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For what felt like an hour, Dale sat on the futon, holding his nephew in a strong, warm embrace. Their naked bodies radiated heat to each other. Dale sampled a healthy portion of his nephew's cum before retrieving clean towels from a nearby shelf. He helped his nephew clean up. "It's late. You should probably have been home some time ago, bud," Dale said. "Yeah. I should get dressed," Brock dressed quickly as his uncle watched. Traces of lust still danced behind his uncle's eyes. After Brock pulled his shirt on, Dale handed him the same card Brock had seen thrown at Zeke in the video. On the back he'd handwritten a phone number. "If the virus takes, you're going to get pretty sick. Call or text me. Seriously," Dale said. It didn't really come across as a request. And then he kissed his nephew on the forehead and walked him back past the heavy black curtain to his office. The disheveled man Brock had seen head back to the booths shortly after he'd arrived was sitting in front of the desk. He looked worse for the wear with some fresh bruises coming through on his face and a split lip oozing dark red blood. One eye was swollen almost completely closed. The cashier sat on the corner of the desk next to the man, looking quite menacing with some fresh abrasions on his knuckles and an ice pack pressed to his jaw. Brock's uncle quickly took stock of the situation. "You'll have to see yourself out, Brock. This demands my immediate attention," Dale said in a suddenly serious, no-nonsense tone. Brock left his uncle and the two other men behind in the office and stepped back out into the store, nearly running into the man from the front row of the basement. He was headed for the door. All the effort of the night finally caught up with Brock and he felt very suddenly weary. He followed after the man, trying not to seem like he was pursuing him. As Brock stepped out of the store into the pitch dark September night, he saw the man getting into a Volvo parked on the curb. There was a single bumper sticker. It read "Park Village Thunder." Brock's heart leaped into his throat as he quickly crossed the parking lot to his own car and got in. He threw his hat on top of his letter jacket. His Park Village High School letter jacket, with the Thunder logo embroidered on the chest. ---------- The next three weeks felt like the longest weeks to ever fly by. Not a single day passed without some thought about that night at the Block. Some days it was a nagging half thought in the back of his mind. Some days he milked four loads from his dick before lunch thinking about everything that happened. On only two occasions had he really reflected on his decision willingly expose himself to HIV. He had concluded that he had no regrets and that if his uncle uncle's viral juices didn't convert him, he would try again after a month. On October 3rd, Brock knew his uncle had been successful. He woke feeling like he'd been hit by a truck. He had a fever and chills, he felt weak and had no appetite. His mom called him out of school before she headed off to work. As soon as Brock was confident she was gone, he texted his uncle "Woke up feeling like hell. Pretty sure you did itheb rnfhshsjfk dhdh h .?" An hour later, Dale was using a credit card to let himself into his nephew's house. He found Brock passed out in his bed. His phone had more gibberish typed into an unsent message. He was sweaty, but sleeping peacefully. Dale took the time to arrange him a bit more comfortably. Then he set about putting together some bland food for when his nephew woke. Then he crawled in bed behind him and held him until he started to stir. Brock would wake, have a bit of the food prepared for him and alternate sleeping and spooning his uncle until about an hour before his mom would get home. This continued for four more days. On day 5 of his conversion, Brock woke with his uncle's arms around him and a wrought iron beam between his legs. He was painfully hard. The virus had woken something slumbering deep within him. Without a word, he maneuvered himself between his uncle's legs and pushed Dale's feet back toward his head. Dale woke from his own dozing to the squelch of his nephew's precum in his hole as Brock was beginning to work his cock in. Dale gave no resistance. In fact, he seemed as though this was exactly what he was waiting for. Brock fucked Dale slowly, weak from his illness and hazy from the steady doses of poppers he and his uncle were using. When Brock was too weak, Dale would trade him places and ride him. Slowly milking his next load. In total, Brock filled his uncle with seven loads over 6 hours. Brock wasn't sure if these were his last negative loads or his first charged ones. They were probably both. All he knew was the little voice from the back of his mind that they must be inside someone. That all of his future loads must be inside someone. As Dale was getting ready to leave, he hugged his nephew and handed him A folded slip of paper. "Meet me here. Next Saturday afternoon," he said. He kissed his nephew once more on the forehead and left.

Part 5 Jake looked up and was completely blown away by what he saw. He opened his mouth several times to say something and then closed it. Mike continued to hold onto Justin while I just watched this little family drama play out. That was hard for me to do because I was more spun than ever. I desperately needed more cock in my hole. But suddenly this wasn’t about me, despite being the paid whore for the evening. “DAD!? What the…..what the actual fuck!?” Justin walked over to the bed and touched his son’s hair, and face. “Yeah, son I’ve known I was into men for a long time. Don’t worry, your Mom knows. She’s got a hall pass to fuck other people too, and she does. We’re both complete sluts. Just not together.” Jake couldn’t get his jaw off the floor. Apparently this was an entire family of sluts. I could see that this would take a while for Jake to process, but Justin kept going. “Turns out that Mike here met your little friend Adam on the apps and couldn’t resist sharing him with me when I came to Chicago. Lucky me that two hot young guys found each other on Grindr and it turned out both of them was a dirty little cumdump.” Jake blushed when his father said this, so Justin got on the bed and leaned down to deeply kiss his son. When he pulled away, Jake said “Oh Dad. As many times as I jerked off thinking about Uncle Mike, I jerked off way more thinking about you. Just seeing you by a pool in a speedo, proud of your cock and your thick hairy body. I loved how women and men would both look at you and want you. I would just think ‘that’s my Dad, he’s so fucking hot,’ and then I’d go in the bathroom and furiously beat my cock until I shot a load of cum, wishing I could touch your dick.” “You can touch my dick, son. Right here, right now. It’s yours, any way you want it.” Jake kissed his father again and Mike and I watched them make out for a minute or two until they came up for air. Jake also reached over and wrapped his hand around his Dad’s cock, moaning as he did so. “It’s so fucking thick.” Jake’s cock was rock hard. I desperately wanted it in my hole, but I didn’t want to break the mood. Finally father and son broke their make out session and Justin said “I want you to fuck me, son. Hard. I want you to rape me and breed me.” Jake’s face lit up and he said “FUCK yeah, Dad! But only on one condition. That you fuck me just as hard right after. I’ve wanted your cock since I knew what cocks were for, and I can’t wait to have it in my ass.” I couldn’t wait to see the show, so I scooted over and took Mike’s fat uncut cock in my mouth again, to get It hard so he could fuck me again. Jake and Justin continued to make out while I blew Mike and he occasionally leaned over to give one of them another shotgun from the bong or join in their daddy/son kiss. After a couple minutes, he said “OK, Adam, time for another breeding. I’m not gonna waste this next load in your mouth. It needs to be in your boy cunt.” I looked up at Mike and grinned. “Yes, sir!” Then I looked over at Jake and said “when you’re done fucking your Dad, will you fuck your little bro too?” Jake laughed and got a big smile on his face. “Fuck yeah, dude. I can cum a bunch of times! When Dad’s fucking my cunt, I’ll fuck yours, and Mike can be the director.” We all laughed, and I turned around and wiggled my furry ass at Mike. He slowly pulled the buttplug out of my ass, handing me the plug to lick off the his and his brother’s cum stuck to it, then I sat on Mike’s fat cock, sliding it all the way up my cunt. I could feel the burn again so I knew he’d given me another booty bump under his foreskin, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was cock and cum. I felt like a completely depraved whore. Because I was one. I laid down on his furry chest and kissed him hard while he slowly pumped his cock in and out of my hole. I had my eyes closed, but he tapped me, and nudged me to look at Justin and Jake. Mike pulled me down onto his chest with his throbbing cock all the way up my ass while we watched the main event. They were in a trance, completely ignoring us, only focused on each other. Justin laid on his back and Jake slipped another shard under his foreskin, then squirted some lube on his massive cock, lifted his Dad’s hairy legs over his shoulders, and quickly slid his cock all the way home inside Justin’s hole. Justin gasped and winced a bit. Even with the T he was feeling the quick entry of the cock into his hole. Both of them were non-stop moaning and Jake whispered “fuck, Dad, that feels so fucking amazing. I love you so much! I’ve dreamed about doing this since I could get my dick hard.” Justin grabbed onto the back of Jake’s neck and kissed him long and deep. When they finally came up for air, he said “OK, now. Prove to me you’re a man. Fuck your dad like the dirty tweaked out cumdump faggot whore he is.” Then Justin slapped Jake across the face, and Jake immediately returned the favor and spit in Justin’s face. “You want me to fuck you, Fag Daddy? Is that what you want? You sure you can handle my big fat jock boy cock. I mean, you did make it after all.” Justin spat right back in Jake’s face and said “rape my fucking cunt. Tear it up and dump your thick load in my hole. Turn me into a nasty gaping pig.” Jake grinned and said “With pleasure old man. I’m gonna breed you with so many loads of my jizz you’re gonna have it coming out of your fucking nose.” Then he spit on Justin’s face again. Justin laughed and said, “bring it on son. I’ve never been so turned on in my entire life. I want you to keep fucking me until we can’t move.” Jake started in on Justin’s hole with his cock that easily matched Justin’s for length and girth. Both of them had foreskins that still covered part of the head when they were fully hard and Jake’s cock looked incredibly hot pounding Justin’s hole over and over again while they made out, completely ignoring us, even though we were just two feet away on the bed, with Mike’s fat piece still shoved all the way up my ass, slowly humping me while we watched the live incest porn going on right next to us. Mike grabbed my chin and pulled me down, kissing me hard. He whispered “you did good, kid. Now you deserve a reward. Let me pound that big furry boy cunt of yours and give you your third load of the evening.” I just moaned and said “fuck yeah, daddy! Give me your cock. My hole is so fucking hungry right now.” All four of us continued to pound away, completely oblivious of anything else in the world. I was riding Mike’s cock when I happened to glance around the room and notice a slip of paper slid under the door. I ignored it, thinking it was some hotel bullshit. Little did I know it was the next step in our adventure.

Chapter 2 Who's Who: - Caleb: main character, 18 y/o senior at St. Denis High School with a strong interest in messaging strangers on sex apps. - Mr. Sanchez: teacher who caught Caleb jacking off in the school bathroom during class while cruising sex apps; threatened to turn Caleb in to the principal if Caleb didn't satisfy Mr. Sanchez's big dick. * * * As Mr. Sanchez's office door closed behind him, Caleb's thoughts ricocheted about. He wondered nervously whether he had done enough to keep Mr. Sanchez from making a report to Principal Lenox. With a curious mix of excitement and anxiousness, he wondered what Mr. Sanchez planned to do later at their lunch-time meeting. Moreover, what is it that Mr. Sanchez had been sending and to whom on Caleb's cell? Snatching his focus from these thoughts, however, was the slickness of the cum lubing Caleb's ass cheeks as he walked down the hallway. Caleb's cock swelled inside his pants as he dwelled on this feeling, which was wholly new and entirely pleasant to him. Caleb walked himself back to first-period calculus — the same class he had left earlier to go masturbate in the boy's bathroom. Was it still first period, though? Without his phone he couldn't check the time, and for the life of him, he couldn't remember if he had heard the bell or not while Mr. Sanchez had been pounding that big, raw dick into his teen butthole. Whatever the case, Caleb needed to retrieve his backpack. He swallowed his nerves as he pulled open the door to Mr. Jacobs' room. The familiar eyes of his fellow classmates were on Caleb as he walked into the silent room. It was, indeed, still first period. The books and papers on everyone's desk indicated quiet time for assignment work. In a hushed tone, Mr. Jacobs gently called Caleb over. "Everything okay, Caleb?" "Yes, Mr. Jacobs." "You were gone for quite a while. I was just about to send someone to check on you." "I'm fine." Caleb declined to preempt Mr. Jacobs' curiosity as he hurriedly considered the implications of various explanations. By not giving Caleb an excuse note, Mr. Sanchez had put Caleb in an awkward position. How was he to justify the mid-class detour to let Mr. Sanchez please himself inside Caleb's lower intestines? Brow furrowed, Mr. Jacobs searched Caleb's face for information that words had not furnished. "Is there a reason you were gone for most of class, then?" "Mr. Sanchez asked me to his office." "He gave you a pass, yes?" Caleb fidgeted in the face of Mr. Jacobs' insistence. "No, I think he forgot." Eyebrow raised, Mr. Jacobs replied, "Mr. Sanchez is not one to forget. If he let you back without a pass, that tends to be for one reason only." Caleb, unaccustomed to having to justify his actions, felt butterflies in his stomach -- a strangely complimentary accompaniment to the soreness in his rear. Mr. Jacobs opened his desk drawer and pulled out his cell. After a few taps and swipes, he set his cell on the desk, screen down, and looked back up at his nervous student. "I'm going to need you to stay after class, Caleb. Head back to your seat." Caleb made his way to the back of the class, moving through the curious glares of his classmates. He surmised their silent efforts to reconcile his behavior that morning with his always-follows-the-rules reputation. Mr. Jacobs' statement about the reason for the missing pass bounced around inside Caleb's skull, but he could not bring himself to believe that Mr. Jacobs could possibly know what precisely had transpired in Mr. Sanchez's office. Could such extraordinary events be guessed with so little context? The most forceful doubt that kept the thought turning in Caleb's mind was the fact that Mr. Jacobs had conferred with his cell phone. Why would he want to check his personal device instead of any of the official communication channels internal to their school intranet? As Caleb took his seat, the pressure of the chair against his ass made for a fresh reminder of how his hole had been made to satisfy Mr. Sanchez's substantial manhood. Caleb found the feeling both discomforting and satisfying. He wondered how Mr. Sanchez's DNA was fairing inside his freshly fucked rectum. Caleb's hardening cock began to push his pants upward into the underside of his desk. The rustle of his classmates' belongings signaled the impending bell tone, which followed on cue. The class emptied of all but Caleb and Mr. Jacobs. Unable to hide his erection, Caleb remained at his seat, hoping his post-class conversation with Mr. Jacobs would not force his erection into view. "Caleb, you can come on up here, please." Caleb stood up and moved to the front of the room. Mr. Jacobs walked over to the classroom door, and as he was locking it, with his back still to Caleb, said dryly, "Nice erection." Caleb's eyes widened in embarrassment. Mr. Jacobs turned to face his silent student. "You know you should be more careful letting a grown man like Mr. Sanchez inseminate you without protection, my dear boy. You're just asking for HIV." Caleb's stomach flipped. Any doubt that he had about what Mr. Jacobs knew evaporated. The mention of HIV added a more ominous dimension to the trouble that Caleb already knew himself to be in. What else did his math teacher possibly know? "Take your clothes off, and get up on my desk. Lie on your back and hold your legs all the way back for me. I have to make this quick." Caleb's heart felt as though it wanted to leap out of his rib cage. He complied with the old man's instructions, adjusting to the coldness of the desk against his naked back. "Mr. Sanchez load you up good?" The crude directness was surprising coming from the mouth of the otherwise straight-laced Mr. Jacobs. Of course, neither would Caleb have imagined presenting his freshly bred hole to a gray-haired, balding, gaunt old man like Mr. Jacobs either. Caleb watched between his lifted legs as his calculus teacher fumbled his thin, long cock out of his unzipped fly. "You going to answer my question, slut, or are you looking to fail this quiz?" Without waiting for a response, Mr. Jacobs plunged his index finger deep into Caleb's hole, stirring the fresh cum inside, then pulled it out, and promptly shoved it right into Caleb's mouth. "Go ahead and suck Mr. Sanchez's baby batter off my finger, slut." Caleb sucked on his calculus teacher's cum-drenched digit eagerly, savoring the unique saltiness of Mr. Sanchez's load. Mr. Jacobs withdrew his finger from Caleb's mouth and quickly gripped his surprisingly bright-pink dick, plunging it right into Caleb's cum-lubed hole without warning. Caleb let out a surprised, "Unh!", as Mr. Jacobs muttered, "Oh fuck!" Mr. Jacobs' abrupt bottoming out inside the teen's anal cavity left a pained look on Caleb's face. "Grip my cock as tightly as you can with your ass muscles, Caleb. Mr. Sanchez will absolutely destroy you if you let his load leak out before lunch." Caleb squeezed his ass muscles tightly around his math teacher's long, bare dick as it continued to press painfully against Caleb's second hole. Mr. Jacobs looked fixated at the place where the base of his cock came into contact with the teen's fuckhole. "You ever take grandpa cock bare before, Caleb?" Mr. Jacobs slowly started moving his dick back and forth inside Caleb's cum-filled ass. "No, Mr. Jacobs." Caleb savored the feeling of having a second raw cock forcing its way into his already used fuckchute. "Well, maybe I should change your homework assignment and have you bring a bottle of dick pills to the assisted living facilities around here to do some community servicing. It would look great on your college applications, for one thing. And I bet you could easily get a dozen loads in your juicy ass before school if you started early enough." Caleb moaned and then replied, "Yes, Mr. Jacobs." He felt the old man's cockhead poking painfully at his second hole. "You are every bit the nasty slut Mr. Sanchez said you were." Mr. Jacobs picked up the pace of his fucking. "Ow, ow!" Caleb exclaimed softly, trying not to offend Mr. Jacobs but unable to ignore the pain he was feeling. "You want me to slow down, Caleb?" Caleb nodded, wincing. Mr. Jacobs looked directly into Caleb's pained eyes and began slamming his cock harder and harder into the boy's hole, pummeling the teen's tightly closed second hole over and over with his snake-like dick. "Ah, fuck!" Caleb inhaled sharply, still not realizing that his effort to grip Mr. Jacob's cock tightly with his anal opening was also keeping his second hole from relaxing against the assault it was enduring. "I'm going to make you into my little first period pussyboy, Caleb. Would you like that, slut? You want to be your teacher's little pussyboy?" Mr. Jacobs pounded the teen's fuckchute even faster. With a pained voice, Caleb managed to say, "Yes,... sir… aah…." "You come into my classroom smelling freshly fucked and full of cum again, and you can expect exactly the same treatment, you understand, slut?" "Unh! Yes, sir…." In spite of his efforts, some cum managed to leak from Caleb's hole down his ass crack and pooled on Mr. Jacobs desk. Mr. Jacobs' thrusts reached their peak as he continued slamming Mr. Sanchez's load deeper into Caleb's guts. "Here comes my load, pussyboy!" Mr. Jacobs grunted loudly as he began coating the teen's insides with his thick grandpa load, adding to Mr. Sanchez's frothed up cum. Caleb did his best to keep gripping Mr. Jacob's spindly, raw cock as tightly as he could. "Keep gripping my dick like that, Caleb. I want you to milk every last drop of cum into your pussy." "Yes, Mr. Jacobs." Caleb watched through his legs as the old man's thrusting slowed and came to a rest. Caleb continued gripping his ass muscles as Mr. Jacobs began his slow, methodical withdraw. "Careful not to spill, boy. You gotta keep all that cum in you through lunch, remember." "Yes, sir," Caleb replied dutifully, the pain in his voice having been replaced by relief. "Good boy. Now show me your hole." Caleb tilted his pelvis upward and pulled back on his spread legs even more. Mr. Jacobs picked up his cell and snapped some closeups of Caleb's pink, cum-glistening hole. The gray-haired calculus teacher then took a few steps back, pressed something on the screen, and staring into his phone, asked Caleb, "How many loads you got in you, boy?" "Two, sir." "Good boy. You going to be my personal pussyboy from now on?" "Yes, sir." "Now tell all the horny old men watching this that you love raw senior citizen cock." Caleb hesitated. "Say, 'I love raw grandpa cock in my teen pussy.'" "I love raw grandpa cock in my teen pussy." "Now get your creamy boypussy to class, slut. You're going to be late." * * *

