him, and kept him from pulling away too much. But I need not have worried. He leaned back onto my cock at the perfect times, making sure we coupled as easily and as deeply as possible. It must have been at least ten minutes of hard fucking. I was leaking so much pre-cum that we never needed more lube, despite my pulling all the way out, and slamming back home. Only the first one of those got a gasp of pain from him. After that, "Fuck yeah," and "Give it to me" were responses. Although I didn't tell him this outright, my main goal was to rough up his hole a bit. If I had a choice, I wish I hadn't been dripping as much pre-cum. I knew the pre-cum was a pretty potent mix, so I didn't worry too much about him not getting enough of my gifts into his system. We switched positions, back to him on his back, his legs on my shoulders. I was driving into him deep, enjoying how hot he was inside. We would kiss, and feel my hairy chest against his smooth skin, our sweaty muscles alternately sticking to each other, and gliding across each other. I paused for a second, and almost pulled out, just the head of my cock remaining inside. He looked right at me, on his face a blissed-out smile. "What are you thinking?" he asked me. "How much I love being inside you. How much I enjoy dripping my pre-cum into you, how much I get off on pushing myself deeper into you," I said. "And you?" He closed his eyes, and I pushed back into him letting my cock sink all the way. I stopped only when I could feel my balls hit his ass. He gasped a little, but I knew he could take it. "When I've fucked guys, I've never understood why they would beg me for my cum," he said. "Now I really understand their need for cum. My need for cum." "You want my load?" "Fuck yeah. I need your poison in me. Deep in me." "You know there is no turning back? No second chances." "I know, and I don't care. All I want right now is for you to cum inside me, and let me carry your dirty seed all night long." "I want nothing else." I grabbed the bottle of poppers, and took a long hit. I put it under his nose, and let him take a hit. He motioned that he was good, but I left it there a little longer. I wanted him to really enjoy this last assault on his ass. I took one more hit before putting the bottle aside. I waited for the poppers to hit both of us. Then I began my final battle with his hole, determined to win. I pulled all the way out, just the tip of my cock still inside him. Then I slammed into him, pushing myself a bit deeper into him. I wanted to make sure his hole was well-plowed before I shot my wad. I took no risks that my pozcum wouldn't find fertile ground to grow in this beautiful man. His face was a contorted mass of pain and pleasure. I know the constant pounding was starting to hurt him a bit, but he wanted my cum so badly, it didn't matter to him. My balls were pulling in tight and my cock was dripping pre-cum in a constant stream. I couldn't hold off much longer, and we both knew it. "Please. I need it," he managed to gasp out, between my insistent, hard stokes, and his gulps of air. That was all I needed to hear to push me over the edge. I took one more stroke out and then a deep thrust in. My cock stiffened and pulsed, and I could feel the first squirt of jizz leave my cock and enter him. All my rational control disappeared with my orgasm. I held onto him tightly, keeping his body pinned down as my hips thrashed wildly, forcing my cock in and out. The stimulation kept me cumming, a second spurt, a third, and a fourth, filling his hole with my seed. It seemed never to end. He had a hungry ass that kept on milking my cock, not letting me pull out and greedily holding on to every drop of seed I pumped out. We were locked at the lips as well, kissing deeply. The fifth and sixth spurts were a little weaker; my hips were slowing down, and I was able to make a conscious effort to stay deep, making sure I got my load where his defenses were weakest. The seventh spurt was my last. I kept my cock in him, massaging my load into his delicate, bare insides. We stayed in position, his legs still on my shoulders, my cock still lodged inside of him. The last drops of my load were dripping out, collecting with the rest of my sperm inside of him. I was still kissing him; his mouth was still full with my tongue. He broke off for a second and asked, "So, is that it?" "What do you mean? I definitely have another load for you tonight. And more tomorrow." "No. I meant, am I poz now?" "Oh. That. Probably not. It takes a lot more than a single fuck, no matter how good, to get pozzed up." I couldn't read his face. "Having second thoughts? Is that a good thing?" "No. I don't know. Yes. I'm not going back. And I want to do this many more time. I'm going to get at least one more load from you tonight." He smiled. "Don't worry. You'll get at least one more. Maybe two." I shifted a bit, taking the weight off my knees, and letting my dick slowly slide out of his hole. There was a pop sound and little bit of white cream dribbled out with my cock. I reached down and rubbed the cum into his hole. He laughed slightly. "What's funny?" I asked. "Last weekend, I did an orgy scene for Thomas. I was the last of five guys to fuck Todd. When I finally pulled my cock out of him, he made the same sound." "And now you're making it with only one top." "Yeah. At the time, I remember thinking how nasty the bottom was. I mean, he was way hot, but Todd had only met me before. He took all of our cocks and jizz. Total strangers to him." "And now?" "I'm jealous of him. He got five loads in him, from five guys. I got one, but from a very hot guy." I lay down beside him. He shifted around, his head falling in my arm, his head encircled by my armpits. "Damn. Your pits smell awesome." "You felt so good to be inside of. I want to get back inside you. I need to breed you again," I replied.

Yesterday afternoon I was in a sling at CCBC in Palm Springs and this dude was fucking me. After a little while he paused and asked me if he could piss inside me. Being the good sub that I am I told him it was his decision. He filled me full and continued to fuck me for another 20 minutes. It was so fucking hot. It ended with his load mixed in with a lot of piss. After he finished I walked back to the room with piss dripping down my legs. Hard as hell just thinking about it.

10 years ago So much of this story causes me personal shame. It's embarrassing. I'm currently 47 years old, but I still felt like a kid ten years ago. I was 37 and fighting some demons from childhood. I was raised in a very strict, religious household and remember rules and discipline as a way of life. I rebelled like we all do at some point. Unfortunately, I never grew out of that stage. I got stoned right before my high school graduation...and pretty much every day after that for the next three years. College was pretty much a breeze, but in my senior year, I woke up a little and shed some anger in order to get my degree. The problem is that I never got over my hate of doing stuff I didn't want to do. Sure, I got up early every morning and worked at a job -- but I never got a regular checkup with a doctor, and I never ever went to the dentist. I'd had a wisdom tooth removed when I was in my 20's. It was such a bad experience that they only did the one even though I had three more that needed taken out. I swore I'd never go back. And I didn't for over ten years. Well, you can guess what happened ... I eventually developed some major issues in my mouth. I paid for my neglect with horrible tooth pain. No amount of Advil would help. I once took shots directly from a bottle of rum to kill the pain. I woke up sick and spit blood into the bathroom sink. Not good. It was time to grow up a little and make a dental appointment. I nosed around on the computer to find dentists in my area. I came across Dr. Manning, who not only was near me, but took my insurance. He also practiced "sedation dentistry" which I'd never heard of. If you don't know it already, you can now go to a dentist and be drugged up for hours while they fix everything wrong with your death and you're not even aware of it. Sounded good to me. His picture was on the website. He was a handsome, mid-50's guy with a salt and pepper mustache. I called and made an appointment. The phone lady was very nice...and had that so soothing 'nurse voice'. I told her about my pain and she was very sympathetic, but said I'd need to come in for x-rays and consultation before any work could be done. Fine. I lived through a few more unbearable nights before the appointment. I was tense as hell and even the dental assistant noticed. She left the room for a few minutes and came back with a valium. "Dr. Manning is running late. Take this and relax a little while. I'd never had any tranquilizer before, but quickly understood why people got addicted to them. Damn.,I felt perfect and in love with the world. I dreamed for a bit. I think. A hand touched my shoulder....Dr. Manning. The lady assistant was there too. "You less nervous now? Poor kid. Linda, take his blood pressure." Then I was sorta awake as the cuff went on my arm. It had to be low now, but it wasn't....170/50. "Start him on the gas and I'll go adjust Carmen's braces." He put a hand on my chest and said "I can't do anything until you calm down. " It's impossible to 'try to relax', but as soon as I started breathing the air coming from that mask -- it felt like a piece of paper floating in the wind. There should be a better way to describe it, but that's all I could think of at the time. It had no odor that I could perceive. I could hear the dentist and his assistant talking and asking me to open wide and telling me to relax. They scraped and inspected, and I thought it was great. Fun. After they stopped the gas, I was out of my happy trance in seconds. "Well, Vince...we've got some work to do." I needed the other wisdom teeth removed, three fillings, a crown and a thorough cleaning. I was so embarrassed. "We can do almost all of it in two appointments, but you need to get the blood pressure normalized. I have a friend, an internist over at Saint Luke's who will get you in soon. Follow his instructions and then come back. I'm writing you a scrip for some strong pain pills. Don't take more than three in a 24 hour time period. We'll call you in a few weeks to see how things are going. Sheila at the front desk will be ready for you whenever you've awake enough to get up. "I just need half a minute." Dr. Manning sent his assistant to retrieve that internist's number from his office, leaving me and the doc alone. "You are way too tense. Bill can help with that too. Why are you so nervous?" "I just always feel like a tight coil inside." "Is that why you party?" "Huh?" "I could smell a little booze and pot in the air you breathed out. People always think they can brush or use mouthwash and we won't know. We always know." "You married, Dr. Manning?" I had no idea why I asked that. "I was once. Years ago. What about you?" "Nah. I am too independent to be in a union of any kind." "Yeah. That's pretty much where I'm at now. If you still feel loopy, I can give you a ride home. Sometimes the gas affects people that way." I should have taken him up on the offer, but I declined. "I'm okay now. Thanks, though." "Here..take a few of these until you get the scrip filled." He took my hand, opened it and dropped a few pink tablets into my palm. "Don't say anything. This is just between us." "Gotcha. So I call back here in a few weeks?" "Or we'll call you...or at least I will." Three weeks later, I was feeling okay. His friend had put me on some blood pressure pills and an anxiety med. Xanax became my new best friend. It was like the valium but more so. The pain pills really worked well. I checked my blood pressure every other day at Walgreen's. It was normal...almost nearly normal. I was in bed, enjoying the pills and thinking I'd call the dentist office tomorrow from work. As soon as I formed that thought, my phone rang. Oh fuck it...It was late and I was on a cloud. It stopped ringing but then started again thirty seconds later. "Hello?" "Did I wake you?" "What? Not really. Who is this?" "It's Mark. Mark Manning -- your dentist." "Oh Hi. I was going to call your office tomorrow. My blood pressure is way lower now." "Excellent! We can fix your teeth now. Schedule an appointment tomorrow morning. I assume you want to be konked out for the first round." "Oh yeah. Do I get extra gas or something?" "That...and we give you heavy-duty pills. Your insurance won't cover the gas or the meds, so it'll set you back several hundred bucks." "Mark?" "Yes?" His voice was deep and sultry. "What time is it?" "Not so late. I just wanted to check on you. I assumed you were doing well...checking your blood pressure at that pharmacy multiple times." What? How did he know? "Yeah. I don't feel as coiled now, but I sleep more than I ever did." "Good! Sleep is healing. It'll help you keep looking so young." I smiled in the darkness, and my dick shifted in my boxers. "I need to sleep now, Doc. I'll call the office in the morning." "You better...I'll keep checking. Good night, kid." Damn. He was one attentive dentist. Was his business doing bad and he needed to get more patients? No. I somehow knew what was going on. The Xanax was dragging me down into sleep. I remember in my early weed-smoking days, that I used to imagine that our reality as very layered. I'd lie in bed and go deeper through the levels. I was going way deep under the waking reality, thinking of this Dr. Manning. I called from work the next day and spoke to that pleasant front desk woman. "We've been expecting you call, Vince. Do you have a pen and paper near you? There are instructions to follow.Ready?" "Yeah." "OK. You first need to come get the sedation pills here at the office. They'll be here this afternoon. Can you come by before 6?" "I'll be there." "Good. Now, you can't drive here yourself for the appointment. Do you know someone who can bring you? We have a deal with a taxi service. Dr. Manning said he'd even drive you here himself." My friend and neighbor, Ernie was a retired man and never did anything but fuss around his garden. It was almost Winter now, so he stayed on the couch and watched "Law and Order". For hours. He was a buddy and always bringing me tomatoes and radishes. "I have somebody to drive me." "Okay. If I'm not there when you get the pills today. Just take them as directed. Do you have an Ipod or something like that? Some patients like to hear music." "Yes. I have one." "Wear loose clothing -- like sweats or something. You have to probably take two days off of work. Are you able to do that?" "Yes." I had so much vacation saved up because I never went anywhere. Or did anything. "Good enough. See you this afternoon...or Jemma will. My day is in flux because my daughter is sick." "Sorry. Hope she feels better soon." "Thanks. Have a good day." I had meetings all morning. My phone was blinking with multiple messages. You can guess who they were from. Dr. Manning himself. I knew his voice so well. "Glad you called. How's work?" beep "What time are you coming in today? I'll try to be there to say 'hi'" beep "Are you ever in your office?" beep It occurred to me that this guy was not very professional. Did I mind? Fuck no. I think he and I had something. But what? He was older and divorced and my dentist. I decided I'd go along for the ride. I picked up the little plastic package of 400 dollar pills. Mark wasn't there. The front desk lady told me he wanted to schedule me for Saturday morning. That was fine because Old Ernie got up at the crack of dawn to rake or fill his bird feeders every Saturday. The Friday evening before my appointment, Ernie called to tell me that his daughter had been in a car accident. She'd be okay, but would have to spend the next few days in the hospital. She was about 200 miles from us, and he needed to leave tonight to visit her. I ran through a list of names of people I could call to get up early on a Saturday and take me to the dentist. I hated annoying people. I'd call and schedule a taxi, but needed to find a number. Shit. People had tougher lives than me and coped somehow. I only had a short time to figure out a plan. As I started my usual period of panic, the phone rang. "Hello?" "Nervous? You need to take that yellow pill pretty soon so you can get some sleep. It's the smallest one." "Mark?" "Yeah. Sorry. I was worried about you. It will be totally fine and easy tomorrow. Take the pill now...while we're talking. You need to be rested." "Now?" "Yep. I went by your house after work today and saw your neighbor guy put suitcases in his car. Is all that all for you?" "No. His daughter was in a wreck and he had to travel. What's the name of the taxi service you office uses?" "Don't bother.U'll pick you up at 8:30. You need to take the biggest pill an hour ahead of time. So get up at 7:15 and take it. It's supposed to be cold. Wear sweats if you have them." "Thanks, Doc." "My pleasure. You took the night pill, right?" "Just now." "OK. Good. Get ready for bed...you'll be crashing soon. Are you on a cell? Can we talk while you're in bed?" "Sure. Can you hold while I get undressed and settled in?" I put the phone down and left my clothes on the floor. I went about my usual nighttime routine. I turned on the TV and muted it. I kept it on a jewelry shopping network as I fell asleep. Something about those glittering gemstones was hypnotic. I got under the covers. "Mark? You there?" "Yeah. Just listening to you. Your breathing is getting heavy -- which means you'll be sleeping soon. How do you feel?" "Wonderful. Like...just...wonderful." "That's my boy!" "How. Why? I mean..do you do this for all your patients?" "Not really, but you're a friend of mine...I make exceptions for good friends." "Oh. OK." We were friends all the sudden? GOOD friends? I guess it was true if he was saying it. "Kiddo? Are you sleeping?? What do you wear when you sleep?" "Huh? Just underwear. Why?" "Describe them a little. What color? What style?" "Yup." I felt like I was dreaming. "OK. I'll call you early to make sure you're up." "Absolutely." And then I slipped away. Dreams were waiting. I slept so well and only woke up when the phone rang. They'd call back when I got done exploring heaven. "WAKE UP!" "No! Stop! I ..." Dr. Manning was there in my bedroom, standing over me. How the fuck did he get in here?? "You need to wake up a little. We're running late, Vince. Damn! I should have factored in your pain pills and Xanax. This is my fault. Take this now and I'll give you the last one when we get there. Might as well take it with a beer. Coffee will only make you tense." It was weird to taste beer while I was still half-asleep, but whatever. He helped get me dressed -- which I'd have found really awkward if I would have been fully awake. I washed my face, brushed my teeth and put on a ball cap. "I'm ready." "Here's your coat...it's super cold this morning." His fancy sports car looked out of place in my crummy driveway. The air smelled like snow. "Nice car, Matt." The seat was so comfortable. He chuckled. "It's 'Mark', buddy. You want some music?" "Oh shit! I forgot my ipod." "I've got a portable CD player in the office. We really don't have time to go back now." "And my wallet. I forgot that too." "No problem. We'll send you a bill. Just don't worry anymore. You are the most person I've ever met. Now, do you want music or not?" "Yeah. Christmas music." I must have been feeling the effects because I normally hated holiday songs. This town had at least two radio stations that played only carols this time of year. Mark found one of them and festive tunes washed over us. His audio system was amazing. Maybe I nodded off a little. I just felt so, so perfect. "OK. We're not all that late. Lois is already here though." Who was talking? Oh. I woke up a little. I thought I'd forgotten my coat too, but I was wearing it. Mark helped me walk to the office building like I was feeble or something. My memory gets a little spotty from there. "So...what now?" I was in the warm waiting room, and no one else seemed to be around. "Take this. It'll be a short wait. I guess I should say "good bye" now because you won't remember much for the next five or six hours." "OK, Mom." He laughed and then left me alone. I could have dozed off right then, but I fought it. Why would I want to sleep through this perfect feeling? I made myself be aware for as I could. It's like when you reach that perfect buzz while drinking...remember what you can because you'll ultimately be sick. I was reclined in the dentist chair and Lois had the little CD player ready for me. "What kind of music do you like?" "Alternative." She stared blankly. I was unable to explain that any further. She was probably a Garth Brooks fan. A minute later she came back with an Oasis CD. "That's perfect," I said even though I'd always been lukewarm on that band. They had a few hits. So much for trying to remember everything...it was mostly a blank from then on. I remember that the music was better than any music I'd ever heard. And then...a huge blank. While I was out, three wisdom teeth were removed and a crown out in. I felt none of it. I do remember that I needed to pee really bad...and I had a stomach cramp. At some point. I was sitting on a toilet. As much as I needed to pee, I needed to poop more. My ass was sore. It was like a raw sunburn feeling. I guess all the meds were having a side effect. The process took forever. I might have been in there too long because the door opened. "You OK?" It was Mark. I pulled my shirt down a little to cover my stuff. "Yeah. Just slow." "OK. I'll be right outside if you need something." Then there was a bunch of blank space. It was sometime in the evening when I slowly came out of the haze. I was in bed. I never knew my mattress was this comfortable. I might have snoozed another hour before I returned to the world. I thought it was weird that my jaws and my mouth didn't hurt at all. My ass was still sore though. It took a confusing few seconds before I realized I was not in my own bedroom. It was a nice, spacious bedroom with fancy decor. Huh? I was suddenly sure of where I was...Dr. Manning's house. Probably. I didn't trust my brain too much right then. There were dried blood droplets in my underwear...and then I knew. I knew he'd fucked me at some point. I was no virgin. I'd been fucked by my first boyfriend/mentor. He'd been a safe sex fanatic and we used condoms always. After the first time, my ass felt a lot like it did now. The pieces were starting to come together, and I somehow didn't mind too much. Mark had taken advantage of my coma-like state and gotten his rocks off. With a condom? I doubted it. I decided to compose myself and get dressed. My folded sweats and shoes were all placed nicely in the bedroom. I was ready to see what other weird shit the day (or night) had in store. I took a breath and walked out the door. I could hear a TV and followed the sound. There was Mark, wearing only a pajama bottoms. His bare feet were propped up on top of a coffee table that probably cost as much as my car. His bare torso was covered with fur and he was smoking a joint. "Hey! Have a good nap?" "Yeah. Are we...why did you bring me here?" "I just wanted to make sure you had someone near to take care of you. How are you feeling?" "Not bad. Good, actually." I was holding my cards close to my vest. It would do me no good to start accusing him of rape. Not yet. "Well, the worst is over. Don't touch your gums. I'd offer you a hit, but you need to not suck anything for a day. The suction might open the wounds in your mouth. Wanna shotgun?" "What's that?" I knew what it was. My God, his body was so sexy. "Come sit. I'll take a hit and blow it directly into your mouth." So we did that a few times. His warm lips on mine felt so nice...and familiar somehow. He kept urging me to take more and more "shotguns". Eventually we were just kissing with no smoke involved. OK, this was happening. I was overwhelmed with a bunch of thoughts fighting each other. He pulled away and stood up. "You hungry? I made made some mashed potatoes with green onions and cream. It won't hurt your mouth to eat it." "Cool. Thanks, Mark." "I'd bring you a beer, but you can't have anything carbonated for another twelve hours. Want some wine?" "Sure. I'll have some if you do." He wasn't the only one with devious plans in his head. "Already started without you. It's almost 9 at night, Vince." "Wow." No way. I'd lost most of my Saturday. He brought me an overfull glass of red wine. "Do you remember anything that happened?" I chose my words. "I think I sort of remember Lois taking me to the bathroom." "Nope. That was me. I sent Lois home as soon as you were prepped. It was just us for three hours. I only open the office on weekends for long procedures...like yours." He put down a plate of the promised mashed potatoes. It was not bad, but my stomach fought it. I could not eat any more without gagging, so I just sipped the wine. It was probably really expensive, but I had no knowledge of wines. It was just fruity booze to me. There was a college football game on his super TV. I gave no shits about NCAA football because my college team was always awful. "Can we watch something else, Mark?" I wondered if he'd put on some gay porn. But no. He found the old version of "Little Women" on a classic movie channel. It was the black and white one with that famous actress as a younger gal. Hepburn? "They always show this around the holidays. Like this?" "Yeah. I loved the novel as a kid. I got fun of for walking around with a 'girl's book'. Can we do some more shotgunning?" "I was just about to ask you that!" He brought out a very nice bong and fired it up. "We need to go slow, Babe. This medical grade." He took a major hit and exhaled directly into my mouth. His lips...my God...I wanted to kiss him forever. "Okay. Let that sink in for a bit and watch the story." Oh fuck the March sisters -- just keep kissing me, Dr. Rapist! I nodded and finished the wine that he kept refilling. I was so wasted suddenly. We dropped all pretext and just started kissing like lovers. I let my hand rest on his crotch which was growing. I could have just laid my cards on the table...I could have just confessed that I knew what he'd done to me today. He was an enthusiastic kisser and I was rock hard in my sweats. "One more hour and then you need to rest...you've had a big day." "I don't feel sleepy at all. Well, a little bit maybe." "Yeah, but your mouth will start hurting soon. It'll wake you up in the middle of the night. Let me give you a few pills to prevent that." He got up with an obvious boner and left the room. Damn. It's like he wanted me drugged all the time. No discussion about the kissing or my hand on his dick. I'd play along...it was Saturday night after all. I think it was. I took the tablets he handed me. I couldn't help but notice how clean and well-groomed his fingers were. One of the Little Women was sick and dying. I used to know all their names. "Were those sleeping pills or pain pills?" "Both." Damn. He was going to continue this ruse with a guy who was smart enough to figure things out. Or maybe he knew that I knew. That would another level to this game we seemed