My first ever story. Hope it's not terrible! Enjoy x This place didn’t smell very good, and yet the smell made me even hornier. I needed this. I had been jerking to gay porn for months, although my girlfriend had no idea. I even bought her a new dildo which I had become far more familiar with than she had. I just had to at least have a guy blow me. Maybe I’d even blow him. Those cocks in the porn I watched looked so damn enticing. Surely a blow job would satisfy me, and I could move on from this phase. Today the urge had gotten too much. I was sliding the gifted dildo in and out of my hole when the brain in my dick had taken over and driven me to the sauna in town. Of course, I knew about this place. I fantasised about coming here often but never planned on it. Now I was here and naked in the semi dark. The occasional hand groped my ass as I walked around. I stumbled upon some booths and decided to collect my thoughts in relative safety. There were no screens as I had expected but there was two well sized glory holes in the walls. There was cum running down the one in front of me and it made me hard. An eye appeared above the cum and then a finger. I knew the signal, so I took a deep breath and slid my cock through. Holy hell this had to be the best cock sucker in the world. My girlfriend needed lessons from this guy. I really wasn’t going to last long but before I could shoot my load he stopped. So close. I pulled my cock out of the hole to take a look through when his own cock slid through to my side. I guess that was only fair and it wasn’t a huge scary thing it was about 6 inches. Same as my own. I knelt down and licked at the head before sucking it in as deep as I could. It tasted kind of weird, a mix of cum and other things as far as I could tell, and it was intoxicating. I sucked and licked for all I was worth. This wasn’t a phase. I needed this. Far too soon the cock pulled away. My unknown friend told me to place my ass against the hole. His voice was rough, and I felt like I had to obey. I was way too horny anyway and happily obliged, unsure though if I really wanted anyone to fuck me. I needn’t have worried as he slid his tongue between my cheeks causing me to involuntarily moan like a bitch. I pushed my ass against the hole as hard as I could to get more of these sensations. I guess someone had heard me moaning and joined the opposite booth and whilst moaning I suddenly had another cock in my face from the other side. I didn’t even hesitate and started to suck this new guy who was a little bigger. My attention was alternating between the tongue in my ass and the cock in my mouth and I was feeling totally out of control to my urges. The guy eating my hole starting inserting fingers, first one then some more licking, then two and more eating. I knew what he was doing but it felt so good I couldn’t stop myself even had I wanted to. Soon enough something bigger than some fingers was pushing its way into my now open hole. This was many times better than my dildo and I moaned around the cock in my mouth. The guy fucking me wasted no more time easing me into it and started to fuck me hard. The force was pushing me onto the other cock and for a slight second, I wished my girlfriend could see me right now. Almost totally lost in the moment my brain kicked me back to reality and the madness of letting some random guy fuck me without a condom. What the hell was I doing? My panic threatened to pull me out of the situation and off the bare cock in my ass but timing is everything and the cock in my mouth exploded. I was forced to swallow my first ever load and the distraction was just enough time for the guy behind me to slam home and hold his cock buried in me. Oh fuck. I wasn’t sure I could feel anything, but I knew he had just blasted a huge load of cum in my ass. I was conflicted, hornier than ever and scared like I’ve never been. I had cum in my mouth and in my ass, but my dick was harder than ever. The guy I sucked left his booth and the guy that just fucked me spun around and put his own ass against the hole. It had clearly already seen some action and there was a small biohazard tattoo on his left ass cheek. The internal fight raged but I surrendered and pushed my bare cock into the cummy hole. I needed this.

3 years after... The wasp continue his quest... (for now, it's all true) After a long trip in a foreign country... Eddy came back and contact me... to continue the work we started 3 years ago... We chatted on WhatsApp, exchanging arousing messages, pictures, vocal messages, fantasy and needs. He told me that during the 3 years, he never stopped to think about what we started and like acid on metal... my need to lay my eggs inside his corrode his mental and worked to make him go further in the journey. We met in Bruxelles to eat and drink... and talk. I took a viagra just in case... and as long as we talked about how he'd want to be transform... how far he wants to go... my dick was leaking as much that it pass through my jeans... My dick was literally drooling like a Komodo who biting his prey. He wants my progeny inside him... incubating it, feed it with his body, make it grow and let my progeny inside of his taking the control of his mind to become a predator... and spread it. So, we went to his place, he took his poppers.... and siffed 4, 2 and 5 for the last breath... making me know that his getting closer to reach the goal... He let me go inside of him but he was on Prep... 😞 He wasn't ready yet as he said to cross the line, to jump in the abyss. We fucked, he felt my PA dick inside of him, he dremt about it for a long time. He was so excited that he came without touching his dick. After he came, his ass twitched and got so tight that makes me come very quick. After all, he licked my poz tattoo. It was a short fuck.... not long as i like... but leading to longer fuck anbd more prolific results. I did not pozzed his that night but i know that he begged to get some evils inside of him... begging them to push him more deep in... and more close to the abyss.

In the toilet of a STD clinic

Went to Flex Cleveland on Saturday and bred 2 really nice cumdumps. The first one I deposited load number 5 in. I knew bc he had a marker and tally marks. That was a really hot experience, getting to leave your deposit number on a cumdumps ass cheek. The other load went in a cumdump in what they call the asylum, I was breeding a face down ass up pig and his friend walked over and got his ass in the air and stood right beside him, I wanted to try his ass as he was watching me breed his friend. I switched to the other guy and came in about 30 seconds, His ass was so sloppy I could feel what only could be described as pure heaven. I swear this pig had a dozen or more loads in him, He was soo loose I didn't know if he even felt much. He had so much cum in him, I felt it drip on my leg. It was fucking hot as hell. I was really disappointed I was having some performance as I was going on little to no sleep and worked a full 12 hour day before driving 2 hours to Cleveland. Next time I will have to take a nap before I go. That was kind of embarrassing but shit happens when you're a working man (60 hours a week) and still trying to have a active sex live.

Was trolling the apps late one night and some young kid (18+ back from college) was all horned up at his folks place but needed "to fuck a cumdump -bad". I replied where? He sent a google pin to an apartment complex centralized mailbox (you know the kind that have rows and rows of boxes in one or two large stand alone structures. I asked if he was for real and he said he and his friends fucked there all the time when they were younger. I drove over and walked up to the area. He was naked, and jerking a substantial cock. I dropped my shorts and bent over. My hole had a couple loads in it already and his eyes lit up when he slid in his finger. He fucked me hard and furious for about 10 minutes and then flooded my gut with what had to be a week worth of load. He fingered my cummy hole after pulling out and asked if I wanted another. I said hell yeah, so he grabbed his phone and texted his neighbor who was fucking me within 5 minutes. Two loads at the mailboxes out in the open. Was fun, but odd.

An authors prequill! Hey everyone, welcome back! Welcome to any new readers also! First those who are new to my stories, I suggest you read through my last one here in the fiction section entitled Spreading my Toxic Seed. For those who have followed that story, this takes up where it left off! I've written a few chapters, and having FUN with it. Trying something in a story I've never seen done in a story here before! It fits in with a part of the storyline quite well I believe. With that said, this story is TOTALLY fictional. This includes the name of a fictional website it will mention. A search did not show it to be an actual named website, so feeling OK with its use. The first chapter will be coming soon! Get your cim rags and lube ready!

Hey everyone. After more than a year I'm finally back at writing these stories. I started this last part over so many times without ever being satisfied with it that I eventually stopped trying and focused on other projects and didn't think about it all that much. I had a sudden surge of inspiration a few days ago and finally wrote it to completion. I've also started working on a spiritual sequel to it with a new victim/slave, also still featuring the characters of Rick and Tom, but I will slightly retcon a few things about them to fit the new ideas I want to play with better. So stay tuned for more, I'll try my best to not take a whole year to finish it this time, lol. It's shaping up to be quite a long story and I will start posting it, in a new thread, once I'm done with the second chapter. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this epilogue to Tom's story: --------------------------------------------------------------- Part Seven - The Slave Formerly Known as Tom’s Last Entry It’s been over a year now since I’ve become a willing chem slave for my Daddy. At this point, I have completely forgotten what my life used to be before I moved into his house and discovered the wonders of gay sex, drugs, slavery, rubber, and so many wonderful kinks and perversions shown to me by my master and lover. For the past year, every moment of my life has been under the influence of some substance given to me by my Daddy. Sometimes I know what it is, but most of the time I have no idea. This constant state of euphoria and drug-induced haze has left me struggling a lot to form coherent thoughts and remembering anything with clarity has become very difficult. That’s why I asked Daddy if I could write down my thoughts one last time before I’m unable to anymore. I can feel my mind going away, replaced by this instinct-driven sex animal that Daddy has been shaping me up to be. I don’t regret my choice of becoming his complete slave, not one moment. But the price I have to pay for this blissful and exciting existence is my own mind. I sold my soul to the devil, so to speak, but I would do it all over again If given the chance. So, one last time, let me tell you about my life for the past year, and for what will likely be the rest of it. Shortly following my conversion into a poz slave, Daddy took me to a tattoo parlour to get my first ink of many. I now am adorned by several hot tattoos all over my body, starting with a sizable biohazard symbol surrounding my ass hole, like a target warning potential tops that only poz loads are allowed in. I also have a few dozen little spermatozoids tattooed all over my thighs, all seemingly swimming to reach my hole. Each sperm has a little biohazard symbol on it as well. These were my first tattoos, which were followed by several others, some more degrading than others. For instance, I proudly have the words « TOILET », « PISS SLAVE », « WHORE », and « POZ SLUT » displayed on my chest and on my back. The only problem with these is that they’re not often visible due to the several rubber suits I constantly have to wear, unless I’m wearing clear, transparent rubber. Every morning I wake up in my rubber cell in the basement, on my rubber bed, in one of the rubber suits I have to wear continuously. Sometimes I wear the same one for several days, sometimes I wake up in a fresh one. Sometimes it’s a plain black suit without any features, sometimes It’s a clear transparent one that makes me look like some weird medical experiment. I also get to wear various, more elaborate ones with biohazard symbols on them, clearly indicating my status for anyone to see. Sometimes there are words like « piss », « fist », or « chem », chosen by Daddy to let me know what we will be focusing on that day, or just because he likes it. These rubber suits have become my second skin, I couldn’t imagine being without them on, tightly hugging my body and paradoxically enhancing and numbing every sensation all at once. Since I have worn a hood for the entirety of the past year, I have pretty much forgotten what I look like at this point. This is the true new me; a featureless, anonymous gimp whose sole purpose and identity is to be a sex servant to my demanding master. After waking up, I always have a fresh pipe full of Tina next to me that I have to smoke right away. Daddy wants me high all the time from the moment I wake up until he lets me go to bed, so I have no time to lose and light it up. I usually do a half dozen hits before putting it down. Naturally, the high makes me unbelievably horny, so I grab one of the butt plugs made available to me and shove it down my already lubed ass to calm me down. From then on I have to wait for my Daddy to come and let me out or take care of me. The first thing I have to do when greeting my master is to serve him as a urinal. By the time he enters my room I’m always ungodly high and horny so I gladly get on my knees with my mouth wide open. Daddy then sticks his massive semi-erect cock in my mouth, I wrap my lips around it to create a tight seal while he opens the floodgates and gives me my morning drink. I pride myself to never waste a single drop. Once he is done pissing I usually suck his cock to completion and swallow his first big load of the day, or he finishes in my ass, depending on his mood. A few weeks into our relationship, if I can call it that way, Daddy decided that I was to wear a chastity cage at all times. Not that I really needed it, since being on Tina 24/7 made me limp all the time and rendered my dick pretty much useless, but he likes the look of it and the added feeling of control and domination it gave him over me. I have to admit, I enjoy being his little bitch so much that wearing this is very hot and satisfying in itself. The only time I get to take it off is when I am put into the brainwashing machine, which happens at least once a week, usually twice or thrice. When I’m in there, my dick gets forcefully milked by the machine, no matter how limp the T makes me, and it’s the only time I get to cum with my cock. In any other case, all my orgasms are anal, administered to me by my precious Daddy, or one of his friends and numerous guests. The brainwashing machine is probably the greatest thing ever invented in the history of sex. I absolutely love spending time in there, at the mercy of my Daddy’s twisted imagination and sexual landscape. That thing made me discover and love so many things I could never have imagined before. It turned me into a complete sex addicted twisted pervert just like him, maybe even more. On numerous occasions, I have to go through a psychedelics-induced journey into my own mind, guided by my Daddy and his perverse scenarios. These voyages made me discover so many things about myself that I would never have been able to otherwise. At some point, I was introduced to dog play. The virtual world created by Daddy showed me an endless stream of immersive videos of men dressed as rubber dogs, acting as if they were dogs, playing like puppies with each other, fighting, running around, sniffing their asses, then sucking each others cock, then mating or being relentlessly bred by their rubber handlers and masters. The next morning, I was very excited to wake up in my bed, dressed up in a rubber dog suit, with an elaborate puppy hood. When Daddy came to see me, I was already acting like a dog without him having to tell me to do it. I simply got on all fours, acting excited just like a dog seeing his master for the first time in a while, running up to him in a playful manner. Daddy rewarded me with his bone to suck on, then fed me more T while removing the plug tail stuck in my ass to fuck and breed me like a good boy. On several occasions, Daddy forced me into the dog persona for several days and used me like I was his actual dog. I got to sleep in his room, all curled up on the floor next to his bed, or sometimes in a cage. He takes me outside, on a leash, to take walks in his private yard. I also remember being taken to a public event, I think it was called Folsom, where he got me way higher and fucked up than usual and paraded me in front of everyone, on the streets, in the middle of the day. That day, I had to suck countless cocks, swallow so much cum it got me nauseous, and I got almost as many loads in my ass from all the willing tops present. My memories of this event are quite blurry, but I cherish them fondly nonetheless. Group sex is a regular occurrence in my life with Daddy. I love being the centre of attention in these parties, used as a sex object by dozens of poz men who need their balls emptied into a tight, fucked up hole. I’ve spent countless hours tied up to a bench or a sling, in full rubber most of the time but also naked on rare occasions, plowed relentlessly by legions of big, poz cocks. I think these are my favourite moments in my slave life, as I get to be fed massive amounts of sperm in my ass and mouth, by most of all a never-ending procession of slams injected into my veins. My life with Daddy is a perfect life for me, far better than what I could possibly imagine prior to meeting him and discovering the wonders of extreme gay sex. My only wish is that I’ll get to live this way for many more years, always being used, fucked up and abused according to my Daddy’s wishes. He told me recently that he gave me so much drugs already that my brain will surely be too fried at some point and I won’t be able to experience pleasure anymore. I don’t know if that’s true, and I don’t feel like it is (at least yet), but it will have been 100% worth it if that’s the case. I wouldn’t trade places with anyone else. Returning to my old, plain, regular and boring former life is impossible now, but even if it was, I wouldn’t want it. I’m so grateful to my Daddy for having shown me the way to truly enjoy life and I look forward to spending the rest of my days being his loyal, devoted slave. One last thing before I log out for good. In the past few weeks, Daddy has been talking about finding a new slave to corrupt and convert. This lucky boy would join me and expand our little family. I’m very excited about that and look forward to meeting this new playmate. I have no idea what Daddy has in mind for him, but I’m eager to find out. I’m sure we will have lots of fun losing our minds and freedom together. I hope you enjoyed reading my story, this is probably the last time I write anything down ever again. At the moment I am in my rubber cell, typing on this laptop my Daddy brought me so I could write. Once I’m done, I’ll just close the lid, smoke the massive bowl of T left for me and wait for my master to come use me. I know I won’t have to wait very long, as he is always watching over me, like the loving Daddy that he is.

I think I must have been in the sling for a good couple of hours, but eventually everyone in attendance seemed to be worn out and the evening came to an end. I was absolutely knackered, quite sore, but oh so satisfied. After a plug was pushed into me to allow the loads in there to really simmer, I was hauled out of the sling so I could share one last nightcap with a few of the men who hung around, before I limped off back up to the bedroom. I took a quick shower, making sure to keep the plug in place, and then collapsed into bed and pretty much passed out. The next morning I was woken by sunlight coming in through the rather thin curtain on the window, and I lay there for a while as I processed the previous day. I had taken so, so many loads, all of them poz, and I knew there was now a pretty good chance I was infected and just waiting to seroconvert. However, I knew I had more in store as I was here for the whole weekend, something that made me quite excited despite the ache in my rear end. The plug was still in place, and I decided to just leave it there if I could take it. I eventually roused myself, got dressed in a T-shirt, hoodie, tracksuit bottoms and trainers I had brought with me, and headed out into the kitchen to see whether there was any means of getting a coffee. There was a jar of rather stale looking instant granules that did not appeal, so I headed downstairs to see what was what. There was no sign of Peter or any of the other guys, and so I went back upstairs and grabbed my cap and car keys. I then headed back down and out to my car, jamming a bit of card in the door mechanism to stop myself getting locked out of the warehouse. I had to get in the car carefully to avoid doing myself an injury from the plug inserted in my rear, and then drove off towards the retail park I had seen on my way in yesterday. I was glad to find a drive-thru coffee shop so I wouldn’t have to negotiate getting in and out of the car, despite the sordid appeal of standing in front of a barista while dozens of plugged-in toxic loads stewed inside me. Coffee and a couple of pastries bought, I pulled over in the car park and had a moment of quiet while I enjoyed my breakfast. For the first time since the previous day I thought to check my phone, but was not surprised to see no messages from my sons who were no doubt busy with the socialising that comes from the start of a uni year. After browsing social media for a bit, and smoking a couple of cigarettes, I decided I was done. I headed back to the warehouse, where I noticed a utility truck in the forecourt that had not been there before. I parked up and headed back inside, the door now propped open with a bar indicating there was definitely someone inside. “Hello?” I called as I came back in. “Ah, you’re back” said Peter, coming out of his office. “I thought you might have done a runner.” “No chance” I said, smiling. “I just needed a strong coffee and something to eat.” “Fair enough” he replied. “You still plugged?” “Oh yes” I said. “Bet you’re sore” he said, chuckling. “Fuck yeah” I replied, laughing too, “but still ready for whatever’s coming next.” “Glad to hear it” Peter said. “As it happens, a couple of club regulars who couldn’t make it last night are in there waiting for you.” I gulped, and then looked towards the door into the main room. I guess I hadn’t reckoned on this second day of fun starting so soon. “In you go” Peter said, gesturing towards the door. “They’re both on the clock and need to get back.” I hesitated for a moment longer, and then headed into the main room. Sure enough, there were were two large men in work overalls standing around, both midway through a cigarette. “Oy oy” said one of them, as I came in. “Are you our cumdump?” “I am” I said, a little nervously. “Good lad” he replied. “How about you get those clothes off and bend over this drum?” He gestured towards an old oil drum that had a bit of cloth on the top, which I guess would make it more pleasant to lean against. I paused a moment, then walked over to it. I stripped out of my T-shirt and hoodie, then pulled my trousers down over my shoes so that I was not barefoot. That left me standing there wearing only a pair of Reebok Classics and a large buttplug. I then bent over the drum, looking away from the two men. A hand touched my buttocks, and immediately moved to the plug. I felt it wiggle a couple of times, before the painful sensation of it being pulled from me. My anal muscles eventually gave way and it popped out, and I felt some of the cummy contents of my colon hit my leg as they escaped. Without any further ado, whichever of the two men it was put his cock at my hole and pushed in, filling me to the hilt in one thrust. He then started hammering into me, which was painful but also so good. He fucked without much of a word, just using me as a sheath for his cock, until he got close to climax at which point he started yelling about his toxic cum. A moment later he filled me up with that cum, starting off my second day of posing. He pulled out and his mate immediately replaced him, jackhammering even faster until he blew his load in me without a word. I was truly just a cumdump to them, without any of the camaraderie that there had been the night before. I liked it. I remained bent over while the two of them got their clothes on and left, saying nothing more to me. I was about to stand up straight again when I felt another hand on my buttocks, followed by a cock at my hole. “Would be a shame to leave you with just two loads from this session” said Peter, before he pushed himself into me for the umpteenth time. He was in less of a frantic mood than the other two guys had been, and this turned into quite a length fuck that I really enjoyed despite the ache in my hole. Much like the second guy had been, Peter was quiet throughout, just getting on with giving me a really good seeing to until he blew his load. “There, that should do for now” he said a little breathlessly, as he withdrew from me. “Can’t have you worn out before this afternoon.” “What’s this afternoon” I asked, standing up straight and turning to face him. “We’re going on a picnic” he said, smiling at me. “A picnic?” I asked. “Yep” he said, still smiling. “There’s a place we know that you’re going to love.” His smirk told me all I needed to know. We were heading outdoors, and on the menu there was only one thing: me. Awesome. [to be continued]

My first attempt of writing story so i d be glad to get some tips and suggestions. Part 1: Anonymous straight boy It s 2 am and Vincent is horny. He could not sleep, so he did what he have always done, logging in the local hook up website for some late night bootycall. Vincent is a gay guy in his 20s, asian background with a fit body that he honed regularly at the gym. He has been fucking since he was 16. He was attractive, 1.75m and have an average dick. He usually meet guys on grindr, but occasionally he would go on to local hookup site to find those "straight" boys. It s a habit he got from college, helping many classmates "discover" themselves. He has always been a top and he likes the feeling of convincing the so call "straight" boys to let him slide his dick into their virgin hole. He is not big so it was easy to tell them it won't hurt much. And man those boys were easy to turn. When he got out of college, it was harder to find other curious boys so he turned to the anonymous hookup sites, and he was lucky a few times. These sites mostly have those daddies looking for boys or cumdump sluts begging to be fucked, but on the rare occasion a curious guy would pop in looking to experience some man on man sex. Tonight Vincent is lucky again. He gets a message from blondjock95. blondjock95: "Hey man, wanna try a dick. You are down?" vinceprince: "You wanna get banged? Travel?" blondjock95:"Yeah. Just wanna get fucked. CONDOM ONLY. No kissing and i wont touch your dick otherwise." vinceprince: Bingo. "Fine by me. Send ur pic and I ll send the address." Vince opened the attached pic to see a lean swimmer body, he hope the dude looks good too and not a catfish because he really needs to blow his load tonight. 20 minutes later, he got a text from blondjock95, whose name was Derek, saying he arrived. Vincent open the door and is pleased. The guy was handsome, blond hair with gray eyes and killer smile. They got into the room quickly and Vince got down to business. He stripped them both naked and went down on his knee to give Derek a blowjob. He heard a soft moan as his lips wrapped around the rock hard 20 cm cock. He could taste the salty precum leaking out and the musky smell of Derek's balls. Derek is very well shaven, in contrast to Vincent's thick bush. After a few minutes of sucking, Derek is leaking like a fountain. Vincent looks up, smiles and licks his lips. Derek responds with a weak and shy smile. Vincent turns him around and goes for his as, munching on the virgin hole like a ripe peach. Derek is moaning loudly as Vincent drove his tongue in deep. "Lovely virgin hole. Gonna make you cry tonight and addicted to cock tonight baby"-Vincent thinks to himself. He got up and faces Derek. He places his hands on his shoulders and gestures for Derek to move to the bed. When he gets to the bed, Derek suddenly stops and says: "Hey, is it ok if we try something?" "What is it, stud?" Vincent gave a friendly smile, and was caught by surprised when Derek leans in for a kiss. Derek pulls back after a few seconds, unsure what to do. Vincent still has the surprised look on his face, but then goes in for another kiss. Derek is by far the best kisser Vincent has. but something about the clumsy peck and innocent kiss turn him on. The boys keeps making out as they fall onto the bed. After a while, Vincent breaks the kiss: "Let s get you nice and wet back there." Vincent made Derek sat on his face and drove his tongue deep into Derek hole one more time before he seals the deal. He savours the musky cherry ass when suddenly he felt hot breath near his cock. After a moment, he felt Derek's mouth wrapped around his cock. "Lol, easier than I thought. Not so straight afterall."-Vincent thought. The blowjob is just as mediorce as Derek kissing skill. He does not know how to deepthroat and could not handle half the shaft despite Vincent 12 cm. But again Vincent was hit by another surprise. He felt his cum bubbling up his shaft. "What the hell...?"-he thought. So many guys that were way better cocksuckers than Derek had served him and they needed at least half an hour to even get Vincent close. What is wrong with him tonight? "Hey, that s enough. Let s give you what you came here for." Vincent said as he rolls Derek over and climbs between his legs. He got the condom on and lubed up Derek. He sank into the virgin hole as the blond jock gasp for breath, feeling his cherry getting popped. Vincent size let him easily pass through the sphincter and reached Derek's prostate. "Let's get the party started."-he thought. Then Derek pulled him down for another clumsy kiss, and suddenly his cum is about to spill again. Derek panickingly pulled out and rolled over. "What's wrong?" Derek sounds concerning. "It's... I don't know. I m sorry but I m close. Maybe cuz i havent cummed for the whole day." Derek tried to hold in his cum. "Damn. I wanna try tonight..." Derek sounds dissappointing and Vincent's heart sinks. He is not sure from what but he does not like the feeling. The shame of not be able to perform? The guilt of getting this boy all the way here to let him down? "Well. I came all the way here. Can I fuck you then?" Derek asks "Like hell you would, virgin."-Vincent thinks and is about to say when he catches the puppy eyes. The words did not escape his mouth. Mix of guilt and shame flushes back in and he blurted out: "Ok." And so Derek lubed up Vincent the way he did him before. Vincent was still dumbfounded of what he agreed to and just lie there. Derek gets into missionary and line his dick in front of Vincent's hole. He looks him in the eyes with the innocent look again. Derek has a cold feet. He has not been fucked for years and might as well be a virgin. He only fucks, he does not want to get fucked. He opened his mouth to protest when the tip of Derek's cock pushes in. A deep grunt followed by a high pitch moan escapes Derek. He feels like his breath is knocked out as the cock invaded him. "Fuck, this is why I don't bottom."-Vincent thinks. He feels taken, by a virgin he s suppose to be fucking no less. Like the virgin he is, Derek does not let Vincent adjust and begins to pound away and Vincent could not voice his protest. His breath keeps getting knocked out by each thrust and he could not do anything but lie there and takes the pounding, sobbing while his hole getting stretched. Then Derek leaned in for the kiss and the pain slightly subsided. And so Vincent clings to it. He is like a thirsty man in the desert who s finally given some water and does not want to let go. His hole is on fire and Derek's clumsy kiss is the only thing making it better. It goes on for ten minutes, and Derek just goes harder. Vincent's hole finally get used to it and his prostate was being pounded hard. He is in so much pain and ecstasy that he is in tear and sobbing. And it finally arrives. His cumshot is massive. It sprays all over him and even hit Derek in his chest and face. Vincent just cries in orgasm at this point, involuntarily squeezing his hole, making Derek pump a big load inside. Derek caught his breath after a minute and pulled out. In his exhausted state, Vincent could see it. That look that he had seen so many times from all the "straight's boys" that he popped their cherry. Derek was flooded with shame of what he just did. He pulled out the condom and quickly dressed up. He immediately left Vincent lying there covered in cum with a mere "Thanks, goodbye man." Vincent tried to process. His touched his hole and it was slightly gape and sore. His body is drenched in sweat and cum. He got some on his face too. It mixes with his tears that he shed when he was fucked. Tear of joy? "Fuck, I cried cuz I was fucked." He spoke out loud. He rubbed his eyes carefully to not get the cum in. He needs a shower. A hot shower. To be continued

an old amazon delivery partner and i got drunk one night and i sucked his dick on the swings at a nearby park. then we ran into each other while delivering about a week later, and i had cleaned out before work so i could go to the adult bookstore an had about 3 loads up there and we started flirting a bit and chatting taking a short and he asked if next time he could fuck me and i was like lets go, theres no one around and we got trucks to hide us. so we climbed back there and he fingered me and goes "bro why are you wet? does it work like a girls pussy?" after a 15 laughing period, i told him where i had gone and that it was cum up there and his dick i swear sprung up so fast, the only thing missing the spring sound effect from cartoons. he fucked two loads in me there, and later when we finished work, and were turning in our vans, he fucked me again in his van this time.

Sorry for my English, it's not my mother tounge so i could/would makes mistakes... this story is fiction... for now 😈😈 I plan to realise a part of it eventually... 3 people are willing to follow me. Time will tell... After chattin' with a friend of mine about my sexual deviance, he told me that i turned him on for several reasons. We started to explore his need and i got a big surprise... I was not alone with my twisted mind. He's twisted like me. Chapter 1 My friend, i'll call him Edouard (Eddy), wanted to get pozzed for a long time but he never found someone serious enough to Gift him, until we talked... Wa talked about our fantasy for 2 days on WhatsApp... describing how we'd like to proceed for his pozzing... He took me on some nasty paths that makes me hard as steel. He wants to consider me as a Jewel Wasp and him as my prey... He REALLY wants me to Make him... to Pozz him. He makes me horny like a Hornet who needs to sting his prey... he makes me become a predator, THE kind of predator i adore... EVIL. He said that he wasn't sure he wants to cross the line and he wants me to guide him at MY direction. He feels hypnotized by me, by my POZ dick, by my PA, by my twisted talk. Before working for his pozzing, we made a deal. If he accepts me as his Pozzer, that's gonna be like a sacrifice. He's gonna fuck up his health for MY pleasure and MY pride. There are some conditions he needs to satisfy for me to Reward him! A Wasp Tattoo... Emerald Green and Black (for the Jewel Wasp) it's MY Mark ! (the image at the end of this chapter) A negative blood test results. NO one to fuck him until he convert. Anonymous HIV test... until it comes back POZ and afterwards, regular blood tests to know how high the viral load will climb. when the convertion succeeds, he's gonna have to GIFT... and to get recharged. Stay off meds as long as he can (but i don't want my prey to pass away... ) Recharging me ! He agreed all of these conditions. These conditions are mine to POZ someone. I'm the Boss in MY colony! I want to create new wasps and make it grow!!! He needs me to break his Pandora's Box... to make sure he's not gonna close it anymore. He's feeling hot as Hell... and he invites me to talk in person about this. I travelled to his place and we talked, naked but we did not fuck. I wanted to control his mind like the Jewel Wasp does with its prey... so we talk about how we'd like to get sick, how i'd poz him, how i'd lay my wasp eggs inside his body... how free he'll be to be himself... and he'll be MINE! We jerked off... and we promised to get closer to the moment at our next date... He warned me that he could slow me down... step on the brakes... but i answer that i could not brake and i would push him over the precipice... He did not disagree but I still need time to control his mind completly... The job is not finish... It could take awhile but my reproductive instinct will get the job done sooner or later. When i left his place he said that he wants me to bring him to the Other side... into darkness... He wanted to be fucked by me... only me... and become an Evil to burn other people from the inside when he's pozzed. I promised him to continue to work on his mind to manipulate him, bringing him where i want him... and to sting his body with my dick to make him MINE... to start to build MY colony! He's gonna be a co-predator for the next hunt... but before, i have to finish my work with him... He will be my First Victim, my First Conquest ! I have 3 men now wating to be a part of my Colony... but Eddy will be the First and were gonna work together on the next ones.

Years ago, I was trying to infect someone. He quit having sex with anyone else, and was always hungry to take my loads. After one of his tests, he was called to the doctors office - which means one thing. We celebrated after he was told he had converted. And we went back to his apartment and he fucked his first positive load back into my ass! Richard was a good guy!

Some of you who have read my posts know I have a much younger live-in fuckboy, Drew. You will know I fuck and breed his arse almost every day. I also fuck several of his buddies and he gets regularly fucked by my buddies. Last week I surprised him by offering up my arsehole and mouth to him in any way he wanted. He jumped at the offer and said he’d sort out a session. That happened last night. I was looking forward to it but he wouldn’t tell me what was gunna go down. He put me In our sling - only my second time in it. He got on his knees and started to eat out my ass. I love that and instantly got hard. While he was eating my hole, the doorbell rang. He said that was the other guys who were gunna use my arse. Soon, he led in his buddies Ryan and Dwayne and my buddy, Steve into the room. The were all naked and fully erect. Drew, Ryan and Dwayne all have handsome cocks about 6 to 7 inches but Steve is much bigger with a massive thick shaft and a huge helmet. I begged him not to let Steve fuck me first as I can barely take his cock even after I’ve been opened up. Drew reminded me that I’d offered up my arse any way he wanted. With that he got on his knees and started sucking Steve’s cock, getting it good n wet. After a few minutes he spat on my hole and fingered it into me. He looked at Steve and said “you’re first up” Steve stood between my legs and grunted “you ready buddy?” I just gritted my teeth as he pressed his massive helmet on my hole and forced his shaft deep inside me. He didn’t hold back and pushed hard until his balls were hard on my arse. He started to fuck me - long deep thrusts. It fukkin hurt and I was moaning. After a few minutes Drew said “stop, you’re gunna ruin his arse for the rest of us” Steve pulled out and Ryan shoved his cock in me. That was a relief - Ryan has got a beaut thick cock but I took him ok. He fucked me hard and shot his load in me - it felt good and his sperm soothed my stretched chute. Next, Dwayne was between my legs fucking me hard. I reallly felt him cum - he shoots a big load and he emptied his balls in me. Next Drew was in my hole. He fucked me good - he loved it and grunted “Aww dad, I’m gunna breed you” He shot a good load inside me. Finally big Steve was between my legs. This time, although he’s massive he fully penetrated me quite easily as I was open and relaxed and I had 3 loads lubing my arse. He’s a brute and he pounded my arse hard. He grunted like a bull “buddy, I’m fukkin seeding you now.” Man I felt his sperm flooding my hole. I just lay in the sling hole wide open and leaking 4 loads and I was still hard as fuck. They made me get on my knees and suck their sperm off their cocks. Sometimes I fucking love being used. After our buddies went home Drew and I got into bed. He said he enjoyed watching me being group fucked and he wanted to watch even more of our buddies breed me. He spooned me and shoved his hard cock back in my cum-filled hole. He felt so good inside me. He softly moaned and whispered "I'm shootin inside you dad".

I'll be in Mexico City for a week in January (4th to 11th). Wanna take loads. Which bathhouses/saunas/clubs/backrooms will be best for a 50-something gringo daddy? (And advice on best times?)

Lila was 44 years old. Wife have a pastor. Named Jim. In a small town. He had a large congregation with his church. She loved her husband and two children. Her 14 year old son. Peter. And 18 year old daughter Grace. Lila did not approve of Grace’s boyfriend Cole. A dark hair blue eye 19 year old high school drop out. She made it clear about her feelings on Cole. Grace had her mother’s green eyes and red hair. Lila caught Cole sneaking out of Grace’s bedroom. In which she and her husband decided that if she was going to be sexually active. Grace should be on the pill. Catching Cole briefly naked seeing him uncut and hard made Lila want to have sex with Cole. Even though it was wrong to even think of such things. Cole did catch Lila checking him out and smiled. Thinking if I can fuck that woman and then use it against her. Cole who was 5’11 medium build knew how to get women into bed then blackmail them. And Lila being a pastor’s wife would get him what he wanted. Some cash from the churches safe. Cole put his plan into action. There was a church retreat for the men coming up. Grace and Peter went to visit their grandparents. Leaving Lila alone. ”Hello Mrs. Loomis.” Cole said has he approached Lila. “Cole, Grace isn’t here.” “I know.” “I came to see you.” “I know you don’t like me.” “You think I’m trouble.” ”yes I do.” Lila responded coldly. “You took Gracie’s virginity.” “We wanted her to save herself for marriage.” “Now what can I do for you?” Cole took Lila’s hand and kissed it. “What are you doing?” Lila shocked. “Apologizing Lila.” “And confessing.” “Let’s go into the church so I can confess to you.” “You should wait for Jim to get back.” Lila said. “It’s you who I have to confess to.” Now in the church. Lila and Cole sit in the first pew. Cole. Holding Lila’s hand takes it and puts it on top of his pants. Lila pulls her hand off it. “What are you doing?” “You need to leave now.” “Really Lila.” “I caught you checking me out.” “You going to say you haven’t thought about me fucking your?” Lila stunned “No it’s wrong. I’m married.” “You’re my daughter’s boyfriend.” Cole kisses Lila. She doesn’t resist. Cole unzips her dress. Lila undoes his pants. Rubbing his hardon through his briefs. Cole and Lila go to the pulpit. Cole lies her down under the crucifix. Pulls off her panties revealing a hairy bush. He pulls off his shirt and underwear and starts to eat her pussy. “Ahhh” Lila moans. She leans up and takes off her bra. Cole then places his dick into her mouth. She works on it like it’s a lollipop. After a few minutes he fondles her breasts. Even sucking on them. Cole then slowly places his dick into one of the tightest pussys he’s ever had fucking Lila was a lot easier than he thought. He changes positions. Having Lila riding him while she’s moaning and looking up at the crucifix. ”my cock feels good deep inside you, doesn’t it Lila?” “Ahhh god yes it does.” Lila answered. Cole was ready to cum inside. Shooting several of his loads into the pastor’s wife. A few days later Cole met up with Lila. She had to be careful not to be seen. Otherwise a small town would talk. “I can’t do this again.” Lila said softly. Cole who was now undressed “one last time Lila.” Lila got undressed and on her knees and started sucking Cole’s cock. “She sucks cock better than Grace” he thought. Cole turned Lila to fuck her doggiestyle. Lila wished Jim could be an exciting lover. Once again. Cole bought her to orgsim. Something her husband wasn’t able to do. She looked at the seamen dripping out of her vagina. Lila took a shower. Cole decided to join her. “wait” Lila said. “I thought this was it.” “Is it really over?” Cole asked. He kisses her and fucks her in the shower with more passion than he did in the church. A week later. Lila gets a package in the mail. In it are photos have her getting fucked by Cole. With a note that says “You’ll get all the photos including the negatives.” “For $1000.00” “Hate for your husband to lose everything and finding out his “so called faithful wife” his a slut.” “Meet me at the address below on Friday at 930 am.” “Don’t show up with the money in cash, I let the photos and videos out.” Lila to get the money from the safe. Made it look like a break in. She couldn’t tell her husband. That she had been sleeping with their daughter’s boyfriend. And someone found out and was blackmailing her. She put the money into a briefcase. Put it in the shed till Friday morning. The police suspected that it might have been gang members in the area who had been breaking into places. Friday morning came. Lia was going to see her blackmailer. The address was for an old motel on the outskirt of town. Lila made sure she was parked a few blocks away just in case anyone should see her. She was instructed to go to room 211. She was a few minutes early. The door was unlocked and walked in and saw Cole. ”Hi Lila, I see you brought the money.” Cole said smiling. ”It was you?” Lila asked. “Who blackmailed me.” ”Yep.” Cole said. “I knew I could fuck your daughter.” “But I couldn’t blackmail her.” “When I saw you checking me out.” “So I decided that a married woman with two children, who is a pastor’s wife would be a much easier target to coax into bed.” “Lila let’s complete our “deal”.” Lila gives Cole the briefcase. In return He gives her the all the photos and videos. “So Lila since I rented this room.” “You wanna fuck one last time?” I promise you there are no cameras hidden here.” ”you get me into bed to blackmail me and now you want to fuck me?” “No thanks.” She goes to slap him, but grabs her hand and kisses her. She finds herself undoing his pants and pulling down his underwear and taking his dick into her mouth. Sucking it with a fury. Cole pulls her shirt off of her seeing she’s braless. Hoisting get into the bed sucking on her nipples. Taking off her shorts. Then underwear. Cole insert his dick into Lila’s tight pussy. “Oh god” she shouted. He was ready to cum. Shooting his load deep inside of her. Cole kept his word about not having cameras in the motel room. Lila went home. Didn’t tell Jim or her family anything about what happened. Had sex with her husband a few days later. Since Jim only liked to have sex twice a month. Lila went to the doctor to discover she was pregnant. But she knew it wasn’t Jim’s. It was Cole’s and she now hod to keep that her blackmailer was the baby’s father

starting conversion on 3rd October - virus appreciation day! That's like having your boyfriend's 2 lines on Valentine's and know to be his gifter... I love stories where guys convert and are followed in their whole journey

Fucked a neighbor in between two pickups parked on the street almost in front of my house in Chicago ...