to be playing. We shotgunned and drank more as I got drowsier and more into that next world he wanted me in. Right about the time I was going to ask Mark a question, I slipped away. Blackness and mist. The only thing I remember is being in that excellent bed again. I also kind of remember being naked and feeling my neck kissed, but that might have been a dream. The morning crept around his thick, luxurious drapes...and I was alone again. My butt ached again, but not as bad. It was also a little damp. He'd done it again! If only he knew how much I'd have been willing to fuck with no impairment. "Breakfast!," He called from behind the door. "Take a quick shower. I washed your sweats and left you a clean towel." I cleansed and fixed my hair up a little. He left me the washed sweats but no underwear or socks. I was a little hungover. OK...I was his plaything, but he didn't seem to realize that I was willing. No drugs needed. I would have to say something...soon. I had to work tomorrow and, while this had been adventure, it was a little tiresome to appear stupid. I guess my shoes were still by the couch, so I just went into the kitchen barefoot. He was fussing around with the stove. "Good morning." "Hello! How's the mouth?" "No pain. You're good at your job, Mark." Boy was he ever. "Aw. Thanks. Always nice to hear that. I made French toast. It's probably not going to hurt your gums now." We sat at his kitchen table and ate. My mom never made French toast, and so this was new to me. Sweeter food than I liked in the mornings, but....but Mark made it for me. I was becoming infatuated with him and his devious ways. "I'm not wearing underwear... feels odd." "I'm not either. All that is in the drier. I have a housekeeper who comes in three times a week. She's coming tomorrow morning. I'll let Rosa clean all this up." "I can't believe the whole weekend is over. They close down my office building from Christmas Eve until after New Year's. That's coming up and I can't wait." He smiled and started lighting the bong again. Dang. For a doctor, he smoked a lot of weed. "What do you do for Christmas, Vince?" "Usually go visit my parents, but I don't know if I can handle it this year. They are decent people, but so religious and nagging. My dad and I tend to argue." "Same here. Did I tell you I was raised a Mormon?" "No way." He'd lost his place in Mormon heaven a long time ago. "Yeah. I just hang out with friends on Christmas...good friends like you." Whoa. It was time to say something. Apparently this man equated drugged rape with friendship. "Mark...I need to tell you something." He leaned over and exhaled a giant weed cloud into my mouth. I kepi my mouth where it was and we passionately kissed for a full minute. "What?" "Nothing...I ...I just think I'm falling for you." I'd chickened out. "About time. I was waiting to hear that. I should tell you a few things first." Here it comes. "I've loved you from the minute you walked into my office...and I got carried away. I followed you and googled you. I know so much." "Is that it? What about admitting you raped me twice while I was drugged?" Silence hung thick in the air. He shifted and looked at the ceiling. "Three times. I fucked you three times in the past 24 hours. Are you mad?" "Let's just say I figured it out. But, why? I would have said 'yes' with no drugs involved." "It's my thing. I love fucking passed-out men. Maybe it's a self-esteem thing, but I am too awkward when the other guy is fully awake." "But you are gorgeous. You don't need to drug people. I really want to have sex with you and remember it...see things, feel things." "I know. I want to do that too...but it might take some time, okay?" My boner was completely gone. His fetish was helpless, unconscious guys. That was not a good thing any way you looked at it. "Did you at least put a condom on?" Silence. "No. That's my other thing...I like to go in bare, make my seed count. I most likely don't have anything if that's what you're worried about." "OK. I should probably go home now. I don't even know if I'm mad or not, and I need some time alone right now." He nodded and went to retrieve the rest of my clothes from the dryer. I just held the socks and underwear and stood by the front door. "Let me get some shoes and a coat. I'll be right back. The garage door is at the far left end of the kitchen." I went there and kept my expression neutral. I wanted to keep guessing what I was thinking. I could report Mark and get him arrested, but that wasn't anything I wanted to do. I could just get another dentist, but I liked him still. Still. Even after everything. Didn't we all have a weird desire or two? He was so handsome and so smart...friendly. I'd figure it out somehow. I've learned over time that the brain is more trustworthy than the heart. He drove me home. I was amazed at how such a nice neighborhood could be so close to my plain one. He had the Christmas music station on again, and it was playing probably my favorite song with my favorite verse: "...from now on, your troubles will be out of sight." "I know this probably isn't a good time, but you still need to get a few fillings. If we do it now, you can avoid getting more crowns. Just saying. If you want to go to a different dentist, I can refer you to somebody. A woman if you want." "No. It's okay. Later this week, maybe." "This week would be best. Will you call me?" "I will." We got to my place and barely said good-bye. I just needed to be in a safe place with the door locked and the blinds drawn. Ernie was still gone. The inside of my house seemed foreign, and I wished I had a dog. Or a cat. I never realized how lonely my life was. Oh well. I needed a good friend to call, but it was a weird afternoon hour on a Sunday. Everybody would be deep into football and drinking and chicken wings and talking. No thanks. I just took an extra long shower and dressed like I was ready for bed. I turned on the TV, but was careful to avoid seeing that creepy "60 Minutes" clock ticking away. I found "Scrooged" on a lame channel and watched that. It was such a mean-spirited movie, but the ending was supremely uplifting. Time for a pill. Dr. Manning had given me so many extra tranquilizers that I could afford to splurge a little now. I settled on the couch and imagined I had a big, furry cat on my lap. Of course I dozed and barely remember watching the movie. What WAS that actress's name? I used to know it. It was almost 10 PM when the phone rang. I knew who it would be. "Hello?" "Hi, Vince. How are you?" "I was just relaxing for a bit. Let me grab a diet coke...hold on. OK. What's up, Mark?" "I made some calls...I don't want to tell you too much now, but it would be good if we could do your fillings on Wednesday. And then take the rest of the day off. Maybe Thursday too. No...definitely. Can you take two days off?" "Oh sure. I've got a crazy amount of vacation time saved up." "Perfect. I've got you scheduled for 10 AM on the 14th. You don't need any pills for this. I'll give you a valium when you arrive, and have the gas and Oasis ready!" I was smiling. "Sounds great." "I won't keep you, but what's in your head right now?" "Not much right now. I do know that I want to see you again. Just please understand that I want to be with you when I'm awake." "I know. I understand. We will as soon as your appointment is over. OK?" "Great." "Get some sleep...and don't forget to tell your boss you are taking two days off. I'll remind you." I slept so soundly that night -- even though it felt like I had already slept forever. I was pretty much useless at work the next day. Between my brain fog and conflicting thoughts about this new man I loved, it was all I could do to remember to eat lunch. Tuesday was only slightly better. The night before the appointment, I took a pill and dozed off on the couch while some old movie with fake snow played. The phone rang a few times, but I knew it was Mark. Him. My man. Was it love? Maybe. I came to the dental office early. It was nice to see the waiting room full of people. I picked up a random magazine and perused it like I was interested in the material. They needed a TV here. Lois came out... "Vince? You're next. Follow me, please." I could swear she had a slight smirk on her face.I settled into that great chair and waited while she came back with a pill and the CD player. "Take this now...the doctor will be in soon." She fussed around with the tank of happy gas and then left. Lois must know what's what. Whatever...I'd just enjoy the pill and close my eyes. None of that was my problem anymore. Half dreams in shades of blue and gray. Then the mask was over my nose and the headphones were on my ears. "Ready? Just breathe for a few minutes. Oasis is waiting for you." Mark. And Lois, of course. She was right there. One of them hit the play button and cranked the volume way up. I happily opened my mouth and was ready for this. I knew he was shooting some of that numbing stuff into my gums, but it felt fine. No complaints. There was a line in one of the songs playing I'd heard before: "Slip inside the eye of your mind, Don't you know that you might find a better place to play" Nice. I'd meditate on that wisdom for a little while. I'd probably retire in twenty years or so. I would just plan on listening to music while breathing in this gas. Maybe I'd even get a dentist's chair. And live somewhere it never got cold....and have a cat. A big tabby tom. I would be fine. I stayed in that blissful place until the mask was taken off of me and the music was rudely removed from my ears. It was over. Damn. Who the hell even knew what time it was? "OK, buddy. Wake up a little and we're good to go. Lois, go get him a bottle of water, please." He stood right next to me as I opened my eyes. "Look real quick." He pulled his cock out the dress slacks he was wearing and flashed me a quick few seconds. He'd adjusted himself by the time she came back with my water. Cool. I was okay with everything. "Vince? Can you get up? We're done." "It's fine. I can just drive on top of traffic going home. Nobody else will think of it." "Uh oh. Looks like I need to drive you home. Luckily, I'm off the rest of the day.And tomorrow. I'm leaving town. Lois, I'll be in on Friday. Make sure you give Jemma that folder." We were walking out to the parking lot. "You're leaving town?" "Only metaphorically. I'm going to take you to a party now." Oh god. I was afraid he was going to take me to some bar where everybody would be drinking and talking. I didn't want that. There was his beautiful car that he helped me inside of. As I settled into the luxurious seat, it occurred to me that I had been given something stronger than just a valium. We were driving. The trees were bare. "Mark? That wasn't a regular valium you gave me, was it??" "No. But you were awake the whole time. I'm taking steps, Vince. I'm trying." "Lois knows about you?" "Shit. You are too smart, kid. She's the sister of Bill -- your doctor. He's partying with us tonight. You like him, right?" "Yeah. He seems too straight-laced to party. He's like a doctor from a Norman Rockwell painting." Mark chuckled. "This will be fun. We're both going to get what we want." We pulled into his garage and I was strangely more awake than I had been in the last ten minutes. My god - everything was so clean and organized. His life was so neat and tidy. I could hear loud music already. I was almost sure it was New Order. I had that CD. I figured it would be a bunch of people, but no. It was just Bill in his boxer shorts. He was so pale and skinny and hairless. "Hey! How's our patient?" "A little sleepy -- I'm gonna get him some coffee." "No. I'll take a beer though. Hi Doc. My blood pressure is normal now." I looked him over. He was around Mark's age and usually wore glasses. He had red hair which I'd never found attractive until just now. "Good. But you never call. Check the appointment card I gave you last time -- I wrote my home number on the back." Huh? I never even checked the back. I just wrote the date down on my calendar and threw the card away. "Sorry. I didn't know that. You have my number, though." "Definitely." Mark came back with a bottle of beer that was probably expensive. Everything about him was top shelf. "Damn, Bill. You made yourself right at home, didn't you? We're going to ease Vince into this." Ease me into what? That's when I saw the syringe on the coffee table. Fucking hell. "What's in that needle?" They were both silent. "I thought you said he'd be ready to party, Mark." "It's okay, kid. You have two doctors here. Nothing bad will happen." Dr. Bill shook his head slightly. "That wasn't what I asked." I wasn't about to shoot up drugs... "It's like a fun version of vitamin B-12." Bill had an obvious hard-on under his boxers. He was playful and devious. "Take your clothes off." I looked to Mark with questions in my eyes. "I won't let anything bad happen to you, Vince. You believe me don't you?" I mostly did. I just stripped down to my underwear and waited. "Let me change the music to something a little more mellow." Bill went and adjusted the stereo. "He is like my brother and I love him, but he's a little flaky. I'll protect you." I finished the beer and relaxed on the couch. Carol King was singing about clouds in her coffee. What the hell did that mean? "Get him one more beer...I don't want him all nervous for this." "Want another one, Vince? I picked up some diet coke if you'd rather have that...I can mix some Wild Turkey in it." "Sure. Yeah." Bill was sitting next to me, really close. It's funny the weird twists and turns your life can take if you don't pay attention. My doctor and I talked about the music. He loved the 70's tunes which I did not. To me, it was rewarmed 60's until disco showed up. "Turn it down a little, ass. This is not the club." Mark gave me the coke mixed with a generous amount of whatever kind of liquor Wild Turkey was. It killed the carbonation, but I wasn't about to complain. He changed the CD and Madonna started her beautiful, slutty singing. OK. Much better. "Don't be a mom, Mark. He's an adult. Let's start this party! Who's first?" Bill was radiating a hunger. "You. You're eager and I need you to shut up a little." Mark put his hairy arm around me. I don't remember him getting stripped down to his jockey shorts. "Bitch." Bill thumped his inner arm and plunged the syringe into a vein. "See? It's easy. Doesn't even hurt." He was done. I watched his face. He looked happy and relaxed. He didn't pass out or go crazy. "Vince is next. Doctor's orders." OK. He fussed around in his duffel bag and rejoined the 'party'. It felt like Mark was holding me even closer. "It's seriously going to be fine. You'll feel much better soon." Bill sat next to me gently pulled my right arm straight out in front of me. "I am so good at finding veins. Back in college, I could practically find them with my eyes closed." And then the needle pierced my skin with almost no pain. I felt more pressure as he plunged the drug into me. I didn't even ask if it was a new needle or the same one Bill had used. I also never asked what exactly I was taking. Too late now. "How soon do I feel it?" "By the time Mark is dosed, you'll be doing real fine." "But what IS it?" "My own private mix. A little of this, a little of that. Nothing too heavy-duty." I must have missed seeing Mark shoot up because he passed and empty syringe to Bill. So we were all on drugs now. I waited. It wasn't long before I started to cough. It didn't last long, but my heart was racing. Speed? It might have been, but was like a record played at a lower speed. Bill and Mark were both fully naked now and stroking their boners. I was naked too. "Who took off my underwear?" "You did," they answered in unison. I also had an erection. Mark's cock was longer, but Bill's was fatter...the both looked beautiful and I wanted to suck them both at once. And then a dick was in my lips. The grunting voice was Bill's. "Shit! You trained him good, Mark. He's a pro. I'm gonna cum! I should have fucked you first, Vince...but...but I AHH!" A thick lotion-like fluid flooded my mouth and dripped down my throat. None of this was enough...I wanted him to shoot again. "Wow! I've been needing a blow-job like that for months." Mark impatiently prodded his naked meat into the back of my neck. I turned around and gratefully took his shaft all the way. I might have gagged a little, but there was no way I'd let that stop me. I let my fingers wander up and down his furry ass as it thrust. I was born to do this very thing. "Stop. I need to pee really bad. We can continue in a little bit. You probably need something to drink. Want another special coke? I'll get it." I never got a chance to tell him I'd drink his pee too. I really would have. He walked away, with his hard dick bobbing up and down like a toy. The music was something different now. I didn't recognize it, but like it. Mark came back with my "special" coke, and then padded away to use the bathroom. It occurred to me that he might have mixed something else besides booze in it. No worries. "Hey. Take this -- it'll help prolong the fun." He handed me a tiny white pill and I swallowed it with no hesitation. And then he kissed me quickly. "If it doesn't work out with the dentist, you can give me a shot." I wanted to give the whole world a shot right then. I wanted cocks and cum and everything. I wanted the fun to continue, but tried to keep cool. I'd never been so horny in my life. "You leveling off a little, Vince?" He stretched out and I took careful note of how long and lean his legs were. And hairy! Whatever I was on, I followed my instincts with no question. I was sucking on Mark's fat toes before I knew it. He curled and uncurled them while they were in my mouth. "Wow. That feels nice." "You lucky bastard. He's into feet. I haven't had mine touched since I dated Dennis. You got yourself a keeper, buddy." I took the hint and worked on Bill's feet next. I never imagined I'd be doing such things, but I'd lost control. They both had straining hard-ons at that point. "Let's fuck him. He's super horny." Mark took my face in his hands and looked into my eyes. "Are you ready? Can you think now? Bill, you didn't give him anything else, did you? His pupils are super big." "No. I swear." (lie) The next thing I remember was lying in Mark's great bed with nakedness all around me. Arms, legs, hands. My legs were straight up in the air and a pillow was under my ass. Bill's not-quite handsome face was directly over mine. "So I hear your ass is pretty tight. Don't relax too much...I want to drill you so deeply. Like the idea?" I liked anything and everything right then. I wondered if Mark was watching this and having second thoughts about me. I guess I was cheating on him already. I worried up until the point the doctor's dick went directly inside of me. There was an explosion of pain and surreal pleasure. I might have made a noise...no idea. I imagined his dick as a red-hot iron pole poking my guts and destroying everything it touched. He was relentless with the pounding. "Yeah. You are exactly as promised, Vince. Almost time for your reward...it's ...oh shit...TAKE IT!" He came and I could feel the heartbeat in his penis. The deed was done. 'Dammit, Bill. You gave him something. His breathing is way too slow. Vince?" "Just a little party favor. Nothing too strong." "Get out! I'm going to refer him to another doctor...you can't be trusted. Take your shit and leave." There was movement and cussing and arguing. I was alone in bed and thinking this was all my fault. It was fun, and I messed it up. Mark came in and turned on a bright light."Look at me." I thought he was going to yell at me now. "Just give me a minute...I need to sleep now." "OK. Good idea. I'm going to watch you for awhile. Turn on your right side and breathe...deep as you can." So I did. At some point, the room got darker. I was keenly aware that I was being watched, but the dreams came on anyway. Boring dreams of nothing special. The next thing I knew, it was morning. I was all by myself in the big bed. I scanned the shameful memories and cringed. The clothes I was wearing the previous day were right there for me to slip into. I felt so guilty of so many things. I went to the bathroom. I needed to face the Mark Music now. He was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. "Good morning, cutie!" He was in a bathrobe and didn't seem mad at all. "I'm so sorry. I think we overdid it just a little. Or a lot." "No. I'm sorry you had to see me with Bill. I wanted to be with you instead...I just..." "Shhh. Don't think about him. He's on my shit list. Let's eat and then we can do whatever you want. No drugs." We ate and and then stepped outside briefly because I wanted fresh oxygen. I was mostly myself as we had sex in his bed. He was tender but passionate. It didn't take him long to cum the first time. Or the second time. We made love most of the day. He'd given me what I'd wanted. At last.