Mostly because I'm more bottom, if I've decided I WANT to fuck you, then I WANT to cum in you. If you ask me not to cum in you, I'll move to the next bottom. I don't want to disregard your wishes, but they're not aligned with mine, so I'll move on.

Oh yeah….at the AIDS clinic. The bathroom was infamous. I also have raw fucked, bred, stealthed @HIV fundraisers, and on Aids life cycle bike ride.

In a NYC taxi cab

Eating my cum from the hole that ive fucked, is the perfect way to get stupid hard again and fuck some more.

Chapter 36: My first Son! Both Marc and I eagerly awaited to see if he would convert. Almost three weeks later, he texted me a picture of a positive home test, with the note Congratulations you are a daddy! My cock immediately rose to attention, and I sent the picture to my step dad saying congratulations step dad! My dad was at work, but took a picture of him with his pants down behind his desk. His cock was rock hard, and glistening with pre cum. He told me to get in the car, and drive to his office and he'd breed me. His office was a small private office and closed at 5. Most of his co workers had left. I got to his office, locked the door and dropped my pants. He was rock hard on his chair, and said take a seat. I immediately got on his lap, and rode him with furry until he busted inside me. I got off of his lap, and he said bend over my desk bitch. He then fucked me like crazy, saying things like not bad for a granddad huh? We then decided to go out and celebrate the birth of my first son. And here ends this storyline, but don't fret, a new one is in the works!

Dale leaned down and softly kissed Brock's neck as his poison-tipped member found his nephew's hole and pushed against his virgin sphincter. The pressure evoked waves of anticipation and pleasure that rippled through Brock's body. Instinctively, the teen pushed a little, relaxing his hole just enough that his uncle could push inside. The precum-slick head of Dale's lethal organ sat just inside his nephew. To Brock, his uncle's cut head felt like a molten ball of metal, radiating warmth to his whole body. Brock inhaled sharply at the sudden fullness he felt. Dale had done a great job opening up his hole, because Brock didn't feel much pain. Just very full. That changed as Dale began working more of his dick into Brock's guts. "Oh fuck, uncle Dale!" Brock moaned as his hole stretched around his uncle's circumcised head and thick shaft. Dale's hairy, athletic body loomed over Brock's taller, broader, more muscular frame. Brock clenched the mattress as he adjusted to the invasion of his body. Brock had experimented a little with his own hole, mostly fingering himself while jerking off or in the shower. His uncle's member took that pleasure to a level Brock had never fathomed. Brock found himself subconsciously reaching down to spread his cheeks to allow his kin deeper inside him. "Eager. I like that," Dale growled into his nephew's ear. He began slowly thrusting into his nephew's tight hole. The generous amounts of virus-laden precum definitely helped, but nothing could fully prepare his nephew's hole. "You've never been fucked before, have you?" Dale asked slightly incredulously. It took Brock a second to realize he'd been asked a question. "You're going to be pozzed on your first fuck." The significance of being converted by his first fuck was not lost on Brock. In fact, it was one of the things he was most eager about. His own uncut cock was streaming precum. Neg precum. His uncle was slowly and deliberately thrusting into Brock's hole until he met resistance. Every thrust was a cacophony of conflicting sensations. First pleasure as his uncle's fat mushroom head hit his prostate, which quickly collided with the electric jolt as it met resistance. Dale continued working against that pressure slowly. Agonizingly. Each thrust pushed a new pulse of precum from Brock's own sizeable member. Brock tasted his precum a few times, but avoided touching his dick much. He knew he would explode instantly if he did. "Stay right here, kiddo. You're going to love the next part." Dale slid slowly out of Brock's hole. The sudden feeling of emptiness left Brock longing for more. Dale fished a brown bottle out of the pocket of his jeans before stripping them off and tossing them next to the tripod. "Roll over," Dale ordered and Brock obeyed, now prone on the futon, Dale stood over Brock's head, venomous precum streaming from the head of his dick. That precum was already coating Brock's guts, its viral payload making its way into his bloodstream. Dale shook the brown bottle a couple times. He uncapped it and held it under his nephew's nose, helping him breathe deep through each nostril in turn. Brock felt light headed briefly before the feeling spread out of his head to the rest of his body. His skin felt like it had been charged with electricity. Waves of arousal and pleasure that Brock usually felt when he had a raging erection were pulsing from his hole. His hole that he was becoming increasingly aware was empty. Some feral part of his brain was telling him he needed that void filled again. Dale recognized the primal need in his nephew's shifting body language. He returned to the futon and easily slid his member back inside. Brock grunted as the feeling of deep resistance returned. Dale helped him dose from the bottle of poppers again before taking a generous dose himself. Then he pushed. Brock felt his whole body relax as the second dose of poppers permeated his body and his uncle's dick slid through the resistance, finding its way to the deepest parts of Brock. Brock was speechless. He was damn near breathless. Dale began thrusting again. Still slow and deliberate, but this time with an amount of force that Brock met eagerly by bucking his meaty ass to meet each push. "Fuck yes, kiddo," Dale encouraged his nephew. "Your hole feels so fucking good." Brock could only moan in response, but Dale got the impression he was enjoying himself. "I'm not going to last much longer this deep inside you, bud," Dale conceded. "Are you ready for my toxic seed? There's no turning back if I keep going. I won't pull out." A glimpse of clarity broke through the haze of the poppers. "Fucking POZ ME, uncle Dale. I need your toxic load in me." Dale picked up the tempo of his thrusts. Despite not having touched his dick, Brock felt his own orgasm building as his uncle's dick massaged his prostate with each thrust. "You ready, bud? You ready to join my fuck club?" "Please POZ me. I need you to POZ me," Brock pleaded with his uncle. Brock could feel Dale's dick begin to swell inside him. His uncle drove his toxic sting as deep as he could. Something between a moan and a scream escaped him as his dick began to spasm inside the teen. And then the cum began to flow. The spasms of his uncle's dick pushed Brock over the line. He was so pent up, there was no preamble before rope after rope of thick, white jizz began blasting from his dick. He hit his own eye, he coated his torso, a couple shots shot past his head and landed on the black futon mattress. One shot missed the futon entirely, landing on the floor beyond the frame on the end. Each shot was followed by a heavy *plop*. Within a second of Brock's impressive display starting, Dale began unloading in his nephew's guts. Dale didn't bother to count how many shots of venom he pumped into Brock's vulnerable guts, but he knew it was likely a record for him. Dale slowly eased his dick out of his nephew's hole. "Be sure to clench, I'm about to pull all the way out and you want to keep as much of that in as you can." Brock could see streaks of red mixed into the froth of cum on his uncle's dick. He did as he was told and clenched. A small dribble of cum leaked out, but with how deep Dale's poisonous DNA was inside him and him being on his stomach, it wasn't going anywhere. Brock scooped up the dribble of cum and licked it off his fingers. It tasted incredible. Better than his uncle's precum. Dale crossed to the camera and turned it off then returned to help Brock sit up. He kissed his nephew deeply. And held him in a strong embrace for a while. "Most likely, you are going to get very sick in a few weeks. When you do, call me and I will come help with what happens next. Can't wait to tell Rodney I met my nephew for the first time tonight."

When I was 16 (fake ID said 21)I met a guy at an adult book store glory hole and agreed to go back to his motel room across the street and fuck raw if he agreed to pull out because I just wasn’t attracted to him but I needed excitement. He bent me over the corner of the bed and began fucking me. When I could tell he was getting close I reminded him to pull out which made him put his body weight on me so I couldn’t move and he blew his load deep in my ass. It wasn’t a good feeling struggling to get up while a big guy breeds you against your will. Before I could even say anything to him as I was pushing his load out onto the floor it really dawned on me how stupid of a request it is to ask a top to pull out. I mean his dick was already leaking pre cum in me and I wasn’t protected from anything else so what difference does it make if he breeds me.

*please excuse any rough grammar in this one. Haven't gotten as much time to edit as I usually take, but I wanted to get this chapter out* "Curiosity is going to get you into trouble, Brock," Dale said. In person, Dale was even more striking than he had been on the screen. He was a bit over 6' tall and he was very fit. Not exaggerated like a body builder. More like a man who worked a very physical job or a natural athlete. His beard was still immaculately trimmed. He wore a white shirt that was nearly skin tight and contrasted nicely with his tan. His dark wash jeans were just tight enough for his bulge to be unmistakable. Brock started from his fixation on Dale's bulge, "Wait, how do you know my name?" "You really do look like your mom. Well, more like your grandpa Glen," Dale continued as though he hadn't heard the question. Dale had closed the distance between them. His eyes drifted down to Brock's dick and the substantial amount of precum dripping from it. He slicked his fingers through the precum. "Except that. That you get from my side of the family." He licked the precum off his fingertips. Brock was confused. "Your...side of the fam..what...?" Dale's laugh was a low, masculine rumble. "Before you ask, no I'm not your dad. My brother Rodney is." Brock was trying to process this information when the realization that his uncle had just swallowed his precum crashed over him. His dick throbbed. "So what are you doing here, Brock? This isn't exactly a place for preppy high school boys," he chided. "Online chat rooms said the bookstores were an easy place to get off," Brock replied sheepishly. "So I thought I'd check it out." "You decided to come to the Block for your first porn store experience?" Dale asked, somewhat incredulously. "What does your search history look like?" Brock looked down sheepishly and chuckled. He was still painfully hard and leaking precum. "They definitely left some things out." Dale chuckled again, "I'm sure they did. The preview booths can be pretty popular if you want some glory hole action." Brock could see his uncle's bulge was a bit more defined. "That's what I had heard. What was that video playing downstairs?" Brock was careful not to let on that he had seen the second part. "I do some amateur porn stuff. We sell...actually, just follow me." Dale swiped up some more of Brock's precum and walked toward the heavy curtain as he casually licked it off his fingers again. Brock stuffed his still hard dick back in his boxer briefs and buttoned his jeans before turning to follow. Behind the curtain was, as far as Brock had seen, the cleanest room in the building. He immediately recognized the futon. There was some very low tech camera equipment set up in front of the futon. "Welcome to my studio," Dale said sarcastically with an exaggerated gesture around him. "I opened the store back in the 80s fresh out of high school. Decided to try and cut some overhead by putting some home made products on the shelves." "And what about the fuck club the guy was talking about?" Brock was still trying to hide how much he knew. "Ah. That..." Dale turned to a small table and picked up a small orange flyer. He handed it to Brock. It advertised a monthly sex party and had the store's info. "Every second Saturday. All day. Usually rent out some space in a park or hotel depending on the weather. The video is part of the application process." "I want to apply," Brock blurted out immediately. Dale smirked a little, "You've seen what that process entails. Are you sure?" "Yes." Brock had already begun stripping his clothes off. Dale checked the camera and adjusted some lights. When Brock was down to just his boxer briefs, he sat down on the futon. Dale didn't start the camera rolling. He stripped his shirt off, baring his furry chest and abdomen and sauntered over to stand over Brock. Brock wasted no time unbuttoning the fly of Dale's jeans and getting the head of his uncle's dick in his mouth. It was covered in a layer of precum. Brock cleaned off every drop, savoring the taste and the feel of his uncle's slick, syrupy fluid on his tongue. Then he began to work his way down the shaft. "As you probably saw in the video, I am poz and not on meds," Dale said. "I'm sure you have learned about HIV in school." Brock mumbled something in the affirmative around Dale's massive dick. Dale pulled Brock off his dick roughly, "and you are aware that you will, in all likelihood, be infected?" Brock had been terrified of HIV when they learned about it in sex Ed. His bible-thumping health teacher and the abstinence only curriculum she taught had made it out to be a modern biblical plague sent down to cull the homosexual and exterminate the sexually immoral from the earth. Brock had written all of that off as hyperbole and researched it for himself online. He had a better idea of the risks and how it was transmitted, but he was still a little terrified. And that terror was like steroids for his libido. "Yes, sir," Brock looked up at Dale, a lustful hunger simmering to the surface, "I want you to poz me, uncle Dale." Dale growled something unintelligible in response and let Brock return to his dick. Brock enthusiastically devoured Dale's cock, pushing himself further down the shaft, letting Dale's cock stretch his throat. Before long, Brock's nose was buried in Dale's pubes. Brock was quietly impressed with himself and came up for air, working Dale's head with his tongue. Dale wrapped his hand around the back of Brock's skull and pushed. His dick rocketed back down the young man's throat and dale roughly and held him there until he felt Brock's throat spasm and saw the panic on Brock's face. Dale withdrew his dick and a mixture of saliva and Dale's precum dripped from Brock's chin. As he coughed and sputtered, trying to recover from being choked, Brock looked up at his uncle. The light and joking demeanor that had run under Dale's teasing only minutes before was rapidly being replaced by lust and a primal desire to infect his own kin. Before Brock could fully recover, his uncle's 8" member was sliding back into his throat. Brock was impressed with his ability to keep up, considering he'd only ever casually experimented with deep throating food. He suspected it was because his uncle' dick was thick enough that it left little room for gagging - it was like trying to squeeze a hot dog into a straw. When it was apparent that Brock was comfortable with the size of his dick, Dale pulled out and let his nephew clean the fluids off his dick. "Stand up. We need to get some interview material," Dale said. He stepped out of frame of the camera. The red light on top of the camera blinked on. "State your name and age for the camera." "Brock. 18." "And why do you want to join this sex club." Brock pondered this question for a minute. "I always thought I was destined to change lives," Brock said, grabbing his steel-hard dick and emphasizing the outline of his bulge against his compression boxer briefs. "I figure my best chance to fulfill that destiny is with this." Brock had often felt like an outcast among his peers. He had been the tallest in his class since the 6th grade. A couple guys on the basketball team had finally caught up to him this year, but otherwise he stood a good 3" over everyone else at his school. The nicknames about his height were corny, but liveable. The introduction of the locker room and having to change in front of his classmates had been fresh hell. He never could quite figure out why he was being made fun of for having a dick that bulged regular underwear to obscenity. He got really good at hiding his erections and wore athletic compression shorts to reduce his bulge, but still most of his peers had a rough idea of his size and decided it was something of ridicule. He tried to find new ways to hide what should have been one of his best traits. Standing there on camera, painfully erect, there was no hiding his dick anymore. "Take those off, let's get a look at you, Brock." Brock quickly shucked his boxer briefs. Dale picked up the camera and took the audience on a tour of his nephew's body. Starting from the top, he pointed out brock's chin-length auburn hair and full beard. The camera lingered on Brock's muscular arms and shoulders, toned pecs and abs generously pelted in dark red hair. And then the camera found its way to Brock's uncut, 9" cock nested in a thicket untrimmed public hair. "That is an impressive piece for someone so young," Dale commented. Brock shrugged. "Good genes, I guess," Brock smirked and saw a trace of amusement return to Dale's eyes before lust snuffed it out again. Dale circled Brock like a lion playing with its meal. After some good shots of Brock's meaty, muscular ass, Dale returned the camera to the tripod and stepped back into frame. "On your back, legs up," Dale commanded. Brock obeyed. Dale positioned his dick, dripping precum, just outside Brock's hole. From this angle, Brock had a great view of his uncle's scorpion tattoo. He reached out and caressed the tattoo gently with an air of longing. He thought about all the precum he'd already swallowed and trembled with excitement as he became consciously aware he'd already consumed a substantial amount of his Dale's virus-laden venom. His uncle's infectious DNA was dripping onto Brock's hole. Brock knew he was ready for the sting of inevitable death. To be reborn among those who would not only appreciate him, but celebrate the things about him that he had been bullied for. The things he resented. He wanted what his uncle was talking about in the private video he's seen in the office. The Scorpion Society. That was where he belonged. With the unexpected, gentle gesture, Dale seemed to have a sudden change of heart and instead of plunging his stinger into Brock for the kill, he nealt down and engulfed Brock's dick in his mouth. He took Brock to the root in one swift movement. Brock could feel his uncle's throat working around his soda can thickness with ease. "Holy fuck..." Brock managed before he devolved into gutteral moans of pleasure. Brock's eyes rolled back in his head. Brock's orgasm had been building from the moment before he got out of his car. Brock had been through a roller coaster of emotions. Anxiety. Curiosity. Lust. Terror. Lust again. More lust. Brock felt like all of those emotions were being loaded directly into his vas deferens and if his uncle kept going, they were going to explode. Spectacularly. Dale seemed to realize this and released his nephew's cock, trailed his tongue past his balls, and buried it in Brock's furry hole. Dale was showing his brother's bastard son much more compassion than he had shown for Zeke in the video downstairs, which did not go unnoticed by Brock. Dale alternated swirling his tongue around Brock's hole with probing deeper with his tongue. Before long, Dale was working a finger deep inside his nephew. It seemed effortless. Brock was vibrating with excitement when he realized his uncle had slicked up his finger with the deadly slime oozing from his dick. Brock knew that his uncle's virus was already going to work against the vulnerable mucosa that were the only barrier between him and his coming conversion. Dale worked his way up to three fingers. Brock noticed a feeling of burning while his uncle worked his hole open the last bit. Dale returned to his original position, dick positioned just outside his cognate's now slightly agape hole. Brock spotted the blood under his uncle's fingernails. He knew his T cells had already lost the war that was on the verge of raging in his blood. The blood he shared with the man commanding the assault. The man whose viral dna was dripping into his hole as he waited for the perfect moment to strike.