This scene from Sick Fucks gets me every time. Any other vids like this? Amateur would be even better, but anything with this kind of verbal. Love hearing them say they are gonna kill him and obtain his soul etc... When you buy the scene, by the way, its a little longer and more depraved. And that tops face as he unloads... there need to be more scenes like this. http://elfinion3.tumblr.com/post/160902349186/demon-breed-ave-satanas-sick-fucks-6-2667m

Ethan Wolfe is back at Treasure Island Media having just shot a scene with Ace Era in Portland, OR directed by Dice. No release date is yet known but here is a picture that was posted on twitter from the shoot. I cannot wait to see him and his big cock back on the screen. Hope he has more new scenes lined up!

I’ve been called a smart cookie, entrepreneur, successful, and a few choice words along the way to my 45 years of age. I just chalk it up to good genes and some good luck, along with making the most of my opportunities, yes I am extremely bright and did well in school, obtaining a scholarship to a prestigious west coast university, having a good athletic body didn’t hurt either, although many of my high school classmates considered me a nerd or dork, I did fairly well in the personal relationship department. I entered college into my 18th year and studied computer engineering and programing along with my basic curriculum as well as took business classes, I figured if I was to write programs for business, I should know how it worked. While my scholarship paid for my tuition, books, room and board, it didn’t cover my other needs hence I was allowed to have a part time job to supplement my living expenses. I freelance wrote programs for friends and acquaintances, I soon developed a reputation for creating good and useful applications, I was riding on the crest of the technical revolution of the 90’s. I also discovered the bath house a short distance from campus which I began frequenting in my spare time, I was becoming a regular amongst the mixture of the college crowd and the older more established patrons. I was 18 and good looking with an acceptable athletic build, very much what is considered an otter, oh and I had a appetite for sex. After a couple months of attending I noticed a sign looking for workers to work the front desk and do the cleaning of the facilities, I figured that would be a nice way to make an extra buck or two so I applied and was almost immediately hired, my handsome looks and my good attitude got me the job. They started me three afternoons a week cleaning rooms and picking up litter and trash throughput the club. I really didn’t mind doing the cleaning as even then I was a bit kinky and was well on the road to being a cum junkie. It being the earlier 90’s we were forced to be the condom Nazis making sure everything was wrapped up in the public areas, we refilled the condom holders several times a day, and given the number of used ones I was picking up I’m guessing they were being used, although I always snickered a bit when I’d come across a broken one knowing someone most likely took a load. On my days off, mostly weekends I would become a patron and I knew what my preferences were. One evening I had been cruising when a muscle daddy with a good sized cock began hitting on me, I enjoyed the attention especially when he suggested we enter the dark platform area, this was a area of the club which had a raised platform in the center with several cubicles with curtains around the perimeter, the platform had a chain or cable railing around three sides with sturdy post holding it up. Most guys would stand on the platform and allow others standing below to suck them off. This daddy backed me up to the rail as we made out and some twink guy spread my cheeks and dived in eating my hole, pushing his tongue in loosening me up, after about 5 to 10 minutes of this he spun me around and the twink began blowing my 9.5 inch cut cock while he worked his fingers then his wrapped cock into my hole. I was holding onto the railing not sure what was to happen next, I was in no way a virgin but this one of the larger cock I had ever had in my hole. To get more leverage he lifted my left leg to the middle chain, opening up his access to my boycunt, he soon lifter my right leg to the chain as well, I was holding onto the top rail and bounced on his cock, the twink giving up any hope of sucking my load out began jerking my cock instead. I rode the daddy for about 10 minutes and noticed several of the curtains had parted and the occupants were jerking their cocks to the sight of my hole being pounded on the ropes, daddy leaned in and whispered just load enough for everyone watching to hear “oops the condom just broke” I began to bounce harder knowing his raw cock had invaded my bowel “just keep fucking me” I moaned back at him, several of the voyeurs began orgasming realizing I was going to take daddies load. Daddy pushed in harder pushing me up into the rail as his cock began to spasm, my as clenched down as my own orgasm sprayed over my fellow twinks face, he buried my cock in his throat as Daddy made a show of it and spewed the last spurts on my back and ass. The twink came up on the platform and daddy licked the cream from his face and began making out with the boy, before guiding his cock to my hole, giving me my second ride of the night. I knew it was risky to take this boy raw, but I was dammed if I was going to wait for him to suit up. He didn’t last long which was good as shortly after he blasted his load into my hole, an attendant came in to clean the room, I friend of mine but still he was at work and our orders were to keep it safe. I worked the baths for three years while I obtained my undergraduate degree, I was beginning to make a good living freelancing software development and application programs, but was offered a internship at a company that was making inroads in the technology world so I took them up, following my own business plan of making sure my freelance work didn’t impede on what I was developing for the corporation. I was offered a position with the company when my internship was over, pulling in a good salary, complete with bonuses. I continued going to the bath house throughout my obtaining a graduate degree, my friends who worked there knowing my fondness of cum would save up the full condoms and give them to me, a throwback to when I used to work there and collect the used specimens myself. I liked empting them into a jar then using the cream for lube or making cum ice cubes with the mysterious liquid, I was a cum junkie, occasionally inserting the cubes in my rectum then working the defrosting cum into my hole with a dildo. I worked for the corporation for several years until they got greedy and decided they owned everything I developed, claiming intellectual license on my software creations, they sued me for breach of contract for developing software for other individuals, I counter sued and won, I worked for them, they didn’t own me or my intellectual creations. I was beginning to tire of the fast life and corporate stresses anyway. That and shortly after my 19th birthday while I was still at college the health center called me in to let me know I had tested positive for HIV, it really hadn’t come as a shock given how big of a cumdump I had become and how I would get fucked bare behind closed door at the bath house on a regular basis, I never let it slow my sexual desire down I just kept taking and giving loads. I went through the early meds and the later cocktails bringing my viral load down and my t cell count up, in the early 2000’s I moved to the suburbs and began leading what some would describe as a quieter life, then 2 years ago after my settlement with the corporation I found my current home, a quaint estate farm house surrounded on three sides by farmland, several 100 acres that I now own. On the forth side is a quiet development, part of the original acreage of the estate which had been sold off to a developer around 2002. My new neighbor was a single mom with two teenage sons 15 and 16. Cheryl the mom told me the boys were just 11 months apart, as I got settled in and renovated the farmhouse to my liking Cheryl, Tyler and Jackson were of great help. Over the past two years I’ve become good friends with Cheryl, and have become a male role model for Tyler and Jackson her sons, Tyler turned 18 earlier in the middle of the week and Cheryl and Jackson were over at the farmhouse, getting assistance on putting the final touches on his birthday party for tomorrow evening, when Cheryl realize she had forgotten some of her notes. I offered to run over and get them for her, she handed me her keys and I rushed across the backyards and onto her back patio, unlocked the back door letting myself in then hurried up the stairs to her study, passing Tyler’s room as I went, hearing noise coming from the room I peeked in to notice in the dressing mirror the reflection of Tyler, shirtless and his shorts around one ankle, lying on the bed one hand wrapped around his cock the other fingering his hole, his tablet propped up playing what looked and sounded like bareback porn. I passed by quietly and went back down stairs, opened and closed the back door loudly and hurried back into the living room, shuffling Cheryl’s notes on the coffee table as if that was where I found them, Tyler joined me thinking I had just walked in, and not had caught him masturbating upstairs. “Hey Tyler your Mom and Jackson are over my place, putting the finishing touches on your party tomorrow, we just finished dinner but there’s still some left over, come join us” Tyler now dressed in a clean white tee shirt and loose fitting basketball shorts, although it did little to hide his deflating hard on, acted like nothing had been going on, and followed me across the backyards and back to my farmhouse. He greeted his mom and brother and began chowing down on the leftover meatloaf and potatoes, indicating he had just got home and was changing out of his work uniform when he heard me come in to get the notes for his mom. We finished up the preparation and I sent the three back home, knowing I’d be seeing Tyler again soon

https://www.xtube.com/video-watch/gloryhole-bare-fuck-21111572 one of the hottest, sleaziest, bare fuck GH vids on the net in my opinion!

well, even if the owner of this site has always kept it free of charge for us we don't have to forget that this is a commercial site and the sponsor's condition forced the moderators to follow some strict guidelines. It's not my intention to debate about what is or isn't permitted here but that are the facts. Shoreboy should be really pissed of but I hope to read soon his news...

There's a really fun thing a dom top can do to really round of a good raw pissfuck. I did it once on the spur of the moment in one very vert rare sessions playing dom top (I can do it just not for long). I met up the sub slut I going to use for what we had agreed in advance would be a bit of a "hard aggo fuck', which is what he particularly wanted - be careful what you ask for lol! At that point we'd only messaged on line and not met. As soon as we met in one of the London saunas' I went straight into "character" with "get on your fucking knees bitch and suck" ?. Went on much the same very verbal abusive manor. After a while he was on his back, me fucking his cunt and I just stopped and told him (not ask hehehe) "stay still bitch I'm going to piss up your fucking cunt". Once I'd unloaded all my pissvI started fucking it in. After doing that for a while a lovely evil thought occurred. So I went down and started eating his cunt out and right at the bed sucked as much of my piss back out then lent over to give him a big full "removing tonsils" kiss. What I didn't let on, and the slut hadn't the faintest inkling of, was I big mouthful of my piss I'd just feltched out of his cunt and made sure the whole load went straight into his. Then finished with my hand over his mouth and "swallow it bitch!" and made sure he did. The look on his face was priceless ? Afterwards, when was just me, rather than in character, he relaxed and said I'd actually began scare him a bit... Hehehe

I had to chuckle a bit as I read the posts here about how often gay men think they look younger than they are... But as a bearded bald guy that looks his age, I love it when a younger man calls me daddy. It makes me want to put my cock in his mouth, or in his ass. It lets me know, 99% of the time, he'll be an obedient sub. As for that 1%, I met a 25 yr old who loved fucking me with his 8" cock, calling me daddy the whole time, and me coaching him to fuck daddy good.

This is the right answer. Treponema Pallidum is extremely susceptible to penicillin, and it's gone in hours after the shot. Antibiotic resistance to it is rare. In a way it's one of the easiests STDs to treat if found early. While the bacteria is gone, all the other chancres and lesions may take a while to clear, but you will be fine.

Part 6- Quickly I scooted to the edge of the bed and hopped up, nearly diving for the newcomer’s crotch. Kneeling down, I came face to face with his massive, thick cock surrounded by a thick bush of bright red hair, the black scorpion tattoo above it made a striking contrast. I ran my fingers along the black ink, admiring the stark beauty. Up close, his massive balls looked even larger, and I imagined what it would feel like to feel them slapping against my legs. “You did say you wanted a thick poz rod, right?” Garrett asked, patting my shoulder and taking a deep puff on the thick black cigar in his mouth, “Well Brad’s meat here gets nice and thick when he’s loading up a tight neg boy hole with his bug.” “Don’t just sit there and look at it you stupid slut,” the newcomer, Brad, said gruffly, a slight southern accent coming through as he puffed away at his cigar, “Wrap your fucking lips around it and get it ready to rape your cunt. My stinger is ready to fill you up with its venom.” I took a deep inhale of smoke from my pipe and then opened my mouth as wide as I could, taking as much of his semi-hard cock into my mouth as I could and started to suck. Slowly I exhaled the smoke through my nose, enjoying the look of the thick pipe smoke drifting through his forest of hair around his cock as my mouth slowly salivated around the quickly hardening cock in my mouth. Soon I was slurping away at his tool, spit dripping down my chin as I desperately tried to swallow his rod. Brad seemed to be enjoying himself. His hands were wrapped around my head occasionally pulling my face down, and he had tossed his head back, groaning as he hauled away at his cigar. I continued to look up at him as I sucked his now fully hard dick, taking in the forest of red fur all over his perfectly muscled body… my eye followed every curve of his abs, how his hips cut out from his groin, he perfectly formed pecs and massive biceps. My cock throbbing at the sight and the manly smell of musk and sex emanating from his groin. My concentration broke when I heard Ren begin to moan deeply from the bed, presumably from a deep-dicking he was now getting from Garrett. “Get on the bed next to that Asian bitch,” Brad said, pulling my head off his dick before lightly smacking my face and blowing his thick cigar smoke in my face, “Time I sampled that neg pussy and breed you full of my special fuck juice.” Slowly I nodded, to which his reply was to smack his cock hard in my face. I gasped as he grinned wickedly down at me. Immediately, I sprang up and joined Ren on the bed, kneeling on the edge and watching the poz couple fuck. The groaning I had heard was exactly as I thought, with Garrett deep-dicking Ren and slamming as hard as he could in the creamy muscular ass. What must have been my load was glistening on Garrett’s cock as he raped the Asian’s hole as they both smoked like chimneys. In my mind, I hoped that my ass looked remotely as good as Ren’s stretch ass-lips did wrapping around a big dick like Garrett’s. “Bend the fuck over, you stupid faggot. Time to properly convert that neg pussy.” I instantly did as I was told, and without any further delay, Brad’s rough, calloused hands were grabbing my hips and his massive cock was entering my cum-filled, well-lubed ass. His large cock began to penetrate me, stretching me even wider than before with his extremely thick tool. I once again began to moan, this time in a little pain. Ren instantly had the bottle of poppers and a new pre-filled pipe in front of me. I took several hits off the bottle before shoving the pipe deep in my mouth. “That's one hot piece of poz meat you’re getting charged up with,” Ren said in between moans, holding his lighter up to my bowl as I puffed it to life, Brad’s cock slamming deep into my hole, “I can't wait to see how wrecked your cunt is after he adds his load.” For a brief moment, I stopped and thought about what I was doing. Taking knowingly poz loads deep into my hole. Stretching out my formerly tight hole around random men’s cocks. Smoking and enjoying a massive pipe while being in the center of an orgy. I shouldn’t be doing this. What would my parents think? Wouldn’t this mean I would never find a nice boy to date? But the second I felt his massive cock-head rubbing along my prostate, my worries disappeared. I wanted nothing more than for him to rape my ass as hard as he could and fill my ass with as much of his bugged-up load as he could. I wanted to have a piercing in my dick like Garrett, and tattoos all over my body like all of them. I wanted to have a huge biohazard on my chest, proudly declaring how much of a cum whore I am. These men would be the ones to help me get everything I wanted. “Oh god, rape my hole,” I gasped, feeling Brad’s heavy balls bouncing against my legs as his pubes brushed against my stretched out hole, “Give me your poz load! Help make my ass a toxic cum dump.” I began to puff and inhale deeply on my pipe, savoring the mixture of the feeling of the smoke deep in my lungs and my prostate getting slammed. “Fuck Gare, you weren’t lying, “ Brad said, sliding in and out of my hole slowly, the cigar never leaving his mouth, “this is one sweet boy cunt. Fucker even feels tight after taking both you and your boy’s dicks. Hard to believe he was prime virgin mean when he came here tonight.” He seemed intent on taking things slowly, but I decided it was time to take things up a notch. After stealing a few quick tugs on my hard prick, I started to slam back as hard as I could, bouncing back after taking the redhead’s hard meat to the root. Over and over again I shoved my hole down on him, eliciting a string of dirty talk from Brad as I tried to match the jackhammering Garrett was giving Ren. “Fucking eh… this neg bitch really wants the bug bad. Bet he can’t wait ‘til he gets a heavy case of the fucking flu so he has a good excuse to take as many loads up his dirty little chute.” What he said perfectly described what I needed. I needed this man’s dirty load inside me. I wanted to feel the virus taking over me, permanently changing my DNA into the cum-crazed whore I always wanted to be. I needed every load possible tonight to help fulfill my dream. And I told him exactly that. “Fuck yes!” I yelled, squeezing my hole as tight as I could as his dick pummeled the tight flesh of my rectum, “Fill my useless dump with your dirty load and help me convert. I can't wait until my cock and balls are dripping with poison like yours! I want and deserve to become a fucking poz cum whore!” Suddenly, Garrett let out a strangled cry and collapsed on top of Ren, shaking slightly as he emptied another load deep up his boyfriend’s ass. This caused Ren to shoot without touching himself, the first spurt of cum shooting far and away from him and hitting me on the cheek. Both Brad and I watched the scene, smoking even faster in lust as we continued fucking. Finally, I felt him tense up. Within seconds, he grabbed my hips as hard as he could, likely leaving bruises as he buried himself as deep as possible up my hole. “Fucking take it!” Brad yelled, his cock now twitching and jerking deep inside me, coating my intestines with thick warm ribbons of charged up cum, “Take all my dirty fucking load you fucking slut. I’m giving it to you, fucking bug whore!” “Give it to me! Give me everything you got!” I yelled out, clenching down on his cock as I felt the heat spreading from deep inside me as his virus-laden load coated my insides. Sweat dripped from both of us as the ginger held his massive cock deep inside me, occasionally twitched and groaned every time I made any slight movement. Slowly, Brad began to pull his slowly deflating cock from my hole, pulling my pipe from my mouth and locking lips with me. Blowing his smoke into me, I gladly inhaled, enjoying the taste as our tongues met. Finally, his cock plopped out of my hole with a wet squelch, and he pulled away. “You weren’t fucking lying, Gare,” he said, slapping my ass lightly as he stuck his smoldering cigar back in his mouth, “That boy had a beautiful tight cunt there. I’ll see you in the sling room if you convince these whores to get down there. This one definitely will be getting another dose of unmedicated cum from me if they do.” With that, Brad walked out of the room, his towel over his shoulder as he left the door standing wide open. All that marked he was there was a cloud of thick cigar smoke trailing out the doorway into the dark hallway. As I felt all of the cum dripping from my hole down my leg and balls, I turned to Ren and Garrett with only one thing on my mind. And at that moment, I told them exactly what I wanted. “More.”

PART 9 　 I headed home with a well satified but sore hole. I could feel cum leaking out into my pants all the way. I walked into the house quickly and up the stairs to our bedroom. I took the pants off as the rear was pretty wet with cum and some was running down my legs also. I jumped in the shower to clean up. As I was washing my ass I felt the cum still oozing out of me and stuck a couple of my own fingers up me and it really poured out then, finally slowing and stopping. My fingers felt great in me though. My cock had gotten hard as well as I ran my fingers in and out of my hole. My hole was sore as hell but felt too good to stop also. As I continued running my fingers in and out, my cock erupted again, spewing my cum against the wall of the shower. I got out and got dressed and then grabbed my other pants I had had on earlier and took them into the bathroom to clean up some. I could see a lot of cum in them. I couldn't stop myself and brought them up to my face and stuck my tongue out and lapped the cum up. It was delicious. I then tucked the pants deep into the laundry so they would dry before being found. I then went down to supper as if nothing were different, but my mind was on how to get away to get fucked more. I could not seem to think of anything else now.

Buddy stood up and stretched his muscles, then grabbed me roughly by the arm, and tossed me into the chair he had just vacated. Grabbing my hips, he pulled me to the edge, flipped my legs up, and began lubing my hole from a bottle of lube he'd brought. The lube burned a bit, and when I bitched, he told me to shut up and take it. Eventually he began sliding his finger in and out then he reached into a pocket, and slid his finger back inside. I could feel that he'd stuck something inside which was when I realized what was happening. He was booty bumping me, with what I had no idea, and without bothering to ask for permission. My asshole was burning, my heart was racing, and suddenly I was a moaning sloppy mess. I'd always enjoyed dosing sluts and taking advantage, and now those tables had turned. 'Look at you, big strong man to tina-whore in one swoop!' He leaned forward, and I felt his cock brushing my hole. I moaned. My hips flexed. The tip entered. He began to open me. I moaned and my hard cock flopped around on my belly, more of his shaft was slipping in and out now, and I could feel his thickness riding my prostate I moaned with pleasure and realized that soon my balls were going to explode. His hips kept rolling that giant shaft deeper and deeper as he continued fucking my virgin hole. His hands fumbled again in his jacket, and he produced a glass pipe and a large lighter. Clicking the trigger, he began to warm the pipe, then drawing the resulting thick white vapour into his lungs. Staring at me, he said, 'Inhale this' As he spoke the words, wisps of white cloud issued from his mouth. Leaning down (and sliding deeper into my spasming hole) he kissed me hard and blew into my lungs. I felt lungs expand with the drugs he was forcing into me. I moaned. My hips flexed. I breathed out. The cloud swirled thickly and I felt the last inches of that huge cock slide home. I was fully opened. Staring down at me, he began to grind into my hole, and play the torch over the pipe again. Breathing deep, then again leaning down to shotgun the potent vapour into my lungs. I groaned aloud as my tortured prostate gave up and pumped my sperm out in an enormous orgasm. The clouds poured out of my throat and I frantically pulled him deeper into me. He began to stroke his cock in and out f me, using my hole thoroughly, long smooth strokes that were quickly carrying me to another orgasm despite my flaccid cock. I moaned and writhed as I cam again, chanting the words 'fuck me' over and over. He grunted and obviously came, pulsing into my begging hole, and continued on still hard. I thanked god for viagra as he slammed into me.

Thanks guys for your comments, here is the following of the events. We slept for about four hours or so and woke up horny, as well as still being a bit high from yesterday. We went to take a breakfast, after which we rested, readying ourselves for the evening. In late afternoon we returned to the hotel, and began checking Grindr and Gay Romeo to keep the party going on. I was on my knees taking care of my Big Daddy's cock when he told me that a nice hairy Israeli would be stopping by the hotel, that he was quite a hottie, and he had a nice cut braun cock. Now, I have a thing for hairy guys, so when he arrived, I knelt in front of him without hesitation, and took his cock into my mouth, initially sucking softly and gently, just to get the measure of his cock. As his cock was (at least initially) fairly flaccid, I enjoyed giving him slow, deep-throated attention, especially as my experience that is the best way to turn a flaccid cock into a rigid pole. As I anticipated, the more I sucked him, the harder he got, so when fully erect, I had to re-position myself on my back to achieve the proper angle to deep-throat him. All the while my Big Daddy was slowly slamming his big cock into my ass, giving me the soft, kind service I craved. The Israeli, however, would not be content with a blow job, no matter how skillful, and, gesturing to Big Daddy to withdraw, the Israeli flipped me over, making my ass an offering to his cock. He dove in directly, and so skillfully had Big Daddy opened my ass that the Israeli was in full-depth in one stroke. I moaned in surprise and pleasure. His subsequent strokes were a bit more slow and deliberate, and as he pleasured himself, he and Big Daddy kept up a dirty dialogue as I grunted, groaned and moaned, offering my ass like a whore or a slut. After half an hour we switched position as I wanted to ride his beautiful cock. I've found riding cock is possibly my favorite position, not necessarily for my pleasure, but rather because of the pleasure it afforded my top. The Israeli was on board with my suggestion, so he lay on the bed, I squatted over his dick, sliding down on his pole, flexing my ass muscles to intensify his pleasure. The adrenaline was running high, and, while both Big Daddy and I were excited, the Israeli was more excited than either of us, as his remarks suggest "Oh my fucking God, do you feel me inside you? Oh, fuck, man, fuck, your ass feels fuckin' amazing." A little preview for the suit, please keep commenting and giving me advice for my writing!

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.