PART FOUR I was kneeling in front of David, cleaning his cock when his phone rang. "HEY! I hoped you'd be watching......did you enjoy the show? I thought you would......hold on I'll put you on speaker.." and he put the phone next to the table where I was kneeling. "Is this your new boy James I've been hearing so much about?" the voice said from the phone. "No...it's actually an even newer one!...." David said. "And better!" I giggled, interrupting "His name's Josh and he'd never even been with a guy before he'd been with me so he's my good boy. Can you see the guy over there Josh?" He asked me, pointing at a nearby apartment building. I could see a guy waving & I waved back. "That's one of my very good friends Jerome." "You sure know how to pick 'em David." Jerome said. "Would you like me to fuck you as well my new friend?" He'd barely completed his question before I shouted, "Yes please!" in reply. "What an eager young man you are, and have you been fully converted yet?" It was funny, I kept hearing about being converted. I wasn't sure what else I needed to do to prove that I loved being fucked. "I think I have!" "Well, you definitely will be by the time I'm finished with you. Now David and I need to talk about when I can come over, can you get him hard while we talk please my good boy?" David took Jerome off speaker as I knelt in front of him. It was such a great feeling to be sucking cock in the sunshine and I positioned myself so Jerome could check out my arse as I sucked David. I was too busy sucking (& loving it!) to be paying attention to what David was saying to Jerome: "Yeah......real pleasant surprise....nah no chance he can get any, he's here for the week....told him I had COVID....course not!.....he's so fucking high he won't be paying attention to any of this....few loads but can't hurt to try yours too...probably an hour or so before it wears off? So bring some if you've got it.....piss mainly.....nah, no idea...yeah, the lube's got it too....don't worry about it, the kid's a dirty fucker....I know! See ya in 10" It was then he tapped me on the head, I looked up his dick still in my mouth. "Jerome was so excited seeing you in action, he's gonna come over OK? He'll probably wanna fuck you today, is that alright with you?" I was so excited by the prospect, I smiled through David's dick but wanted to make sure he was alright with it. "Are you OK with it though David, I don't wanna do it if it'll make you unhappy..." "My boy, nothing makes me hornier or happier than seeing other daddies fucking you OK? Just think of it a special gift I'm making sure that you're getting. Now get your daddy good & hard before Jerome arrives..." END OF PART FOUR

Chatper 2, second meeting, Mind control. Eddy and I met a second time at his place. We talked again about our fantasy to make us hornier and hornier… We agreed to a sign that’s gonna mean that he’s ready for me to POZ him. He’ll have to sniff poppers 6 times with each nostril and he’s gonna ask me to do the same… so 6, 6 and 6… that’s gonna be THE signal for me to begin his transformation. We took off our clothes, we sat on the coach and we started to play with our bodies… Eddy is not into mansmells but I wanted to test how hypnotized he was… so I hadn’t taken a shower for 2 days, no deo, no perfume. I felt him quite receptive to my musky smell… but not enough to surrender to me. He still resisted but I felt that I’m bringing him further on this path. He started to suck my dick… but I refuse. I explain to him with a hypnotising voice that he needs to accept his fate, submit his body to my Stinger… and carry my DNA in him forever… He seemed a bit disappointed but it’s how I work to be able to reach my goal… to possess him and break through all his barriers. He said that the night before, he dreamt about a black angel that came to him and started to pass through his body several time… He confessed that he wants to do it… but he’s still not ready to. Last night with his dream, he went a bit further in his head. He tooks 2 sniffs of poppers by each nostril and he offered me to sniff once only… The score is 2, 2 and 1… His head spun a bit and he shot his load onto his body. We continued to talk about THIS moment, THE moment of his sacrifice to become a member of my Colony… but also his to become a Devil too… His dream consumed him and that gives me more motivation to bring him much further than I planned…

He walked out again instead of staying over. My ex, my first, my fucking everything. We had broken up almost three months ago, and he still would drop by the apartment to hang out with me almost every day. But he would never sleep over and never entertain the thought of getting back together even tho we spent all our time together. I don't know why we ended up breaking up it was a shock, he just did it one day, but now nights were the loneliest they'd ever been. So when the nights get lonely I did what every lonely gay man does: I logged onto A4A. Some time earlier I had put up a few discreet shirtless pics and one where I arched backwards, just to get boys talking, but I didn't really having any intention of connecting with anyone who responded to my profile. I'm 23 5'5", 145 pounds, a 28 inch waist, fairly muscular smooth Hispanic. Yeah, I got a lot of offers. More than one guy at my gym would recognize and approach me, and afterwards spend countless small talk emails begging for me to 'Test drive' his cock, or 'bitch bounce' for them. I must admit, I got a nice rubbery one reading the comments. I would talk to them for a bit then jack off, but tonight, I had actually been allowed to cuddle with my ex and I was so horny when he left I did the pathetic thing and asked him to fuck me. But he just smiled, kissed my head, ear and neck, and left. The sexual tension was so intense my thick, seven inch cock was rock hard and dripping before I even logged onto A4A. I scrolled through the emails and then profiles till one made me stop. FUKYNGBREDEEP 39 years old. 6'6 220lbs. I couldn't help but click to get a better look. There was only a torso pic of a light skinned man with a beautiful body, hairy chest, pecs that looked bigger than my head and arms that could crush Grandma Smith apples into apple juice. Then there was the profile itself LOOKING TO FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF YOUNG BOYS. YOU DOWN, HIT ME UP. LOOKING FOR YOUNG BOYS WITH A TIGHT ASS. MUST BE WILLING TO PLEASE ME IN EVERY WAY I WANT. MUST BE UNDER 25. NO EXCEPTIONS. I WILL ASK FOR ID IF YOU LOOK OLDER THAN 25. I"M ONLY INTO YOUTHFUL BOYS. NO SHAME IN MY GAME. I KNOW WHAT I WANT AND I GET IT. POPPING CHERRIES ALL OVER THE WORLD, MAKING SMALL DICKED MEN HATE ME. LOL Profession: EAT FUCK BREED. Top. 10 Inches Uncut Anything Goes POZ My mouth was wide open reading the description of ten inches, and then closed when I read poz. I closed the profile, and got a drink and went on with my browsing. Before I finished my drink, I clicked his profile again, I read it and go turned on. I closed it and shook my head. But before 20 minutes passed I opened it again, and that's when he messaged me. "You want it" Was all the message said. I read it four times just trying to think of the possible responses, "Yeah it nice but..." "No way!" "Confident are we?" But before I could send any of it he messaged me again. "I'm logging off, call me." And left his number and logged off. I shook my head while still staring at his profile. I walked away from my computer preparing to jack off, when I got a text message from my ex saying he was sorry etc etc. I looked at the number on the screen of the computer and slowly typed it into my phone. I hit call, and the voice on the side of the receiver made my throat go dry. A gruff manly baritone answered. "Yo." "H-hey" I responded "I'm the...." "I know," he cut in, asking simply "Where are you?" I answered before I could stop myself. "You're close by," he responded. "Come over." "I don't hook up" I replied. "We don't have to hook up. I can't rape you, I'd go to prison. Come over. Two hot guys chilling out. If you want I'll show you my dick and you can leave whenever you want. Just come over. You know you want to see me." I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah...ok." He gave me the address and I got in my car and drove over. It was close, maybe a 15 minute drive and I was in a neighborhood of decent houses. At the end of the street was a house that looked to be a duplex. I texted my arrival. In about a minute a shirtless, pajama bottom wearing sex god was standing in front of his home. His hairy chest and abs were even more defined in real life and he looked so enormous my mouth dropped before I exited my car. He smiled and shook my hand firmly. He had green eyes and a thick 5 o'clock shadow. I followed him inside and he grabbed a beer as I followed him down a hall up a flight of stairs and into a messy bedroom. The king sized bed was tossed and had a distinct smell, but while I was noticing the room and the big screen which was playing a silent porno, my host had taken off his pj bottoms revealing a hairy thick muscle ass, and as he turned around hanging between his legs was an huge soft cock that seemed as long as half his thigh. I inhaled suddenly and coughed as though I was choking just from looking at it. He smiled. "It's eight inches soft," he announced grinning with obvious pride. For several seconds I stood there silent, completely stunned. Other than porn, I'd only seen my ex's cock up close, and he was fairly sized, but this guy's cock was insane. "You're HIV positive" was the only thing that spurted from my mouth. He laughed and turned to look at the TV, his monster dick swinging as he did. "Yup" he replied, taking a swing of beer. "I'm sorry I...I should go. I don't know what I'm doing." I turned to leave the house, but before I could reach the door and he strode across the room and stood in front of the door. "Touch it" he invited me. I stuttered meaninglessly. "Touch it," he repeated, "You know you wanna, feel it." And with that he guided my hand to his hairy bull sized balls. I felt them in each hand and looked up as he shut his eyes and breathed deeply. The cock was already the size of my forearm and so heavy when I took the shaft in my hand I stroked slightly down I heard him chuckle. He put his arm around my neck and guided me too the bed. He laid down there while I sat between his legs, his cock pointing at me, and I found myself stroking his hardening growing cock. He watched the porn on the TV screen behind me, every so often looking at me and smiling while I stroked up and down his giant shaft until it reached it's full length and girth. I was in awe. It was a beast of a dick, heavy and full. And then I noticed that as I stroked upwards, a large bead of precum appeared at the tip and began to drip down the shaft. When I did it again even more precum began to slip out. "Fuck," I breathed softly. I heard his chuckle and found him gazing at me somewhat amusedly. "You like cum?" he asked. I shrugged, truth was, i loved it the taste the feeling when my ex's cock would erupt inside me. We were each others first, so we barebacked all the time, but this was completely different. It was like I'd turned on a faucet, more and more precum began to pour from the tip with each stroke and now my hand was sticky and slimy covered with this dangerous spread. "Get comfortable," he suggested as he leaned toward me and began to help me pull of my shirt. I kicked off my jeans and now he was smiling but differently. Something hungry was in his eyes. "You're a hot lil fucker, aren't you?" I smiled continue to stroke his increasingly slick dick. "You like getting rimmed?" I looked at him and nodded. I knew I had a nice ass, even straight guys would say so, besides a lil rimming would be fine, My ass was begging for something. Anything. So I slipped off my underwear and turned around showing him my butt. "Damn boy!" he remarked. I smiled as he put his hands on my hips and guided my butt to his mouth. "Ohhhhhhhh......fuuuuuuuuck" finally erupted from my mouth when his tongue met my hole. I could feel his warm tongue opening me up and shoving itself deeper into me. "Ohhhhh.....fuuuuuuuuck!!" I said again as i felt his teeth abraded against my hole. "You're tight boy!" he remarked. Almost automatically I began to gyrate and grind my hips back toward his face."Fuck yeah!" he said and began eating again vigorously. I was holding onto his monster cock like a pole for support as he ate and ate and chewed and licked and tongue fucked me. I was losing my mind it felt so good. The whole while I stared at his giant daddy dick looking at me dripping salivating begging for me take it in my mouth. And the dick's owner was wildly tongue-fucking me like I had never been rimmed before. His hands worked all over my ass and body and his tongue moved with aggression and force that i could feel his tongue being inserted and withdrawn as he sucked and ate me out. My eyes rolled back with my head and before I could stop myself I took the head of his cock into my mouth. My mouth felt so full with just the head and I felt him moaning "Yeaaah!" into my ass I moved my head up n down and side to side sucking up his poz precum. It tasted so thick and good I moaned loudly on it while I tried to work my mouth down his shaft, but I could barely take it half way. The volume of our moaning increased as we pleasured each other, until finally he lifted me off his cock and, as I got on all fours, he knelt in front of me, presenting me with more cock to suck. Groaning in pleasure, I took it into my mouth as he gently pushed his dick into my throat. "That's it, boy." He spoke gently remarking "Your mouth is like an ass. It can take it. It can swallow my whole dick." I grunted with approval at his suggestion. Taking my head into his big hands, he slowly began to fuck my throat. I choked and gagged. "Nah nah nah, boy, relax," he remarked, adding "It's just like taking it up your ass. Relax and let it get wet. Let it all drool down. It will help you take it. Yeah, yeah, there you go, there you go. Yeah, let it pour down your chin make it wet." I was coughing up on my chin and a puddle was forming on the sheets as my drool and snot was falling from my mouth and deeper and deeper his cock pushed into my mouth it was heaven. He took one hand and wiped some off the drool cough up from my chin and began rubbing it on my hole. I gasped and moaned as he worked a large we digit into my wet ass and opened it up. He pulled me off his cock and laid me on my back and continued working his finger in my hole. "Oh yeah you like that don't you boy?" I nodded as he worked his finger in and out of me making me gasp and moan with each intrusion. "Yeah, you want some more?" I nodded as he pushed a second finger into my hole. twisting and turning them I moaned and gyrated under him. "Fuck yeah" I moaned "Oh god fuck yes." "Yeah taste these fingers, boy, they taste good." I took his two fingers in my mouth and sucked, tasting my ass juices. I grunted in approval and sucked away as i felt his cock pushing against my hole, teasing it. "Wanna feel how this dick feels in that boy pussy?" I looked deep at him as he pushed his dick against my hole lining it up. "Tell me you wanna feel this dick, boy." My breath quickened as he applied pressure but I said nothing. He pressed harder, I could feel the head slipping in slowly as he pumped again and again until finally,"You want this cock, boy?" "Fuck yes sir!" POP! My hole swallowed the head. "Oh GOD! FUCKKKKK!" I felt his cock split my ass he pumped slowly . My ass was tight but he knew what he was doing. He pushed in an inch, stopped to let me adjust, just pumping back and forth till he felt me moaning then pushed further. He entered me slowly, his death stick opening me deeper and deeper. My head rocked from side to side and I spread my legs apart. He held my ankles I could see his muscles and veins pumping with the same controlled ferocity of his cock. After about 15 minutes of this entry I reached down between my ass and felt still another three inches of rock hard thick cock against my hole begging to slide home. I left my hand there and felt as slowly they too entered into me watching him watch me till i was holding his balls resting on my hole. "YEEAAAAH!!!" he growled and I could feel the growl resonating in my ass vibrating inside me. Then it began. He pulled back and fucked. I screamed as he did again And again. Again and again. "OH MY GOD!!!!" I yelled and held on to his shoulders where my ankles rested as he fucked again and again. I could feel his cock pounding in my head and in the head of my dick it felt like i would cum with every thrust. I yelled again and again as he fucked deeper and deeper pulling out more and more fucking me. I could barely breath as he drove me into his headboard again and again. "FUUUUUUCKKKK!!!" I again yelled as he grabbed my ankles forced them above my head to touch the headboard and began to let gravity drop his monster into me. Then he suddenly he pulled out of me and pulled me down the bed. I tried to catch my breath, and he flipped me over and pulled my ass up. Then in a fluid motion he sank his dick back into my ass, balls deep, doggy style, and holding my hips as he pistoned fucked me. WIth a free hand he grabbed my hair and pulled my head back as he fucked relentlessly into me. I was lost feeling so open and taken control of that when he flattened me out on my stomach I couldn't help but push my ass back on him as his muscle body fucked me from above n behind. He rolled over and now I rode him bouncing as hard as I could. He turned me around dick still inside me and forced me on my back ankles wide as he continued to climb on me and fuck me again on my back. "You ready baby." he finally growled "I'm gonna fucking poz this hole. You will never be the same and you will belong to me." I looked back at him terrified. "Tell me you want this poz load, baby!" I bite my lip as he picked up speed. "SAY YOU WANT MY LOAD, BOY." "FUCK YES. GIVE ME YOUR LOAD. FUCK I WANT YOUR POZ CUM!" I felt him erupt inside my hole. Cum was filing me up fast as string after string blew into my body. I moaned and touched myself, but he held my hands above me. "I said I would poz you, baby. I'm not done." He kept fucking me. I could feel the poz load running in and out of my ass as he flipped me me into various positions, fucking continuously. I passed out in the middle of it, and woke up he was fucking me face down on the pillow unloading another load into my ass. He fucked me three times that night. When he finally pulled his cock out of my ass, both my ass and his cock were coated with cum and blood. My hole gaped wide, and we both reeked of sweat and sex. I crawled off the bed, dressed, and he ushered me out the door. I stumbled to my car and somehow drove home where I stripped, climbed into bed, and touched my hole, feeling load after load of his poz cum beginning to drip out of my body. My phone buzzed. It was another text from my ex asking if I could hangout. I licked some of the cum from my hole off my finger. Sure, I thought. Why the fuck not?

I had met a top and the post was worded kinky breeder , toys .. new and kink interested welcome ! so I answered the add and we set up a time . I cleaned out and arrived at his place , we quickly went to his play room , I was stripped, and lead to a sling , my arms and legs cuffed, he began by getting me very hard and edging me , he had me absolutely in heat ! He then got a mask . A gag with a hole in it and asked me if I was ok . I nodded, he began to work my hole , smaller toys and getting bigger ( I have an 11 inch toy so nothing was crazy for me ). Soon he began to ask me if I wanted to get fucked .. I again nodded and my now well opened and slick hole was barely feeling him , he tells me I am so open he needs friction to cum , and then inserts a tunnel plug .. and it was huge , he locked my dick in a cage , and then began to fuck me , he was slow at first .. I was in heaven . My hole was so full , locked and about the most turned on I have been .. as he fucked me he pulled on my nips and I just let go .. in a sling , stuffed, locked and gagged .. enjoying every moment .. he made me into his human flashlight .. before long I felt like I was gonna cum and I did as he destroyed my ass .. soon I could tell he was getting close and dropped his load deep in me .. I did not really feel it ! When he was done he replaced his cock with a dildo and fucked my sloppy hole with that until I came again , he pulled the tunnel plug out and a massive cumload about fell out .. it’s been a few days and my hole Still lose and I want that feeling again !

Those little red ribbons were often more effective back then than Grindr is now. And if that sounds flippant, don’t shoot the messenger because I know of loads of guys who regarded them as a variant of the hanky code.

There are few professional films that I find good. The acting is bad and takes me out of it, regardless of how hot it may look. Homemade vids are my choice.