I am personally on no meds at the moment in way it is my way to embrace being poz. For now I see my dingoes as being taboo allowing me to be a true sexual pig. At some point I know I will go on meds and I no I don't want Aids or to die like that but I also know that how I came about contracting HIV and accepting that I would contract it when I was playing would have been reckless. Why contract something only to begin treating it, if I do that I should have gone on Prep. I don't know but I have seen someone I know laying in that bed dying from Aids and it truly is a horrible death.

When I was 15, went to a high school party at some dude's house. It was a mix of girls and guys, but I was bullied and one guy jumped on top of me, thus knocking me down to the ground and started humping me. Strangely for me at the time, I got rock hard and started questioning my sexuality. When I was 17, met a guy off a chat room who I thought was a few years older than me, turns out he was 50+. He tried to fuck me, but I was way too tight and inexperienced at the time plus I was bigger than him so I was able to heave him off me and left. When I got home, I realized how turned on I was. That was when I realized I was 100% gay. Wasn't until a couple of bottoms encounters that I realized that I was 100% sissy cum dump bottom. Now I take any cock, no load refused. My cock is absolutely useless.

2. Condemned There’s nothing you and I won’t do I’ll stop the world and melt with you The warm night air felt good. No, a shit fuck better than that. The night felt like it was groping him, diddling with his brain as much as booty. It felt outrageous being naked on a rooftop on a hot summer night, his first night in New York, with the breeze drying his matted hair. The city lights were so foreign, many lit windows from high-rises off in the distant, like far off stars, like oil tankers out on a black sea. It made him feel he's in an alien world; he is. In alien skin; he is. Time felt fluid, running backward and forward, never fixed. He smelled piss drying on his skin. He licked it reminding himself it's Manetti's stench he's wearing. It's the only thing he's wearing, except his brother's wet jock around his neck. How fucked up is that?! His tightening skin reminds him of how it used to be when he came out of the ocean back home, the feeling of salt drying under a blazing sun. Tonight, though, a full moon beamed overhead. As they clamored over embankments to the neighboring building, he's still rushing with the vulgarity of his thoughts. He’s not expressing them out loud anymore, but they're still running through his brain. He keeps coming back to a memory that a man just peed on him, that he's going to visit someone, naked, someone Manetti calls his ‘Master.’ He has no reference for what a Master is except for pictures in a magazine. It's part of an imaginary vocabulary. A Zeus figure or Mister Universe. More of a cartoon really. He's not really thinking though. His thoughts are like birds that have escaped their cage and flying lost in the air; freedom they’ve never had before and don’t know what to do with. Manetti leading him is the only thing that grounds him to earth. If he thinks at all it only happens in small bursts. Fragments. He's nervous. He sees his dick has shrunk. His balls feel cold and hide, shriveled up inside him. This moment he's nervous. The next he's more excited than nervous. He regarded Manetti' arms. He's still very horny. Manetti had enormous triceps that flexed under the full moon as he pulled himself over the half wall to the next building. Manetti reached out a hand and helped pull him up. The moon had a glowing ring around it. During the last full moon he was looking at it from the rear window of an Impala, made a decision he wasn’t going back to school the next day. Now here he is naked on a rooftop, being led on a dog leash. Life’s so strange; it is. Wait. There's a collar around his neck? When did that happened? Are there other things he's not remembering? The leash Manetti's holding is attached to his collar. That seems familiar now, part of the plan. Wait. What's the plan exactly? Another thought pops in his head while he's feeling the studs on his collar. He gathers some birds together to string out a sentence. Making sentences is hard and takes enormous effort. "This building,” he said in a hushed voice to Manetti, like someone was going to overhear them. “The one we're on. Sir. Walking on. Tink-tink." He shows him fingers like they're walking, like Manetti wouldn’t know what walking meant. "Yes?" said Manetti. They're at the next building's rooftop hatch. "The front door said 'condemned.' This one." Chris pointed downward. He closed his eyes. A picture formed from a few hours ago. Metal buttons. His brother's name on tape. He steps in a puddle, real time, right now, in his bare feet on the tar roof. He's back in the here and now. It's warm, the puddle. He thinks he’d like to sit down in it. A leash tugs him on. He’s never been on a leash before. He kind of likes it. He could see himself being a dog. Maybe a pet for Manetti and his brother. He’d sleep on the floor, he would. His mind is flying off. Wet shoes that squished. He remembered that. He was cold. When was that? "This building," he said to Manetti absently. "The front door and all the windows were boarded up. Like no one’s home." "That's what Master wants people to think." Manetti popped open the hatch and pointed down the stairs. Chris looked in and descended into the darkness. It's quiet except for the creak of the stairs. Chris' heart raced. He relied heavily on the banister going down, but this feeling of nervous excitement, palpitations, it never leaves him, not since Manetti stuck the needle in his arm. When was that? Wet shoes. He's lost the thread. He's anxious to meet Manetti's Master. He’s curious what Manetti's Master could possibly look like. He gathered birds and released them to Manetti. "What's he like, Sir? Master Drax." Moonlight poured from the skylight over the stairs onto their bare shoulders. He can’t see what’s in the shadows. Formless things. Nameless. It’s the drugs that make him imagine things that aren't there, he told himself, but he’s walking slower. Manetti had to keep nudging him forward so he doesn't bump into him. Manetti sensed Chris was having second thoughts. As they walked the long hall, Manetti told Chris the short version of Master Drax, owner of a stable of boys, all kinds, he and Ben among them. A defrocked priest from Eastern Europe, they all, the stable boys, think. He talked to him in a voice you'd use to corral a young colt you were breaking in, inching him closer to the only door down the corridor. "And he publishes magazines, vanilla ones and hard core ones, too. You said you liked them, the ones under Ben's bed," Manetti suggested. "Do you think he know where my brother is?" Chris asked as they stopped at the door. Manetti put his hand on Chris' shoulder, as much a gesture calm him as well as making sure he wouldn't bolt. With the other hand he knocked. “I wouldn't ask him that tonight.” "I like Magnum." said Chris. They heard someone unlatch the door. “I wonder where he is.” "Maybe you can be in Magnum someday." The door opens and Chris jumps, backing into Manetti. *** A very tall, very lanky black man, a bit older than Manetti, examined the two visitors at the door. The young, very white one, was being propped up by the one he knew as Manetti. The man wore only a harness, naked otherwise, and was shaved from head to toe including his eyebrows. A very long, dangling cock gripped by a metal ring had a leather strap running from his cock to his chest, then split out to each bony shoulder and ran down his back. His cheeks were hollow, and his mouth was agape, and each tooth filed to a sharp point. Manetti pushed Chris away, but Chris quickly took a step back again. "Hello, Jamal," Manetti said. "We're expected." "Yes," the servant said, unfazed by the rudeness of scaredy-boy. "He is waiting in great room. This is the new one?" he asked in his faint island accent. Manetti nodded. Jamal appraised the kid with the wide blue eyes. There was a flicker of lust that brought out a grotesque smile. He then turned and led them down the hall. Manetti stepped in front of Chris, annoyed, yanked him along by his leash. Chris whispered in his ear, “The guy’s teeth.” Manetti quietly answered back, “Too many complaints about bad blow jobs so Master had all his teeth yanked out. Has to wear fake ones or nothing.” Chris scanned the crumbling walls as they walked. Pornographic graffiti filled every inch. Men with large pompadours, sailors, woodsmen, with big tits, big butts, and bigger cocks getting fucked and fisted, and were either pissing or spewing cum. Chris whispered again to Manetti, "Like hieroglyphics. Dirty ones." Manetti yanked his chain. "Stop talking." The hallway ended in a large living room. A fireplace, too hot to be lit, was filled with candles. Standing candelabras were also scattered throughout the room. A few Klieg lights stood dark in corners. The room was covered in peeling red paint. Tin plates on the ceiling were broken in areas where water had seeped in. The floor had rotted out years back. Now warm, stale air seeped up through the cracks of the floorboards. Two old black leather wingback chairs faced each other on both sides of the fireplace, a tattered leather couch between them. Master Drax, sipping a glass goblet of some blood-red liquid, motioned for Manetti to take the opposite chair. Chris stood between them facing the fireplace not knowing where to look after the first shock of seeing Master Drax. Manetti quickly spoke: "Kneel, boy. Eyes down." Chris knelt staring at the candles on the lip of the fireplace. What brief glance he’d gotten of the sitting man, was that he possessed the biggest cock he’d ever seen; it's played in his mind. Even Jamal’s ringed cock paled to the black clad figure. "Michael, where is his cage?" Master Drax asked. "Put it on him." Manetti rose and went down on one knee to hook the chastity cage over Chris' genitals. He took Chris’ arms and placed them behind his back. Once the cage was locked, Manetti rose and handed the key to his Master. It was the first time Chris ever had his penis and balls shackled. The metal was cold and constricted tightly around him like a vice. If he felt helpless before, he now felt hopeless. Chris tried to give the Master a fast sideways glance but only saw Jamal who stood behind him. He smirked his razor grin from the sidelines. "Has he at all been hard since you drugged him with, what, methamphetamine?" Chris looked down to see his cock was indeed shriveled to the size of a peanut inside the cage. "Yes, Master Drax. He actually has a nice piece on him. So scrawny, he looks above average." "Really?" Master Drax said in somewhat disbelief. "Tell me, Michael, exactly have you given him so far? A full account, if you would." "Eight drops of GHB, which I shared a little with him to encourage him. His works had point two meth. And a Valium in case you wanted to fist him, Master. He also drank some chem piss but not much. He's a virgin, well, was as of two hours ago. I have to say he takes a good fuck, opened pretty quick after about an hour. His hole was loose when I shaved him, but probably it’s tight again." Master Drax leaned forward and spoke, with a bit of a smile, conspiratorially to Chris. "Michael would make a good pimp for you, wouldn't he? You would do anything for him." Chris stared into the fireplace, not knowing what was expected of him. His right hand tightly clutched his left wrist behind his back. His unease made him dig his nails into his flesh. "Tell me: of all the enhancements Michael provided, what did you like best? You can speak. Look up at me." Chris looked up. His earlier glimpse of the man registered as a big dicked scary old man, a man with glasses, black vest and crotchless chaps. And though he had sat far back in the chair, his huge uncut cock had hung over the seat of the wingback chair. That anaconda of a cock is what registered most and still does. Now that he was able to truly take him in, his initial fear was not diminished by what he’d seen, but now possibly built on it. Bald, random liver spots covered his head. Behind wire-rim glasses, rheumy eyes darted from his skeletal sockets. The glasses hooked around large ears, where black hairs jutted around the fleshy lobes. His stubbly beard couldn't hide severely sunken, ashy cheeks, and in his open mouth there were multiple missing teeth. His tongue slithered over chapped lips, and his jaw had the junky habit of gnawing from side to side that his mother had when she itched for a fix. He breathed heavily through his nose like Manetti did right after he slammed. That nose was narrow and hooked, hung with green mucus extending as he huffed in and out. He saw Chris was mesmerized, so as he removed his vest and touched himself in a manner that a whore might use to attract a timid client. With his vest removed, he ran his hand over large white breasts that hung down to a pair of engorged nipples, each one pierced with mammoth horseshoes of heavy silver metal. He fondled them noting Chris' reaction. A silver pentagram swung on a chain and rested between his sagging breasts. Tattoos adorned his torso and arms. The first image that caught Chris’ eye was of a large dragon, identical to the one Ben had draped over his shoulder with its accompanying tail covering the old man's pronounced rib cage. Words were inked up and down his arms, all in Latin, some spiraled around his forearm, others in bands around his shriveled biceps. Chris recognized some of them stored in a backlog from catechism: Deus, mortem, cazzo, satanas. Though he didn't know what the phrases said, they couldn't have translated to anything good. Mixed in with the words were inverted crosses, a triangle of sixes on his other shoulder, horned creatures fucking, a goat with an erection, a man hanging by his foot. Most of the ink was old, faded, blended into his shriveling skin. There was one exception. A somewhat newer one etched over his hard, distended belly: the same three-pronged biohazard symbol Manetti had. Below his belly he had a vast field of grey public hair. Beneath the translucent hair, a demon's mask, the long, slender tongue extending along the top of his manhood down to the tip where it hung off with an obscene amount of hanging foreskin. Within the wrinkled foreskin, thick yellow spooge formed and crusted. Master Drax inched closer to get a better look at Chris. He was still awaiting an answer. He propped his elbows on this knees to support himself, his hands folded monk-like before him. Chris glanced at the arms. They were heavily bruised with track marks and scabbed veins; one engorged artery still had a bead of bright red blood shimmering. He saw the boy starting at it. He extended his arm. Before he could stop himself Chris licked the bead. “Very good, child,” the Master beamed. "You have proper instincts." Chris felt himself sitting inside his head, detached somehow. He thought he would have been repelled, but oddly, examining him at such close range, as at the same time he was being inspected, he was strangely drawn to the man. Before this moment, if he'd come across him on the street, he might try to avoid him, cross the street. But being scrutinized so attentively by him in this moment, kneeling naked in front of him, he still had fear, some repulsion, yes, but he couldn't deny an undercurrent of desire. The Master immediately pick up on his thoughts, for as Chris gazed down at the demonic mask etched on his pubis, it was evident that an erection was beginning to form. The serpent tongue stirred within the overflowing foreskin, a monstrous snail emerging from its shell. Chris, too, was starting to become aroused the longer he took in man's strangeness. But for him the feeling of arrested movement reminded him painfully and clearly that his dicklet was going nowhere. He summoned the courage to look pleadingly at Master Drax, but he wasn't ready for the Master’s stare that entrapped him. Like a tiny mouse might freeze all functions when looked down on by a giant cobra, Chris froze. Didn’t move, didn’t blink, barely breathed. Master Drax's presence was formidable, a fact he felt deeper than anything he'd ever sensed inside. A bit of urine dripped from his cage that too quickly turned into a stream that fell through the floorboards, echoing floor after floor below. Master Drax gave out an asthmatic, rumbling laugh, coughed up phlegm, pointed to the boy’s mouth. Chris opened it slowly. Master Drax hurled his green phlegm directly into his mouth. He then pointed to the boy’s stomach. Chris blinked, then swallow nauseously. And still the man held him in a awe. His dark eyebrows raised. There had been a question dangling, Chris at last remembered. Birds settling down on their perches. However far his control might extend, Master Drax was able to make him focus. He thought back to what the man had asked, what he'd like best, responded cautiously, "I guess I like the slam, Sir." "It’s ’Master,’ boy," instructed Master Drax without malice. With slight satisfaction of the boy’s performance thus far, he sat back in the chair. The released tension in the room was a pronouncement of having done and said the right things. Having felt he answered correctly, he sat with a bit straighter spine, and said, "Sorry, Master. I liked the slam best, definitely." He was almost confident, an emotion he rarely felt. "And only a point two slam,” he said to the boy, shaking his head theatrically. “I don't know if I'd even feel that, Michael. We'll double that in a bit, maybe five, we'll see. Your name, child?" Chris became alarmed. There followed an awkward silence, while Chris contemplated what a doubled slam, or possibly more, would do to him. He would be insane, would never survive. He was terrified at the prospect, slumped again a little. "Chris," volunteered Manetti, when it was obvious there wasn't an answer coming from the boy. "Is that short for Christopher, child?" Chris' mouth felt incredibly dry but managed to reply, "Christian, Master." "Christian," he said savoring the word on his lips. "A Christian in our house, Jamal." He looked back at his servant who nodded approvingly. "We shouldn't change that a bit, should we, Michael?" Chris had trouble looking at the Master after he proposed the double slam, one so close on the heels of his first. He worried the man saw his fear, read what he thought. To try to deflect, he darted his eyes around the room. Silhouettes against the walls outlined the shadow of a massive wooden slings, a Saint Andrews cross, a fuck bench—things he’d seen in Magnum but never imagined he’d encounter in real life—an examination table with stirrups raised high, a large wooden throne with a toilet seat cutout, and a three foot high cage with an expansive padded top. He spotted a video camera pointing out the window into an air shaft. Across the air shaft he recognized Manetti's studio. Master Drax, it was obvious, had been their audience. "So besides slamming, Christian, what else did you like to do with Michael?" Master Drax played with the foreskin of his growing erection. Pulling back the skin, its head was pierced by a horseshoe P.A. that ended in two sharp points at either ends. He uncovers it to show Chris, then lets the skin fall back covering the jewelry. His erection was already the size of Chris’ forearm, from elbow to wrist. He couldn’t imagine it getting any bigger or how anyone could take being penetrated by it. Just looking at it wide eyed, obliterating any of his thoughts. He knew once again there’s a question, but words wouldn’t form in its monstrous presence. The two sharp points rose out of the foreskin as the beast begins to stand on its own. "He takes a fuck real good," Manetti chimes in to help Chris out. "He took my..." Before Manetti embellished, Chris spat out, "Eating ass. I like to eat ass." It was as if he were back in the confessional, compelled to empty his soul. Manetti chuckled, adding, "Pretty dirty ass, too, Master. Not many guys like to get in there.” "Yes," Master Drax said in a low voice. "Look, the child’s little bird is struggling in its cage. Confession frees the soul, but will not free your cock. You tiny prick is of no interest to me. Stand and turn around." Chris did as he was ordered. "Bend over. Spread your cheeks." Master Drax let out a groan. "Boy, didn’t you ever play with your hole? Boys come to me with their hole destroyed from massive toys. Yours looks like you've never touch it. How tight is he, Michael?" "Tight as fuck, Master Drax. The booty bump helped, otherwise it would have taken hours." "You were able to get in before the slam?" Manetti nodded. "Okay, kneel, boy. You, too, pig.” Both of them got to their knees. "I don't know how much this greasy pig has told you, but I own him and your brother. Depending on what happens between us tonight, I might own you, too. Do you think that you would like that, boy?" "Yes, Sir…Master. I think so." Master Drax leaned over close. The nipple rings swung reflecting light off multiple candles, entrancing Chris, who had the compulsion to reach up and touch the man's chest. He managed, though, at least for a moment, to instead look the man in his face. But as the seconds ticked by his desires won out, and his gaze fell to the temptation of the distended nipples. "You must always fall into temptation.” The boy looked up with a start. Master Drax went on, “Yes, your thoughts are easy for me to read. Your face is an open book. I will rewrite you. You like these tits? Go ahead, touch them." Chris tentatively reached up with both hands and squeezed the engorged nubs. "Would you like yours to look like these?" Chris found himself nodding. "It'll take work. We’ll start you with small nipple rings later tonight. But you’ll have to earn them. This pig here can tell you, I like grinding boys down with their darkest perversions. I like my boys hard, like I like their holes sloppy. Sit," he said to Manetti, punching him in his breast bone hard enough to make him fall backwards. "I require their holes be loose, extremely loose. Show Christian your pig hole, pig." Manetti lifted his legs, his hairy balls falling over his sizable cock, and spreads his ass cheeks for the boy to view. As he bore down he pulled his asslips apart. Soon Manetti's red rectum started exposing itself. "Push hard." Master Drax didn’t raise his voice, but his tone grew menacing: "Harder." The red rosebud pushed opened even further, protruding just outside the ring of his sphincter. Around the edges Manetti's asslips were lumps of dark red and purple ridges. Chris' bound erection was getting very extremely uncomfortable. At first a pearl of pre-cum appeared on the piss slit, Master Drax observed, but as the boy watched Manetti strain to flair out more of his rectum, puffing out into a full prolapse, more pearls appeared. Finally pre-cum began to drool from the boy's cage to wooden floor. Master Drax watched delighted. "Go on, touch it. We'll get yours like this too, eventually. Being so young, your ring will be smooth. It will be a glorious sight to behold, won't it Jamal?" "Indeed, Master," Jamal responded, running his tongue over his teeth. Chris reached over and felt the flesh. Soft, incredibly soft. He'd never felt anything so soft. As he fingered it, Manetti let out an unconscious wail. "You want to taste it, don’t you? Go ahead. Kiss it. Kiss the inside of a man’s rectum." Chris couldn't believe he wanted to kiss it. He kissed it, and after looking at Master Drax who nodded at him, he licked it and pressed his mouth against the prolapse. He went farther, licking around each red pedals, sucking each fold splayed out before him. He pinched the ring of flesh, which made Manetti flinch, and without quite knowing why pinched it harder. Manetti cried out but had been trained not to resist. Chris searched for the center as he pulled the man’s hole further apart with his fingers. He stuck a finger inside and licked around the hole before sticking his tongue deep down inside the cavern. Manetti moaned ecstatically. Chris felt like he was coming into heat again for Manetti, but their roles felt reverse. He began chewing on the prolapse, and as he did his body temperature rose and a fine sheen of sweat glazed his body, a trickle of sweat ran down his ribs. Master Drax looked enormously pleased with the boy. "Both of you, sit," commanded the Master. He sniffed the air. "Boy, is that you I smell? B.O. and piss?" "Yes, Sir," Chris said proudly, sitting straight. "Sir pissed all over me before we came. I drank his piss too. Some went in my butt." "The boy has been homeless for the last month and hasn't showered,” Manetti explained. He gave Chris a quick look of concern. He grew aware something was changing in Chris, that he was more enthusiastic than fearful. "Excellent," Master Drax said reflexively. "Christian, do you know what limitations are?" Chris nodded. "What limitations do you think you have?" Manetti protectively broke in quickly, "He doesn’t do scat or bestiality or..." Master Drax interrupted softly, slowly, but emphatically, "Did I question you what Christian’s limitations are? Whom did I asked, Michael?" Manetti knew he'd have to pay for his outburst. "You asked Christian, Master,” Manetti said, lowering his head. Chris' felt that he, at least, is in Master's good graces and wants to please him more. "No limits, Master Drax." He'd read that in one of Ben's nastier bondage magazines. Realizing he doesn't exactly know what that means, he added tentatively, "At least that's what I'd like to be." Chris saw this made Master Drax reveal his jagged smile. Jamal nodded to Chris. A split tongue like a lizard swept across Master Drax's lips as he contemplated how to start with this near-virgin boy. "Come here. Play with my nipples, child. Nothing gets me more stimulated quicker." He was in heaven. He reached up and felt the Master's chest. Sparse grey fur swirled around his nipples. The boy's hands glided over his drooping pecs. He then dared to slip a hand into the man’s hairy arm pits. He was energized, doing things unprompted he'd never thought to do. With his other hand he was pulling on his cage. There was something in the Master's gaze that egged on his libido. Almost guided him. He felt the wet body odor emanating from Master Drax's pits. He brought his fingers out and sniffed them, then put them in his mouth. "You have a real pig's tendencies, don't you boy? Manifest much earlier than your brother." He looked down at the boy's cage. "Those tendencies will be quite beneficial and financially rewarding for us both. I cater to a specialized clientele, or has Michael told you this? Some with, uh, exotic tastes. Let's free you for tonight and see where your tendencies might lead. Pig," he said to Manetti. "Get up and take his cage off and put it on you. You don't deserve an erection tonight.” Manetti rose and got the key on the table next to Master’s chair. “You don’t deserve this either, but I’ll permit you hold Christian while I rape him.” Manetti released the lock on Chris cage and his small penis started to quickly fill out. Though his own was still flaccid, he struggled to get the cage to capture his ample meat. Jamal added assistance, pinching and prodding until his balls fit inside. They struggled with metal cap to get it locked over the shaft. “Jamal,” Master Drax said to his servant. "Leave him. He'll attend to himself. Please be so kind as to prepare cocktails for these two." "Very good, Master Drax," he replied, leaving Manetti to struggle getting his pecker in the stocks. “And one for Master?” "Of course. Yes. Make them extra hearty, Jamal. Take it from the Czech inventory, not the Mexican. And mix in a bit of Ketamine with the boy’s dose. His hole will never accommodate otherwise." The Master picked up Chris leash and pointed Manetti to the large wooden sling. "In, pig. I want you to hold him as he struggles. He is too bound to you at this point. You will be an accomplice in his rape." Manetti marched over to the sling, climbed in and put his legs through the straps. Master Drax came up behind Chris, knelt behind him, nudging his legs apart. He began fondled him intensely. His hands ran over the thin chest pulling him into himself. His enormous erect blade sliced up and down Chris’ crack, inched up the small of his back till it rested between his shoulder blades, illustrating how deep he would be penetrated. The wet foreskin left a small trace of slime as it climbed each vertebrae. The man felt all the indentations along the boy’s rib cage, pinched the small nipples, grabbed the boy’s erect dick and gave it a slap. His hand dove under his crotch weighing his dangling balls with one hand and feeling his tight, wet hole with the other. It slowly dawned on Chris, far from molesting him for his own pleasure, Master Drax was more interested in assessing him as you would an animal you were about to purchase. Sure enough, the man turned the boy around, pulled down his eyelids, then pushed up his lips sticking a finger in his mouth to open his teeth. After examining inside his mouth, he slid in a second finger, then a third, finally all four and pushed them down Chris’ throat until the boy gagged and doubled over. “No. You will not gag. Open.” Four fingers again went into his mouth as far back as Master Drax’s fingers would reach. He wanted to retch but fought against it. He'd never felt anyone assess him over so thoroughly or felt so dehumanized. The glasses enlarged Master Drax's watery eyes and continued to drill into him, wordlessly inserting himself into him. He felt the man inside his head, rooting around, rummaging inside him for something; changing something here, reordering something there. Master Drax withdrew his slime-covered fingers and wearily got up. He plucked Chris’ dangling leash from the ground and gave a small tug on the chain. As Master Drax led him toward the sling, he said, "Point two, you said? A child’s portion. Are you ready for your first man-size slam? It'll open up worlds you've never imagined. Worlds that will swallow you whole. Where you'll be mine ever after. Are you willing to succumb completely to me so I can show you those worlds?" Chris was extremely agitated, but he knew better than to contradict Master Drax, much less deny him what he knew he wanted. Instead he searched for a way to temper his fear and possibly backpedal a bit. "I'm pretty high now, Sir," Chris said uncertainly. "The first slam fucked me up good. I was saying things when I was rushing, I don't know if I really wanted to do all those things. Not really." Master Drax stopped short, looked at him with tired disappointment. "My fuckhole never says 'no'." Master Drax wasn't angry but he closely examined Chris’ face. "You want me to give you your first man-size slam? I'll ask it again, this one time only." Chris looked over at Manetti for some assurance. “Don’t look at him. Look at me.” "Yes, Sir." Chris whispered. Then seeing Master Drax was still holding him in his gaze, he added firmly, "Please, yes Master Drax, slam me however much you want." "And I will.” He finished leading his boy by the leash over to the heavy wooden sling. He unclipped the collar and let it drop noisily to the ground. “Climb up on pig. That’s correct, lie with your back on his belly. I want you to feel it while you observe it." Chris awkwardly climbed up on Manetti, with Manetti giving him a little hand to secure himself in the sling. Manetti's large, broad chest easily cradled Chris on top of him. He felt Manetti’s warm fur on his back, his hairy belly tickling his tailbone. He felt him breathing slowly beneath him. Manetti starting caressing him to get him to relax. Chris melted into him with every stroke of his large hand. He, in turn, began stroking Manetti's sides for comfort. While Master Drax was taking off his chaps folding them on a table, Chris whispered to Manetti, “I didn’t mean to hurt you when I was playing with your hole.” His head tilted so he could see Manetti’s reflection in the mirror hanging above him. “I feel your heart pounding away,” Manetti said to Chris in the reflection. “You can do this, Chief. Remember how it hurt at first but then it got better and you came to like it? Am I right or am I right?” Chris nodded with a bit of an embarrassed smile. “The K is going to help relax your hole. This will be more intense but it’s the same. I promise. I'll be here the whole time.” Jamal came back with three prepared needles and a rubber tube on a tarnished silver tray as. Master Drax followed him over and wanted to know how much Jamal had allotted. Jamal held up four fingers. Chris held tightly to Manetti's side and took a deep breath. Master Drax attended to Manetti first. Chris watched in the mirror as the needle emptied into him. Manetti coughed and he realized the man was burning up, from his chest down to his groin. He felt a wet sheen of sweat instantly coat his back. His breathing was insanely rapid. But what suddenly frightened Chris was Manetti saying, barely audible, "I can take it. I'm okay. I can take it." Over and over. If doing .4 was hard on Manetti, how was he going to bear it? Master Drax said to Jamal who stood passively staring straight ahead, "I'll do myself, you do the boy." "Very good, Master," replied Jamal, breaking into a small grin. He indicated the closest syringe on the tray was for Master. He then set the tray down on a side table. Chris looked up into Jamal’s jaundiced eyes. He saw desire smoldering in them, something he would not act on unless invited. His sumptuous black skin glowed in the candlelight. There was sweat along his strong brow. He wondered if the man had tasted any of portions he had prepared. Jamal smiled at him displaying a mouth missing all its teeth. Blackened gums were now all he had in his open maw. Jamal took up the rubber tube and placed it around Chris' bicep. He felt his forearm and decided on a pronounced vein. Removing the orange cap of the last syringe, he held it at an angle to the vein. Chris noticed that the vial wasn't clear but cloudy with a touch of pink. Jamal peered directly into Chris's eyes, saying softly with his island lilt, "I make this special, an extra gift from me to you." He retracted the plunger enough to cause it to spill Chris' blood into the pink liquid, then pushed the swirling content into his vein. "I also up you to five." The servant pulled out the syringe, released the tourniquet, and held Chris’ arm up in the air. As Chris bucked within Manetti's strong grip, the servant turned Chris' arm out to licked the bead of blood where the needle had just been.