The creation of independent content, pioneered by sites like X-Tube (may it rest in peace), revolutionized adult film. My biggest problems with adult film I grew up with in the 1990's was: very formulaic: some scene setting with (usually) badly delivered dialogue, kissing, from every imaginable angle, sucking from every imaginable angle, and eventually, fucking in 3 different positions from every imaginable angle. The fast forward button as often utilized since each section went on way longer than needed. I also found much of the 'porn music' to distract from the scene rather than enhance it. Independent and amateur content changed all that. The scenes became shorter where they needed to be, the style gave it a more documentary in-the-moment feel rather than slickly produced in a studio. The sound was the actual sounds of the guys in the film, not overdubbed grunts and moans added in post that often didn't synch up to what you were seeing on film. And, thankfully, none of that "porn music." In the end, the studios had to bend to that style because it proved more popular. Independent filming also opened the door for something other than 20 year old muscle jocks with big cocks. Now you can get films with bears and dad/coach types, and every imaginable kink beyond vanilla fucking--like fisting and sounding and pup play. Now, all that said, some independent/amateur video is better executed than others. In my experience as a adult film maker, having at least one camera man who can move about is essential to really capturing the moment and give a feel of something beyond "hey let's film with our phone camera and prop it up on the nightstand." Good lighting is essential. You do want some good camera angles but you need motion too. You want the viewer to feel like he is in on the action rather than a passive observer from afar, making camera movement and zoom abilities essential to help create that sensation in the viewer. The sound is genuine, not dubbed or drowned out by annoying music, so you want to make sure you have a good microphone to capture the grunts and moans--and even the dialogue--clearly. And yes, as one poster already noted, we are clearly having a great time when we film, even if it means five non-stop hours of sex, because we are enjoying every piggy second of it. The first film I ever did was a group scene, the director said to everyone before we started "remember, you are having sex. Sex is supposed to be fun and enjoyable so that should be the expression your face and body give to the camera. I don't want to see any scowls or bored looks. It should be 'smiles everyone, smiles.'" That direction has stayed with me through every film I've done and if you're really into having sex like I am, the bliss filled smile comes naturally. (p.s. I am JaredEriksonXXX on "X" (formally Twitter) and justforfans and have filmed for Natural Born Breeders, KeptSecretXXX, Hot Older Men and produce my own content as well)

My best friend in grad school and I lived together for 2-3 years. We were just buds because we were totally not each other's type. After I got my first job and moved away, I ended up meeting his younger brother who happened to move to the town where I now worked. We ended up hooking up a few times. It was clear to me he thought his brother and I had been a couple, and he was getting off on fucking me because he thought I was his brother's ex.

Nice to see my 6 year old thread dug up, Things have not changed for me, only got worse I would say. I still suck off random cocks any chance I get, alot off Grindr, and alot more homeless cocks now. Last year I found out about a homeless encampment in my town, I ended up going there several nights a week. Got to the point they all knew why i was there, and would just goto our "spot" and line up soon as they saw me there. There was 6 or 7 i was sucking off a few nights a week. 2 of them, one a big black man, started fucking me on a regular basis also. City ended up running them all off and clearing out the encampment. I was SO bummed. I miss those men feeding me their dirty dicks.

Hi Sirs, Will be visiting my Dom top Sept 8 to 11 for my first gangbreeding. Looking for hung tops to use me Recommended to stay at the freehand hotel ? anyone ever stayed there?

About two hours ago. Was going to meet up with my young Black Breeder then head to the gym for a workout with his loads absorbing into me - always had a great workout after a man bred me. Since time was short, I suggested he join me at my gym where he can get in for free with me. Afterwards, we ended up in one of the fully-sealed stalls in the locker room, I got his dick slick and bent over holding myself against the thick doorframe while he piped my faggot rear hole. Had me in all sorts of positions that I’ve seen in top amateur pornos. He nutted twice up my hole and kept hammering my butt churning his sperm deeper into my guts (he never really got soft).

Me too. and havin my guts soaked. i wanna do a piss bukkake scene so fuckun bad

Chapter 14: The Seed is Planted We finished our wings and headed quickly back to the dorm where we immediately got naked. I adked Marc if he was ready for this, and he said definitely. We embraced, kissing each other, and Marc mentioned how far we've come from skinny dipping and jacking to not just fucking him but attempting to gift him. He said he knew our session would be unlike his with the doctor who just wanted to plant his toxic seed into any willing hole. I told Marc I wasn't going to fuck him, but rather make love to him. He simply smiled and said let's do it! We started off being very romantic. Kissing, cuddling and caressing each other's bodies. I quickly put Marc in position on his back, with his legs over my shoulders so I could see his face as we made love. There was a look of fear, yet excitement in his eyes. He started off by begging me to breed him. I just lubed his tight hole up, and stuck the head of my cock in him asking if he truly wanted my toxic seed in him. He hesitated and finally said yes. I had the feeling that he just wanted my load, and he would deal with any consequences after. Before I started breeding him, I told him tonight could change his life forever, and asked if he was prepared for that. Again there was an awkward moment of silence before he said he was ready. I slowly slid my cock in him until it was fully in him. I let him get use to it before starting to gently thrust in him. The look of fear was going away, and now was just pleasure. He told me he had waited so long for this night to happen. I replied that so did I. Little did he know that I didn't just want to breed him, but for him to be my first conversion. I wasn't sure that would happen tonight, as he had mentioned having the PEP which his doctor made him take after each time he made was seeded by him. I did find his bottle of PEP which the label said a quantity of 10, and there were only 6 pills in the bottle. I'm guessing that the doctor had seeded him 4 times. Before I left for the weekend, I would take a second count to see if he took one. Our session seemed to last forever. I felt myself wanting to nut in him several times, but was able to control myself. It was odd for me. I guess it was because I wanted him to be my first conversion, yet I wasn't sure he was ready for that. I knew in my heart it would eventually happen, and honestly tonight was more than I expected would happen. Marc started to beg me to fill him with my poison cum as he called it. I picked up my pace and shot a huge load deep into his second ring as i asked Marc if he was ready and willing. Afterwards he rolled on his stomach and told me to eat his ass. I started kissing and licking his back from the neck down until i got to his ass and stuck two fingers inside him. Although there was some cum in there, the majority apparently was deep in him. I then buried my face in his hairy hole pluging his hole and presenting my fingers to his mouth and he greedily sucked on them.

This is actually very close to a story Idea I came up with ages ago, of a person "cursed" with the need to fuck others to stay alive, each person they infect, they basically leach away their life force, Their victim going from healthy, to AIDS wasted in a matter of moments, and then left to passion the seed to others. I LOVE how you have brought this to life and only wish I had the time to have wrote my own

Part 2 “Take off your pants,” I said, my finger running down his trail of hair and stopping above the button, teasing my need to see the dick he wouldn’t be using that night. At least, not the way he would be thinking. He scrambled to unbutton his pants, dropping them to reveal briefs which hugged his erection perfectly. His cock was pressed against his body, moving along his left hip as far as it could go. It could go pretty far, but there wouldn’t be any argument on who was going to be the top once he saw mine. I left my shirt on but undid my jeans, revealing the jockstrap I wore beneath. Because it was dark, he couldn’t see the stained fabric clearly, but he’d sense it in a moment. I parted my legs a bit, allowing for my bulge to become even more prominent. For a third time, he licked his lips. “Take off your briefs,” I said. Eager, he pushed them down, allowing his erection to jut out. He had to be seven inches, maybe eight, clearly a young man who was gifted genetically. How he viewed himself as anything but a catch was beyond me. All the men who could have had him before I got to him should have been ashamed of themselves. Hopefully, after I was done with him, they’d get another chance and receive their punishment for their mistake. His balls were pulled tight to his body, his desire to fuck plain as day. His chest was rising and falling quickly, his anticipation rising. I wondered how many men he’d been naked with. I wondered how many men he’d fucked or been fucked by. I wondered if he knew that, even if he wanted to, there was no chance of escape now. He was mine. “Remove my jock,” I told him. He looked down, confused a first, and then stepped forward, reaching out a hand. “No,” I told him. “Remove it with your teeth.” He looked up into my eyes, waiting for further instruction, and then kneeled. “Hands behind your back,” I told him. He followed what I told him, clasping his hands behind himself as he leaned forward, his face stopping a few inches from my crotch. I was sure he was smelling the jock strap now, but I knew there was no way he was going to back out. Even if the smell did put him off, he wanted not only my approval but also my dick so badly that he’d do anything I told him. That was good as that was exactly what I planned on doing. He opened his mouth and tried to angle himself better, his teeth separated slightly. I knew that there was no way to take the jock strap off without either risking biting my dick or having to press his face against my body. He did the right thing, and I was proud of him. He pressed against my body and managed to get the jock strap pouch in his mouth, stains and all. I watched to see if he’d spit it out or grimace from the taste, but there was no reaction other than a low groan I knew was from pleasure. Slowly, he pulled down with his teeth, his hands still behind his back, dragging the jock strap off my grown and down my legs. Before he could get far, my cock shot out and hit him in the face, leaving a trail of precum across his forehead. Rather than stop his progress, he continued pulling the jock strap down my legs until meeting the floor. Seeing him bent over, the crack of his ass meeting my gaze for the first time, I felt a rush of energy coursing through me. I was sure it was partially an aftereffect of the young man I’d fucked that morning, his “energy” still settling into my body. “If you’re going to take all of me,” I told him, his innocent eyes looking up at me, “You’ll want to get me slick for your hole.” He slowly nodded and raised himself until he was eye-to-eye with my dick. He stuck out his tongue and licked the underside of the shaft, lingering on the glands and sending waves of pleasure through my body. Without having to think, my hand reached around and grabbed the back of his head, slowly pressing the head of my cock against his lips. “More than that, boy,” I said, my voice deep. All men his age have some type of lust for a daddy and to be dominated. “Boy” gets them to the place of needing my approval faster. Now, I was sure he’d want to please me no matter what else I wanted. Getting my raw cock up his ass would be too easy. Half of my dick was in his mouth, moving toward this throat, and already his eyes were watering. How many men this young guy had sucked off I didn’t know, but I assumed it wasn’t many. He needed training. I’d do it, except I never fucked the same guy twice. I entered his ass, blew my load into his guts, took his years, allowed my strain to do its work, and I moved on. Still, watching this guy trying to get my cock deep into his throat had my already hard dick getting even stiffer. Fuck, I loved watching men work so hard to please the man that saw them only as cum disposals. Did they think it gave them worth? I snatched my dick out of his mouth, his spit stringing between us. I leaned forward and cleaned my dick on his face, his spit sticking to his stubble. “Time to open your hole,” I said, winking at the eager face staring up at me. He jumped off the floor and climbed onto the bed. I never asked if this guy was a bottom. I just knew. He looked like a man who lived to serve the needs, desires, and lusts of other men. It’s what he was made for, and I was going to help him fulfill his purpose. There are few true tops in the world, just some men who don’t know what their asses need… just men who didn’t know what they needed to give up to me to truly live. “On all fours,” I told him as I saw him lying on his back. Why guys wanted to fuck missionary I didn’t know. I don’t want to be looking at your face the whole time. I have mirrors in my room so I can look at the bottom’s face as I blow my load and infect their bodies. I’d rather watch their bodies squirm as my big dick fills them, threatening to tear them in two. When they’re on all four, I can see their arms shaking, trying to stabilize themselves. Plus, it’s a great view of their ass. His ass was pointed toward me, his back slightly arched down, pushing his muscular mounds of flesh in my direction. There is a coating of hair over them, just enough to prove that this was a real man taking dick. My cock glistened from his saliva, giving enough lube to push inside his ass with little effort. I almost bottomed out, but I stopped, watching as his ass opened, his arms shaking, and his head tilting back as ecstasy filled his body. “Fuck” he moaned. I saw in a mirror that his eyes were closed, face showing the struggle of taking my big dick but also loving it. He bit his lower lip as he moaned, my dick slowly pulling out until only the head remained. “Tell me you want me,” I told him, my hands grasping either ass cheek and holding tight to the warm skin. “I fucking want you,” he said, eyes still closed. “Tell me you need me.” “I need you.” “You need me to what?” I taunted. “You need me to make you mine?” “Fuck yes,” he moaned, back arching lower, his ass pulling my dick inside his body. “Make me yours. Take me.” The magic words. “You’ve got it,” I said, thrusting my entire dick into his body. His head thrust back, eyes looking up to the ceiling, mouth open wide as I opened his ass wider than any other man had or he ever could. His arms shook, but the strength of his youth held through, keeping him up. His back started to rise, but I pushed down, arching his back, moving all the way into his body. “Don’t fight me,” I told him, pulling out and thrusting inside again, his ass shaking while his hole grabbed onto my dick. Even his body knew he needed me to stay inside him, to finally bring his life some importance. His warmth radiated from his body, his heartbeat felt clearly on my cock. With every thrust, I could feel our heartbeats syncing, “Just give in.” “Fuck,” he moaned, his voice quaking. “It… feels… so… good…” “I know, baby,” I said. Even if I hadn’t already locked him in, calling him “baby” would definitely make him mine. “Can you feel how big I am inside you? Can you feel how big you’re making me?” “You’re huge,” he moaned. “It’s like… It’s like you’re tearing me open.” “Only if I didn’t restrain myself,” I said. In the mirror I could see that his dick was rock hard, cum leaking out as if he was cumming. All men did this when I fucked them. Their weak bodies worked hard to prepare themselves for my gift, for what they were about to receive and give up. Though the bottom didn’t know it, his mind too focused on how wide I was stretching his ass and how hard I was hitting his prostate, his body knew what was about to happen and had already surrendered itself to me. The prey knows when the predator has won. Now, as I gave him the best fuck he’d ever had, his body was ridding itself of all the negative cum stored up inside its balls, making room for what I would be injecting inside. Soon, his balls will produce triple the amount of cum compared to a normal man, burdening him with the need to spend the remainder of his life fucking any man he comes across. He won’t be able to do much else as the urgency to spread my gift will consume him. In a matter of minutes, his body will be producing poz cum. But not just any poz cum… my poz cum. “Fuck,” he said again, finally noticing the incredible amount of cum leaking out of him. “You’re fucking the cum right out of me.” “Yes, I am,” I said, my grip tightening on his hips. I could still feel his heartbeat in his hole. As he was looking down at his cock, I felt a strong wave of warmth coursing through my body and down to my cock. Suddenly, his head was thrown back, eyes wide, mouth open, but there was no sound made. In that moment, our heartbeats were one. The connection was finalized. There was no escaping me now. I released his hips knowing he couldn’t get away even if his life depended on it… and it did. I pulled my shirt off, revealing my biohazard tattoo in the mirror. Already it was fading from what it had been in the club. I looked down at his lower back and saw the new addition to his body. It was faint, but the pale outline of a biohazard tattoo was coming through on his skin, growing darker with each thrust. His body had accepted me. His body had synced with me. Now, it was time to make his body and what would have been the remainder of his life mine. I picked up my pace, sweat pouring off my body, my grunts now sounding animalistic. The room stank of sex, his dick still ridding itself of unworthy cum. No longer would his balls produce the cum carrying his DNA, the cum which could have promised him a family. Now, his balls were preparing to change forever, to evolve into their ultimate state. Soon, his balls would produce my cum, ending his family line and continuing mine. This is what he was made for. “Who do you belong to?” I cried out, my pace quickening, our heartbeat growing faster. “You,” he said, his mind now rewriting itself, teaching him of his new objective in life. “Who does your dick belong to?” “You.” “And whose toxic cum is churning now inside your balls?” “Your cum.” “And whose life am I taking in replace of gifting you with my cum?” The young man’s head tilted down and his eyes met mine in the mirror. “My life,” he said. “Then give it to me,” I said, forcing the entirety of my dick inside his body and erupting inside him. His head fell forward while mine went back, now my eyes and mouth wide open in pure ecstasy. In that instant, I could see all the days he would have lived if I hadn’t met him. I could see him finishing college, making his parents proud. I could see him getting his dream job. I could see him meeting a nice man and falling in love. I could see him proposing and starting a family. I could see his face as years went by, his true potential unrealized. Just as quickly as I saw it, these images faded into darkness. All those years he could have lived were now moving into me. As all of this was happening, my tattoo was fading away until my arm was bare, the tattoo on his lower back a vibrant sign of his new status. His dick stopped leaking, his balls transforming painfully in his sack, his face twisting from the agony of his transformation. His balls were now mirroring my own, ready to serve their new purpose of pozzing up more men in my image. I could feel my body growing in strength, a new energy filling me. The young man’s youth filled every part of me. I pulled my dick out of his ass, his body slumping down onto the bed. He was fast asleep. He wouldn’t sleep for long. Once he wakes, he’ll get up, get dressed, and head out on his way into his new life, his new purpose. He won’t say anything since there’s nothing left to be said. I don’t know where he’ll go or what he’ll do concerning the images I saw. I know they’re not possible now. Perhaps he’ll drop out of school to give himself more time to fuck. Perhaps he’ll never talk to his family again, disappearing into the bathhouses and gloryholes where no one can disturb him of what he knows needs to be done with the remainder of his life. Who knows how much time he has. I don’t. I also don’t care. He served his purpose, giving an alpha man like me, a true man, more time on this earth to fuck up other men and continue my legacy. Once he truly realizes what I’ve done to him, he won’t do anything to stop what is coming. He’ll accept it as his true destiny. I flexed in the mirror, admiring myself. The punk’s life took almost ten years off me. I looked at my arm and knew the tattoo would come back eventually. When it did, I’d find several more men to pick up the burden of keeping my strain alive. The young man groaned on the bed, his new tattoo in sight, the skin around it an angry red. “I really took it out of you,” I said, smiling in the mirror. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ If I turn this into a series, I'd explore different men with this ability and the men who fall prey to them. Maybe I'd return to Hunter again. That's an "if" for now. Enjoy Hunter.

Part 3: What Will Wants I checked the text message from Dominic to the apartment building I was parked outside of. It was a match. It was a nice building, proving that Dominic’s business must have been doing well if it allowed him to afford a place here. I rung his apartment number, waiting for a response. “Hello?” came a voice. “Hi,” I said, sounding like a kid trying to sell cookies. “It’s Pasto… I mean, It’s Will Ryder.” “Hey, Will. Right on time. I’ll buzz you up.” As I entered the elevator, I found myself feeling nervous. Was it my dream returning to mind? Was it the thought of beling alone with this man, this stranger? I tried to shake off my nerves. I knocked on Dominic’s door and waited, stepping back as it opened, and a nearly naked Dominic stood in front of me. His chest was bare with only a towel covering his lower half. I could now see all his tattoos and his hairy chest. I flashed back to the dream I had had, seeing him on top of me, feeling him inside of me, and I could instantly feel my cock starting to grow. “Sorry,” he said, smiling. “I just got out of the shower when I buzzed you up. I haven’t been able to get dressed yet.” “That’s no problem,” I said, trying to collect myself. “I go to the gym. It’s not like anything I haven’t already seen.” “Glad to hear it,” he said, stepping aside and welcoming me in. “I’m about to start the steaks. There’s beer in the fridge. If you’d like some wine, I have some in the chiller beneath.” “I don’t drink,” I told him. “Really? Not at all?” I shook my head. “Well, there’s always water.” He told me, but I almost missed it as my eyes wandered down to his treasure trail where a tattoo was just hidden by his towel. “Is water okay?” he asked. “Yeah,” I told him. “Thanks.” “I’ll go and change and be right back,” he said, disappearing down a hall. I wandered around his apartment, noticing drawings on the walls of what I assumed were tattoo ideas. They were detailed and showed a lot of skill. “Do you like them?” Dominic asked, entering back into the apartment fully clothed. “They’re great,” I told him. “You’re really talented.” “Thanks. Do you have any tattoos?” I shook my head. “I almost did when I was in college, but I chickened out.” “Not a fan of needles?” “I just wasn’t sure about doing something that would be so permanent,” I told him. “Plus, what would I get that I know I’d want for the rest of my life?” “There’s always something,” he said. “You just haven’t found it yet.” I turned to him and found him smiling at me. He tilted his head and looked me over, waiting several seconds before saying, “I’ll get the steaks going. How you like your meat cooked?” “Well done.” I told him. He snickered. “What?” “Nothing,” he said. “I’m just on the opposite end. I like it raw.” “Not too raw,” I told him. “That’s unhealthy.” “A bit,” he said, opening the fridge where he removed a packet of steaks and a bottle of beer. “It’s still better.” I’d never had a better steak in my life. We sat at his table talking, comparing our time at college. “I left after freshman year,” Dominic said. “School just wasn’t for me.” “College isn’t for everyone,” I told him. “Did you always want to be a pastor?” he asked. I waited a few seconds before saying, “Yeah. I did.” “That didn’t sound convincing,” I shrugged. “My dad is a pastor, so I always knew what I was going to do.” “But did you really want to be a pastor?” “I… I don’t know. I think so. I mean, I don’t have anything else I’m good at.” “I’m sure that’s not true,” he said. “Maybe there’s something you’re good at that you haven’t tried yet.” “Like what?” I asked. He took a sip of his beer, finishing the bottle. “I’m going to get another one. Are you sure you don’t want one?” “I’ve never had a beer,” I told him. “Well, now’s the time,” he said, taking out two beers. He took them to the counter and opened them. “Do you want a glass or just from the bottle?” “I don’t know,” I told him. “Whatever you think, I guess.” He came back with two bottles and handed me one. I smelled it and cringed. “It’s like vinegar.” “You get used to the taste,” he said. I took a sip and cringed. “That’s really strong.” Dominic smiled. “Keep going. You’ll grow to like it.” I took another sip, finding it easier to drink but still bitter. “Are you dating anyone?” Dominic asked, taking another sip of his beer. I shook my head. “Not since college.” “Why not?” I took another drink of the beer, finding the taste growing on me. “It ended so badly that I didn’t want to get hurt again.” “That’s reasonable,” Dominic said. “What happened?” “She cheated on me,” I said. Dominic whistled. “That’s how it goes, isn’t it? They’re fucking someone else while they’re fucking you.” “Not exactly,” I said, drinking more beer. “What do you mean?” “We never…” I said, trailing off. “Never?” Dominic said. “Have you… have you ever fucked someone?” I shook my head. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said. “How has someone that looks like you not fucked anyone?” “I’m waiting until marriage,” I told him. Dominic started laughing. “Are people still doing that?” “I want my first time to be with someone that I love,” I told him. “It’s special.” “Sex is sex,” he said. “It only carries weight if you want it to. I fucked a guy last night, and it didn’t mean anything.” I stopped drinking the beer, nearing the bottom. “You’re gay?” “I thought you knew that.” I shook my head. “Does it matter?” “No,” I said, feeling slightly uncomfortable having walked in on him as he stood in a towel. Now we were having dinner together. “Did you think this was a date?” I asked him. “No,” he said. He waited a moment before asking, “would it be awful if I had?” “I’m not gay,” I told him. “Not even bi?” “No,” I told him. “I’m straight.” “You could have fooled me,” he said. “What do you mean?” I asked. I was starting to feel the beer as my head swam. “I saw the way you looked at me when I opened the door.” “You were in a towel,” I reminded him. “You surprised me, that’s all.” “And all the other times you looked me over?” he asked. I sat quietly, looking down at my beer. How did he know? I’d never had a gay thought about anyone before, and the first time I do, he somehow knows about it? “I’m not judging you,” Dominic said. “I’m flattered. A hot guy like you staring at me is an honor.” “You think I’m hot?” Dominic nodded. “If it wasn’t for the whole, waiting until you’re married thing, I’d try to have you right here, right now. But, like you said, you’re not gay.” I sat quietly, thinking about my dream and everything Dominic had said about me. I’d never wondered if I was gay before. It never occurred to me that I could be. Not until I saw Dominic did I start to have these feelings, feelings I wasn’t able to understand fully. Maybe Dominic understood more than I knew. Maybe he could understand what I was feeling and why. My head swam as I tried to figure things out. I finished my beer. “How would I know?” I asked. “How would you know what?” “If I was gay,” I told him. “How would I know?” “It’s not that complicated,” he told me. “Have you ever thought about a guy in a sexual way? That’s a basic clue.” I stared at him for several moments until nodding. “Really?” he said. “Who?” I tried to take another drink of my beer, remembering that it was finished. “You,” I finally said. “Me?” Dominic said, the word hanging between us. “You thought about me?” “I had a dream,” I told him. “When was this?” “A week ago,” I said. “Tonight.” He smiled. “And what were we doing?” he asked, standing up and taking my empty bottle. He went to the fridge and grabbed more. “Do I really have to say it?” I asked him. “You know it was sexual.” “There’s a ton of things we could have been doing,” he said, handing me a bottle. “For my own gratification, I want to narrow it down.” “I shouldn’t be talking about this,” I told him. “This is wrong.” “And yet,” he said, nodding down to my crotch. I looked down and could see my pants starting to tent. I moved to cover myself, but I knew it was too late. Just thinking about telling him was making me hard. I could feel my heart starting to race, my skin feeling flushed. It was getting hot in the apartment. “We were having sex,” I told him. “What kind?” “I don’t know.” “You’ve got to have seen some porn,” he said. “Come on. What position were we in?” I racked my brain for the name. “Missionary.” “Missionary for the pastor,” Dominic said. “That’s fitting. Who was on top?” “What?” “You really don’t know anything, do you?” he said. “Who had a dick in their ass? Me or you?” I drank more of my beer, feeling hotter every second. “I did.” Dominic smiled. “You dreamt of me fucking you,” he said. “The day we met. You dreamt of me fucking your hole.” “Can you please stop saying that?” “How did it feel?” he asked. “It didn’t actually happen,” I reminded him. “But how do you remember thinking it felt? Did you think it felt good? Did you like it?” “I don’t know,” I told him. “I woke up before anything really happened.” His smile faded a bit. “What happened? Why did you wake up?” “I had a wet dream,” I said. “Sounds like your subconscious is trying to tell you something,” he said, standing up from his chair. “Sounds like, even on our first day of meeting, you knew you wanted me. That’s hot. You’re a man who knows what he wants.” “I don’t, though,” I stressed. “I don’t know what I want.” “Your dick says otherwise.” “It doesn’t mean anything,” I told him. “But it could,” he said. He came around the table and stood in front of me. With his crotch nearly eye level, I could see a bulge forming in his pants. Without realizing, I licked my lips. “I know how to know for sure whether or not you’re gay.” “And how’s that?” I asked. I must have been fuming as my body continued to feel as if I was overheating. “Kiss me,” he said. “What?” “Kiss me,” he repeated. “Kiss me, and if you don’t feel something, you can go home right now and forget all about me. I won’t see you again. I promise. But, if you do feel something, you have to see where it takes you. Deal?” My anger was rising, leading to a hasty decision. Whatever reasoning I normally had was gone. I stood up and faced him, Dominic puffing out his chest slightly. He wrapped a hand around me, pressing his palm to the small of my back. He pushed me toward him, his other hand reaching up to my face, feeling my stubble. Our eyes met, and all my anger subsided. He brought my face toward his, his mouth opening to receive mine. My eyes closed slightly, but my other senses were heightened as I felt his tongue enter my mouth, tasting me and me him. Our bodies were pressed against each other, our growing bulges rubbing. As we kissed, my dream was awoken, playing again in my mind. Now I could feel him against me for real. I could smell his skin. It was intoxicating. He leaned back and looked me in the eye. “So?” he said. “What did you think?” Without hesitation, I reached out and grabbed his face, pulling him back in for another kiss. I wanted to explore every part of him. I needed him closer to me. I needed him to bridge whatever gap existed between us. I needed him… inside me. “Fuck me,” I whispered, breaking the kiss. “What did you say?” Dominic asked. “I said, fuck me,” I told him. “But we aren’t married,” he joked. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” I stopped and thought about it, really considering what it was that I was asking him. A week ago, I would have thought I was crazy saying that I wanted this man, a near stranger, to fuck me. Now, it’s all I wanted. “Yes,” I told him. “I want you to fuck me.” Dominic smiled. “Alright,” he said. “But, if we do this, you have to listen to everything I say. Do you understand. Whatever I tell you to do, you do it. No matter what it is. That’s the deal. If you want me to fuck you, I’m in charge. Understand?” “I…” I started, finding a moment of uncertainty. “If you want this, there’s no going back,” he said. “You have to be sure.” I shook my head, a rush filling my mind. “Will,” Dominic said. “Are you ready?” “Yes,” I told him, wanting my clothes off that instant. “Then follow me,” he said, grabbing my arm and guiding me away from the table and down the hall. We passed a door on the right which was closed and then stopped at the room at the end where I could see his unmade bed. He led me inside and turned to me. “Last chance to leave,” he said. I shook my head and started to unbutton my shirt. Dominic smiled and then did the same, pulling off his shirt and revealing his hairy chest and sexy tattoos. With my shirt off, Dominic reached out and pulled me close to him, running his hands through my chest hair and pinching my nipples. I gasped, never feeling something this erotic in my entire life. “Are you okay?” he asked. I nodded. “I’ve just never…” “I keep forgetting you’re a virgin,” he said, smiling. He kissed my neck and then moved down to my chest, stopping at my nipple which he bit. “What are you—” “I said you need to do what I want you to do,” Dominic said. “This is a part of that. We’re going to do things tonight that will push you, but it’ll all be worth it in the end. By tomorrow morning, you’ll be converted. Is that what you want?” I ran my hands over his chest, feeling his heart beating. His chest hair curled over my fingers, as if his body was pulling me into him. “I want you,” I said. “I want it. I want everything.” He took my chin and pulled me in for a kiss. “You’ll get it,” he said. I smiled.

Leatherpunk, I can’t tell you how sorry I am for your loss. And yes I do see what you mean. About a year and a half ago I was stealth dosed G by a pnp pig I was friends with and who knew - like everyone I partied with knew - that I can’t do G. EVER. I have a severe reaction to it. But my bud thought it’d be fun/cool/hot/interesting/whatever to dose me and see what happens. So....I woke up in the back seat of my own car, puking all over the place, to find this guy and someone I didn’t know and never met had been driving me around totally unconscious for over an hour and a half, panicking about what to do if I didn’t wake up. As soon as I was conscious enough, the two guys drove to a third guy’s place - also a stranger - and told me I‘m fine now and can drive myself home now unless I still feel like playing. I don’t have any memory at all of what happened and didn’t feel right for about a month or so afterwards. My total shock over what happened, fear of the damage it might have done to my health, and the feeling of total betrayal by someone I’d consideref to be a friend were part of the reason I quit partying. How and why people can do something like that to anyone, whether friend or enemy or total stranger, I’ll never understand. No one deserves that. Ever.

Aaron felt so full with Ryan’s piss in him, but he also felt Ryan’s cock slowly getting softer so he knew he’d need to find a bathroom. “Ryan, lets get a shower and I can let all this piss you gave me out. Do you see where the bathroom is?” Ryan saw the door that was probably the bathroom and pointed it out. Aaron then started to get up, which caused Ryan’s still slightly chubbed cock to slide from his ass. This made both brothers to moan a little. Aaron made for the bathroom a little quickly as he was feeling the need to get that piss out of him. Ryan came in as Aaron was getting all that piss and cum out of him. Ryan started up the shower and noticed it was also a steam bath type so turned that on. Aaron came up behind Ryan and hugged him from behind, pushing his uncut cock up against his brother’s ass crack, and his right pec in his left hand, as his right went above Ryan’s bushy crotch. He started to nuzzle his brother’s neck, and slowly kiss his left ear with lips and tongue. This elicited a moan from Ryan, and he leaned into the kisses from his brother. Aaron whispered into Ryan’s ear, “I’ve always loved you Ryan, I just was always afraid to show it too much to you. I’ve really wanted to hold you like this for a long time. You’ve always meant more to me than just my brother.” Ryan turned around, bumping their hardening uncut cocks against each other, and reaching up to his brother’s stubbled cheeks, and pulled him into a hard kiss. Their tongues battling each other, their cocks rubbing together. Ryan could feel his brother’s hairy chest against his, and his brother’s hands roaming down his back to his butt. Then he could feel a wetness hitting his cheeks, and his brother vibrating a little. Aaron was holding him tightly to him and lightly crying while passionately kissing him. Ryan broke the kiss, “Aaron, why are you crying? What’s wrong.” “The person I love the most, I have probably done the worst to. How can I have let them do this to you. How can I have let myself given you what I have.” Ryan reached up and stroked his brother’s face, feeling the wetness of his tears, the stubble of his beard, the heat of his body, “Aaron, you didn’t do anything wrong. You gave me what I think I’ve needed. Maybe it wasn’t the way I would have planned it. They, you, have freed both of us. We both have been so scared of sex in some ways. Now we can just be free. Come on, get in the shower, let me feel my hot big brother’s body the way I’ve always wanted to. Then I want my big brother to take me to bed and make love to me, for him to give me his gift with all the love in him.” With that Ryan pulled is big brother into the hot shower, getting them both wet. Watching all Aaron’s body hair darken and lay on his body. He grabbed the bottle of soap and put some in his hand and began rubbing it into Aaron’s head, massaging his head and his neck, and pulled him into the water to rinse. Filling his hands with more soap he pulled Aaron back a little and began soaping his strong back. For the first time, Ryan noticed a little bit of hair here and there on his brother’s back. He thought it a was so hot to see the few strands like that. Soaping down his back towards his ass, he came to the little triangle of hair just above his crack and how it spread down and over his butt cheeks, and into a thicker amount in his ass. He loved how his brother’s ass felt so firm and yet soft, how the muscles moved has his brother moved. Ryan ran is hand into Aaron’s ass crack, and ran his slick fingers over his brother’s fuzzy hole, hearing Aaron sigh. Ryan continued down Aaron’s hairy legs. Feeling their powerful muscles, massaging the muscles. Feeling his brother’s strength. Coming around to the front of Aaron’s legs, he continued to massage going up. As his fingers lightly brushed against Aaron’s balls, he stopped and got more soap. Ryan began washing the front of the Aaron’s shoulders, lifting each arm to wash each of his hairy pits. Ryan ran his soapy fingers over Aaron’s hairy chest, feeling Aaron’s nipples harden with the touch, pinching each nipple causing Aaron to moan out loud. Continuing down the front of Aaron’s hairy body. Ryan finally come to Aaron’s trimmed bush, and very hard cock that was leaking his poison. Aaron’s foreskin was pulled about a third of the way down his head, and precum was slowly oozing from the eye. Ryan carefully took his brothers manhood in his soapy hands and loving soaped his brother. Feeling his hot cock, its hardness, pulling the foreskin forward covering the head. Then pushing the foreskin all the way back, exposing the wide head, soaping under the foreskin. Aaron moaning the whole time, and continuing to leak his poison. Ryan then carefully began running his hands over Aaron’s balls. Carefully, and lovingly feeling each one and back to Aaron’s hairy taint. After soaping and feeling every part of his brother, as Ryan has always wanted to do, he pulled Aaron under the water again to rinse off the soap. Ryan watched as the soap poured down his body exposing again just how hot his brother is. Aaron swooped his brother into his arms and passionately kissed him. “My turn little brother.” Aaron did the same for Ryan. Seeing all the hair coming in on Ryan’s body, just like his did. Running his fingers over the hole he wanted to be back inside of. Seeing Ryan’s precum pouring out of the funnel his copious foreskin made, a little jealous at how much skin his brother had. They got out of the shower and dried each other with the same love and affection as they washed each other. Both still leaking precum like there’s no tomorrow. Ryan then jumped into his brother’s arms, and Aaron had to put his hands under Ryan’s ass to hold him, his wet cock now poking a little into Ryan’s valley so near his hole. Ryan began to passionately kiss his big brother. Aaron sort of kneading Ryan’s butt cheeks as they kissed. Ryan pulled off the kiss and looked at Aaron, “Now big brother, I want you to make love to me, and give me your gift as it should be given. Give it to me, Aaron. Give me your gift, I want it. I want you. I want you to give it to me.” Then passionately kissed him again. Aaron carried Ryan back into the bedroom, and laid him on the bed with Aaron’s full weight on Ryan. Ryan ran his hands down his brother’s back on to his hairy ass, feeling them twitch as Aaron was slowing humping his cock against Ryan. “Ryan, I love you. If you want my toxic gift, then how can I say no to you my little brother. I’ve wanted you for so long.” Aaron started moving his body down and lifting Ryan’s fuzzy legs up. His face came to Ryan’s fuzzy bush and hard wet cock. Aaron took his cock into his mouth, and ran his tongue into the foreskin, tasting all the sweet precum, making Ryan moan in pleasure. Aaron wanted to have more of Ryan’s cock, but he wanted to be inside his brother again more. Aaron licked down Ryan’s balls, down his fuzzy taint, to his fuzzy hole, where he dove tongue first into his brother. Feeling his brother’s tightness around his tongue, feeling his heat, and tasting his brother. Ryan was almost screaming from the rimming Aaron was giving him. He felt Aaron’s tongue going in out of his ass. “Aaron, I need you in me, NOW. Please give me your cock. Fuck me.” Aaron came back up Ryan’s body bringing Ryan’s legs up and on his shoulders, and Ryan reached down taking Aaron’s hard leaking cock. Rubbing his brother’s exposed cock head against his hole, smearing the toxic precum on and in the lips of his hole. Aaron felt this, and squirted a little more precum just into the opening of Ryan’s hole. Ryan leaning up while holding Aaron’s exposed head against and just slightly in his hole, and Aaron leaned over to Ryan. As the brothers passionately kissed, Aaron’s cock slide into Ryan. The brothers moaned and screamed into each other’s mouths. Without breaking the kiss, the Aaron began slowly fucking Ryan. Pushing as far in as he could go, and then pulling back until he felt his cock head being gripped by Ryan’s hole. Sliding all the way back in. Ryan had his hands on Aaron’s ass, feeling the power in his brother’s ass as he fucked him, feeling the dimples come and go. He wanted Aaron to fuck him hard, but also just loved this slow fuck. “Aaron, fuck me. Go faster. Fuck me.” Aaron leaned over and sucked Ryan’s earlobe, and lightly into his ear, while still slowly fucking him, from deepest penetration to almost out. “No little brother, I’m in charge right now. I’ve loved you all my life, and I’m going to make love to you. I’m going to give you all my love, and my gift with all that love. This is how you should have lost your virginity, this is how you should get the gift you want. This is how I want to give it you.” Aaron then with all the love, all the passion, and heat of his body and soul, deeply kissed his brother as pressed his cock deeply into his brother, right into his inner ring. Ryan moaned, screamed into his brother’s mouth. His cock jerking between them, wanting to cum, but not quite there, but squirting out precum. Aaron couldn’t last much longer, he felt his balls drawing up tighter against him. “Ryan, my little brother, I’m going to cum in you soon, I’m going to give you my gift. You still want it?” “Aaron, give it to me, please. I want it. I want you to give it to me, to breed me with it. Please cum in me. I love you big brother, and want your toxic gift in me.” Aaron still moving at the same slow, loving pace, but this time a little more jerkiness to it because he was so close, slowly moved all the way inside Ryan, right inside his inner ring. Ryan’s inner ring was so tight against the head of his cock. Now he did push into his brother a little harder, a little faster, keeping the tip of dick inside that tight ring, so his cum will go into the deepest, most sensitive, most vulnerable part of his brother’s being. “I love you Ryan, take my toxic cum, take my gift.” Aaron clamped his mouth against Ryan’s, and shoved into Ryan with all his strength and passion, Ryan pulled his hands against the hard fuzzy ass cheeks of his brother trying to pull more of him in. Both brothers hit their orgasm together, screaming into their mouths. Ryan felt white hot heat flying into his inner being, knowing his brother’s toxic cum was going in him, deeply. Aaron’s ass making quick jabs, and all the while rubbing Ryan’s shooting cock between them. Aaron finally felt his orgasm slowing, but he kept pushing in, but pulling a little more back. Spreading his semen, and his gift, all over the inside of Ryan’s ass. Aaron leaned up from Ryan. Ryan reach up to his brother’s chest, feeling the sex sweat and heat in his hairy chest, then up his neck to his cheeks. Seeing his big brother’s watery eyes, “Thank you Aaron. I love you, thank you for your special gift. Now bring that cock up here so I can taste it as I’ve wanted to.” Aaron pulled out of Ryan, and knee walked up to Ryan’s mouth. Ryan immediately took his brother’s still hard cock in his mouth. Loving the mixed flavors of his own ass and Aaron’s cum. Aaron still had a small blast left apparently and shot some into Ryan’s mouth. Aaron then pulled his cock out and turned around, so they could each clean each other’s cocks off the natural way, loving each other’s taste. One toxic and the other not, for long. As the brothers were relaxing after their intense love making, a hidden camera switched off, followed by Bart coming in the room. “That was the hottest scene I’ve ever seen. I’ll give you two a copy of it. I do believe there’s more than just brotherly love between you two.” “Here’s your clothes and car keys. Your free to go. Little Bro I’m sure has been infected, and after that little show, will be again real soon if that didn’t take. In about five weeks we’re having a little conversion party, we’d love for you two to be here. I’m sure little brother will have converted by then, and may even still have the fuck flu. We have a neg virgin and another neg chaser coming, and you two would be great additions. We can also make it a celebration of you two getting your tats like ours.”