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.

The warmth, the connection, the strength. A cock feels different than a toy does, an a bare cock does feel different than a covered one. When a guy is pounding my hole, harder and harder, full abandon and me letting go and riding the wave, there is nothing similar to hearing that final grunt and feeling that full on shudder as he dumps everything he has inside. There's a solid warmth when he pulls out and leaves his jizz behind. Just often enough for a memory that longs to be renewed, I can actually feel the guy cum, either due to the force or the angle. It's pretty damn incredible.

The first time herpes outbreak can be as bad as what you are describing. The first is almost always much, much worse than any subsequent ones though. I am not saying that is what you have, but it certainly could be.

That slave is going to have the perfect mancunt for fisting once his Master is finished with him

Click here to see Promiscuous Top's original blog post... I just got my pipes thoroughly-- THOROUGHLY-- cleaned out by a handsome bearish dude that did the honors for me maybe four years ago, when I first moved to this neighborhood. Honestly all I remembered about him was that (1) he was heavier than his pictures made him look, and not as sexy, (2) he really really had serious manstink, which is not my favorite, and (3) he was really nice to talk to afterwards. His pictures made him look *really* sexy, and hip in that hipstery way guys were hip four years ago but kinda aren't so much any more, so this all kind of added up to disappointment, really. I honestly didn't remember if the head was very good, though I guess I had a vague feeling that it had been? His place was rather squalid, on the unfashionable side of the hood, and I remember thinking for the first fifteen minutes of nothing but the possibility of bedbugs. And it seems like maybe soon after that, he stopped being on Manhunt (where he had been as much a fixture as me, I guess) and I forgot about him, except occasionally when something new would happen with the endlessly under construction building next door, which he had told me his artist friends had lived in and were being kicked out of, and which he seemed annoyed about, and which I felt vaguely guilty for, being the type of yuppie asshole who was buying the buildings around here that resulted in artists getting kicked out of things. Suddenly the other day he reappeared on Manhunt and silently viewed my profile. He had new pictures on there, including some shirt-free body shots, which he had skillfully avoided years ago. He looked pretty nice, and I thought, well, maybe I should give him another whirl. His profile did express and awesome attitude towards sucking dick. And attitude is everything. And I haven't been able to get my dick in anyone since last week. He seemed happy that I hit him up again, and told me I could bring my unit by any time for service, and reminded me he didn't swallow but wouldn't make me pull out either, and so today I went by. I came back with nuts that felt about five pounds lighter, barely able to walk from having been intensely pleasured for the better part of an hour by someone so good at cocksucking I have a strong urge to write him a formal letter of recommendation. AH! He told me he had a new studio not far from his apartment, and that the door was on the street and wide open, to just walk in. I drove over to save time and maximize the cocksucking-- work has been brutal and I can only spare so much time away lately. I parked right nearby, and it was a beautiful bright cool breezy day, perfect for getting your balls drained. I found the door, went inside, and was surrounded by costumes, paintings, props, easels, mannequins, and all kinds of stuff like that in the gloomy interior. The entry was cramped with stuff but as I pushed my way in deeper the space opened up to a big loft with a 20 foot ceiling. No one was there. I called out "hey! Hello!" and he came out of the back, wearing just a pair of shorts. "That was quick!" he said, drying his hands on a towel. He looked a lot handsomer than I remember, honestly. But the body was still pretty bearish-- not really my type but it was ok for a cocksucker. He is extremely hairy, well on the way to monkey-hairy. But he's a good looking guy really. I asked to take a leak and he showed me to a bathroom with a shower and everything in the back. I think he had just taken a shower because the place reeeeeeked of his scent, which is just as I remembered it. I know this turns on a lot of guys but yowza. I did my business, cleaned a little, and went back out. "I don't have a bed here," he said, pointing to a chair off to the side of the big loft. Daylight streamed through the open door onto the opposite wall, behind the partial wall that blocked the inner loft from the cramped entry. I looked around, shrugged, and kicked off my sneakers and dropped my shorts. I lowered myself in the chair with my thighs parted invitingly, and leaned back to receive my service. He had a big thick piece of egg-crate foam that he put on the floor in front of me. And with no ceremony, he knelt on the foam, put his face between my legs, and sucked my limp dick into his mouth. And he sucked PERFECTLY. It felt good instantly, but he was taking his time, giving me the slightest stimulation that would get me hard without overstimulating me too soon. It was PERFECT. My dick ceased to even feel like a part of me and melted into his warmth. As it got harder all I felt was the warmth intensifying. At no point was I even sure how thick or long I was; I only felt more and more unified with his throat. The smallest motions of his tongue along the whole length of my meat were just coaxing pleasure out of my tool, and it was several minutes before he moved his head at all, pulling back to let my dick slide out of him along that silky tongue, and when he did, I looked down, and somehow, without feeling anything in my dick except intense warm pleasure, it had become fully erect, and was throbbing now that it was exposed to the cool air. This was awesome. The stench from his pits was absolutely overwhelming, but I tried to just get used to it. After a while, I couldn't smell it any more. The breeze blew through the place and he masterfully worked my dick over, and before long I felt completely incapable of really thinking at all. My vision became tunnel-like, focused just on my dick and his face. He would bury his face in my pubes and just inhale there, through his nose and then through his mouth, sucking cool air in all around my dick with it still inside him, somehow opening himself up so that he could both breathe and keep my meat stuffed into him as deep as it would go-- quite a feat. He put his arms up on my body and clasped his hands together, as if he were praying intensely, but he was praying to my balls, basically. I held his rough hairy forearms and just told him to keep sucking, keep sucking, keep sucking. And he did. When I got close I would make "easy easy easy" sounds and he would instantly adjust, making sure that I hung as close to the edge as possible without danger of slipping over. "I hope you're not in a hurry," I sighed, half-whining, at one point. "I really want to keep feeling this." He tongued the thrilled nerves in my dickhead a few more times, then picked his head up, and looked me in the eye, and said, "No hurry whatsoever." He put his hands on my chest and looked down at my glistening bone, admired it for a few seconds, and then took it back up again, and I went back to heaven. God knows what it sounded like from the street. I spent half the time with my head tipped back and my arms splayed at my sides, oblivious to anything except the pleasure in my genitals, so for all I know a gaggle of school kids had massed at the door, curious about what all the moaning and whimpering was about, and watched the show. But I just kept encouraging him to do what he was doing-- it was so beautiful. And then there was the distinctive sound, from the back of the loft, of a doorknob jiggling. It woke me up a bit, and him too; I looked down at his face and his eyes were turned to the side, examining the back door with something like alarm, but being an insanely good cocksucker, he never let up on what he was doing to my meat. He sucked away at me, vigilantly looking to see if we were going to be intruded upon. He'd told me in the beginning that everyone else who shared the space was away, and there was nothing to worry about. But he watched and sucked, and maybe the snap in attention made me suddenly more sensitive, because I was saying, "I am so close, easy, I am so fucking close, you could make me cum just like that, easy, just please let me feel it, please don't make me cum yet, please." I was reduced to a begging, whining ball of goo. He lightened up a little, and I just hung over the precipice of orgasm, head swimming in a cocktail of hormones and pulsing blood, but he was working me just a lit-tle too well, it was a lit-tle too good, and with every brush of his tongue against my dickhead's hotspot he nudged me that much closer to the edge, and I said, "You could make me cum JUST LIKE THAT," and he didn't change his pace at all. I could have sat there all day with his head in my lap, honestly. But he was going to make me cum, it's clearly what he wanted. So I let him. He did one final swipe of his tongue and I was lost. My dick swelled up hard, my dickhead felt like it was filling his whole mouth, ridge of my glans flaring angrily with the need to shoot, and then I was pulsing into him, a red-hot beeline from my nuts through my ducts out my dickhole and into his mouth. Every time I squirted he sucked, every time my dick strained to shoot he relaxed, when my dick relaxed he sucked, and I thought I was going to cum all my insides out into him. My head practically popped. I came and came and came. When I was done he slowly let me slide out of his mouth, and picked up a towel and spat my funk into it. I grabbed my dick and jacked it, wanting to keep the feeling of orgasm in me somehow. He moved close, to see if any more cum would well up in my dickhole, and some dick, and he pushed my hand away and sucked me down again, sucked too hard, my whole body jerked, the pleasure was unbearable, and I said so. Immediately he stopped sucking and just let my dick melt into his tongue again. Beautiful. He kept me there for a good while, trying to suck out little drops. Why he was willing to swallow these but not the bulk of my liquid pleasure, I don't know. But finally he let me go, and I had to laugh. "Now do you remember?" he said, full of preening confidence. I just shook my head and kept laughing, then got up and pulled on my shorts. We had another long conversation about how the neighborhood is changing, how a flood of money here is sort of ruining everything, pushing things out before new things have a chance to come in. Who knows what this place will look like in a few years. It was very pleasant just sitting and talking, now that I had shot out all my cum. He really had a very handsome face to look at. But finally I knew I had to get back to work. So I thanked him, and he told me he would be in that studio till early September, clearly inviting me back for more service. It was very gracious. But you know me. On to the next ass! More...