12. Veracruz Para bailar la bamba, Para bailar la bamba, Se necesita una poca de gracia One week after the townhouse fire, they were anchored off the coast of Virginia, and Mike was done, had had it. The End. Flash disclaimers: no animals were harmed in the making of this film; all actors were eighteen or older at the time of production. Roll credits. He swam out to sea, far enough so he couldn’t make it back. Not a great plan, but he didn’t need a plan that was great, just one that would do the job. He swam away from the yacht as far as he could till he couldn’t see it anymore, then swam some more. This wasn’t the way he wanted the rest of his life to be. He wouldn’t let anyone touch him. Not Ben. Not Chris. He didn’t even want to be seen. The one thing the orderly Barkley got right, he was a freak. He swam for miles. The yacht had long vanished, the coastline gone hours ago, his arms were finally growing tired. Still he swam. He’d go till he hit England or France or whatever the fuck was on the other side of the Atlantic. He was getting more than tired. He was getting delirious. Desperate, he wanted to rid himself of life, wanted to shit it out of his body like diarrhea, vomit it out like bad Little Neck clams. He managed seroconverting years ago, it was sketchy time but became manageable, something he sealed a bargain with and could live alongside. But this wasn’t something manageable, something he could live with. This made him not him. He swam harder. Furiously faster. Further out. Not a chance of returning. How much longer could he keep it up? If nothing else it was becoming tedious. He was bored killing himself. He could feel himself shiver, and yet it was July, after the Fourth for god sakes, but he was cold nonetheless. Maybe the cold would kill him first before he drowned. He wished he could stop thinking. The time for thinking was over. Thinking was overrated. Still he swam, one arm in front of the other, one kick and then another. Exhaustion kept at bay, but he could feel it creeping up on him like sleep. It was in the corner of his eye. He could never spot it, for when he moved to catch a glimpse, it moved, lingering just at the edge. He rubbed his eyes. They stung from the salt water. He hated the taste of the brine, hated almost everything right now. Except for Ben. Except for Chris. They let him be. He wished they hadn’t, wished they’d pressed him, made him talk about it, but anytime they did, he’d storm out of the room. So once they’d bought Boris and Roger’s boat and drove into the Great South Bay and points south, no one brought it up, no one talked about anything. Talking was overrated. Swimming was everything now. A goal in and of itself. Dying was everything. Dying consumed him. Dying. It’s an active verb, isn’t it? Means: Not Dead Yet. Because he wasn’t, and because this thing had been on his mind for weeks, he knew he wasn’t dead yet—he pictured Ben and Chris as he put one arm in front of the other. He wished inside he were dead, but he wasn’t—he was very alive. He was conflicted, confused. He hoped in death he would escape confusion. There wasn’t an easy answer. Either he cared for one or the other. He pictured he was with one or the other. It was a binary choice. And yet either choice was null as he felt himself to be null, he’d never satisfy either one. So, the coward that he was, he search for a third option: he swam. Thinking about any of this pissed him off and he swam faster, tried to outpace his thoughts. He doubled down on his strokes, kicked faster, harder, frantically wanting to die before these feelings killed him. He began to weep as he swam. Real body sobs. And why not? He was alone. He was in the middle of the fucking ocean. Who’d see him weep? Fish? Mermaids? If one caught him boo-hooing with his face in the water, he could always say it was the salty ocean not salty tears in his face. He breathed in water accidentally as he sobbed and he choked. He was going to Davy Jones’ Locker soon, so did he care if he choked? He’d be meeting Davy Jones soon. Davy Jones. Wasn’t he one of the Monkees? He laugh. He stopped swimming. He tread water. He was laughing and crying. He was tired, really tired, hadn’t slept for days, tossing and turning, wrapped in his desires and utter pointlessness of feeling anything at all. He’d swum for hours and hours, far, far away, and if not physically swimming away, then for days and days he’d been mentally, emotionally swimming away. Closing off; shutting down. Away from everything. Away from anyone who cared. Treading water as an excuse for living. Suddenly cramps. He folded in half, exploded bubbles underwater. Saw his toes. Coming up for air, he threw his head back, wailing to the sky, crying, Fuck you! for meeting Ben who introduced Drax, and the path his life took. But how could he ever really curse meeting Ben? And with Ben came Chris. He heaved and bobbed, sputtered profanities into the sky, shouted blasphemies into the water, thrashed violently against the waves, but there was nothing to make contact with, nothing to hit to make him feel better, only worse, more hollow, empty. Yelling at God, at the sky, was as fruitless as tossing matches at the sun. The sun didn’t care. It laughed. And at last he was growing weak. It couldn’t be much longer. Small whitecaps broke around his ears. Soon. Soon. He’d wait right here. Death knew where he was. He didn’t have to search any farther for it. Soon it would find him. But like an obligation he couldn’t get out of, like a promised he couldn’t keep, his tangled love followed him, came in sight—Chris at the bow with binoculars trained on him, Ben at the helm navigating to where Chris pointed. They sped up their approached with Chris waving his arms. They didn’t press, didn’t ask, didn’t tell, but they also never gave up. But just as they pulled alongside him, Manetti’s body gave out. He slid down into the depths, went to meet Davy Jones. The Jolly Roger pulled up beside where they’d last seen him. Ben cut the engines. Manetti was finally let go, threading down to the bottomless sea. Chris jumped in the water. Turbulently he dove kicking down, searching desperately for Mike, saw nothing but fingertips disappearing into the grey expanse below. He kicked frantically till whole fingers then a hand came into view. He grabbed it, pulled on it till he grasped the whole hand, Mike’s still warm hand, then the arm, and pulled and stroked and kicked stubbornly trying to rise to the surface. He made no progress with the heavy body. He hadn’t taken in enough air and it was running out. His lungs burned but still he kicked doggedly, didn’t matter he wasn’t rising to the surface. He’d let Mike pull him under before he’d give him up to the sea. There was another splash. Ben dove beneath him, found Mike’s other arm. Together they pulled till the surface came into view. The sun glistened like an orb rippling far above. They sliced water with their free arms, kicking stubbornly with their feet, chasing their breath in the form of bubbles racing to the surface. They broke through the ocean’s skin and gasped for air. Ben had left a life vest waiting close to the boat. Chris grabbed it and tucked it under Mike’s chin. Mike coughed salt water out of his lungs, barfed water back into the ocean. Dazed and half conscious, his chin rested on the orange life preserver. He eyed Chris. He eyed Ben. For a second he thought he’d fallen into heaven looking at the brothers. But then he remembered who he was, where he was, what he was, felt the whitecaps break around his ears. Maybe death hadn’t found him today. But if he had any say, he’d let it find him. One day. Soon. *** he yacht they bought from the morticians, Boris and Roger, called—what else—The Jolly Roger, skull and crossbones painted on the stern, bobbed gently in the harbor. Tucked in their rented slip, the vessel swayed slightly as Chris woke from a nap. He felt the movement so knew they were still on the sea. There was something reassuring about living on the ocean over the last several months. Maybe it was growing up so close to the beach, it was the one place of refuge he knew he could always turn to. She was always there, constant, unchanging from one season to the next. Each year he grew older, she didn’t. Veracruz was a port town similar to Long Beach in a lot of ways. The smell for one. Brackish water mixed with heavy industry. Massive freighters carrying millions of tons of crude oil sat next to cargo ships with thousands of stacked containers. Millions of transaction daily. The port covered over five hundred acres of water, nine hundred acres on land. Veracruz was one of Mexico’s busiest port, its open hand to the world. The volume of exchange was hard to fathom, but it had been this gateway for centuries. Its open hand brought with it Caribbean and African influences. You could hear it in its music, see it in the people. The pleasure boats docked closer to the city hotels and to the city’s center; the massive ships stayed out by the barrier reefs with a nearly thousand foot quay connecting it to land. It was an extremely active port, a lively scene in the daytime, with huge cranes loading and unloading cargo till late afternoon. Then activity ebbed, trucks loaded with containers drove off, and the harbor took on a more serene and festive mood. He got up from his small bunks, and climbed to the top deck bar where he knew Mike and Ben would be. Yep, they were there in flowery Hawaiian shirts bought in Miami, sipping vodka cranberries, watching the lights of the city start to flutter awake. The deep azure sky was quickly fading to night. The first stars of the night were unveiling. “How you feeling, Chief,” Manetti asked him. “Better,” Chris replied. “Can I have one too?” Ben looked him over. “If you’re not gonna get sick, I guess you can.” Manetti, the ship’s official bartender, asked if he wanted a cherry in his Shirley Temple. Chris glared at him. Manetti mixed his vodka cranberry grinning his goofy grin, throwing in a lime. “Arrrrg,” he said in a pirate voice, handing over the drink, “Yer wants to prevent scurvy, matey.” They settled on their barstools. “Perty, ain’t it?” Manetti said to no one in particular, watching the rippling lights coming toward them across the water. He’d come a long way, Chris thought, since the incident in Virginia months back. They all had, healed some or scarred over. Still no one talked about what they all kept quiet about. What was there to say? If you come to an understanding, an unspoken compromise, why talk? So they all slept in the boat’s many separate bunks in different parts of the ship, the master cabin at the bow left empty. Each alone in his bunk with his solitary thoughts, they sailed the Caribbean, hiding from each other as much as from Drax. After a long silence Ben said Veracruz reminded him of Miami. Long Beach, Chris replied. The radio softly played a local folk station—guitars, plaintive Spanish songs, son jarocho. A tune came on that pricked up Ben’s and Mike’s ears. Ben said, “Isn’t that…” “La Bamba,” Mike finished the thought. “Yeah, a lot different from—what’s his name?” “Richie Valens,” Ben said. “Who’s Richie Valens,” asked Chris. Ben explained, “He was someone who died in a plane crash with the The Big Bopper and Buddy Holly back in the fifties.” “Who,” Chris asked again. “Shut up,” said Mike. After a few moments listening to the familiar song overlaid by the original folk melody, not as brash as the early rock n roll rendition, but with complex guitar work still rhythmically inviting, Ben asked Mike what they were saying. Mike listened intently. He’d grown up speaking broken Italian in his house, so over the last months, as they sailed around Mexico and the Caribbean, he’d managed to pick up and got pretty good at Spanish. “The guy’s singing: To dance the bamba, to the dance the bamba, you need a little grace.” “What the bamba?” Chris asked. “I don’t know,” said Mike, “It’s the name of the dance, I guess, like the twist or something.” “What’s the twist,” Chris asked again. “Please let me throw him overboard,” Manetti begged Ben. “Kidding,” Chris laughed. Then something stopped Manetti. A light went off in his face as he cocked an ear to the radio. “Aw, this is good. Listen.” Manetti sang, not very well, but passionately, a refrain, “Yo no soy marinero, yo no soy marinero, soy capitan. He says, I’m not a sailor, I’m not a sailor, I’m captain, I’m captain.” His smile blossomed, the first true smile Ben and Chris had seen since they left New York. Not sardonic or ironic either. Saying something for the first time he believed. “I’m captain,” he sang in his raspy off-key baritone. The three of them sipped drinks and gazed over the port town, felt shrouded in the approaching night. The rocking of the boat brought them together. They didn’t need to talk. Maybe wounds weren’t healing so much as scabbing over. During their months at sea, they’d developed their own silent language, speaking only when something had to be said. Something like they needed a refill of meds, or they needed a new fuel filter. Their exchange over La Bamba had been the most they’d spoken to each other in months, particularly Manetti. Maybe they were ready to talk. Or maybe it wasn’t words they needed to express. A little buzzed, Chris swayed on his barstool to the song’s refrain. As the song went on he got up and swayed to the music in front of Manetti. He’d grown tall in the last few months, still skinny as a rail but now eye height to Manetti. So with Manetti perched on his barstool, Chris looked him straight in the eye. He got in close and was dancing closer. “Bamba la bamba,” he sang in his reedy voice, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. *** A brief history of the internet would likely begin with the Advanced Research Projects Administration network, or ARPANET, a U.S. Department of Defense project, based on the idea that if nuclear war took out parts of the country, decentralized yet connected computer operation would allow data to continue to flow in the un-nuked parts of the United States. Comforting thought. ARPANET was a pioneering network for sharing digital resources among geographically separated computers. You can trace a direct line from its initial demonstration in 1969 to the development and adoption of what we now know as the Internet. Chris was two that year, making his first stack of building blocks—four high. He clapped his fat little hands sitting on the living room rug, while his mother, dad, and twelve-year-old brother watched a shoot-out on Bonanza. In 1976, Queen Elizabeth II sent her first email. As she pushed the send button, she placed her white gloves against her lips. She was very excitedly. The royal family, surrounding her, shared in her delight. When Ben and Mike fucked for the first time at the St. Marks Bath in 1983, the Domain Name System, or DNS, was established giving us the familiar website suffixes .com, .net, .gov, etc., which was a heck of a lot easier to remember than the series of numbers websites previous used, like, say, 176.191.49.254. Two years later, when bath houses and sex clubs were shut down by the health department, in 1985, the internet was well on its merry way. So were Chris, Ben and Mike having dug up Chris’ buried treasure, bought The Jolly Roger, and set sail for a four years voyage hiding on the open seas. Miami, Freeport, Key West, Veracruz, Belize, Jamaica, Puerto Rico, Martinique, Aruba, through the Panama Canal, up to Acapulco, Puerto Vallarta, Cabo San Lucas, with a brief stop in Long Beach to pick up Ben’s record collection and check in on mom. She was better than fine, had a new boyfriend named Burt, who actually was decent to her. She was disappointed they had to leave so soon, but packed the three sea voyagers a lunch, kissed their cheeks including Manetti’s scruffy beard, and with records tucked under their arms, they were back sputtering up the California coast by noon, chomping on Mrs. Prior’s peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and homemade Rice Crispy treats. Mike, Ben and Chris sailed under the astonishing Golden Gate Bridge revealing the magnificent San Francisco skyline, August of ’89. Within a week they dry docked The Jolly Roger, and set up house in the Castro. Chris was twenty-two. One year later, 1990, Tim Berners-Lee develop the HyperText Markup Language, or HTML, which is still the basis of how we navigate and view the internet today. (Where you going with this, Chief? Bear with me, I’ll get to it.) Chris got his first computer the same year. It’s not really a part of internet history, but it’s important to the story because it was important to Chris: his first computer was a Macintosh IIfx. Mike and Ben chipped in together to celebrate both Chris getting his GED and an acceptance letter to Stanford just down the peninsula. That was back when Stanford wasn’t next to impossible to get into. Chris discovered that besides having a knack with car and boat engines, he had a natural aptitude for figuring out how things fit together—physical or otherwise. The very first thing he did when he got his Mac was to take it apart and reassemble it. So combine aptitude with physical objects to a newly discovered affinity for reading and writing code, Stanford was a logical place to park his butt for the next four years. Reading and writing code was intuitive for him. He tried to explain it to Ben and Mike, passing around some ganja they’d brought with them from Long Beach; it’s simply another form of language, he said. Ben and Mike tried to follow as he prattled on. It reflects the same rules as any language: the mechanics of verbs, whether motor engines, electrical systems, or logical functions and methods; the structure and solidity of nouns, whether you’re talking car parts or object-oriented programming’s classes and instances; the skin of adjectives, colors, attributes, the aggregate of forms that determine design; finally the assembled thought, the purpose, the reasoning, the expression, the i/o of flowing data, the brain giving orders—what is it you want this thing to accomplish, man?—it all interlocked in his mind, he’d just never had a way to express it before nor much inkling he even wanted to. But now all that changed: Hello world! Mike took the joint out of Chris’ hand. It didn’t hurt that he graduated from Stanford in ’94. Two guys in the class before his had a startup called Yahoo! They brought Chris onboard first as an intern in his senior year, and then fulltime by summer. There wasn’t a whole lot of money in those lean, early days—the two founders were working with venture capitalists who weren’t immediately forthcoming with cash—so Chris got paid, against Ben and Mike’s advice, in options. Since he was a workaholic, staying up writing code throughout the night wired on caffeine and an occasional jolt of amphetamines, he piled up a shitload of options. He kept them in a shoebox under the bed. When the company incorporated the following year, Chris converted options each time the stock hit a new high. He made a killing in just the first year alone, and still had an almost-full shoebox under the bed. In 1996, Match.com was launched, and other dating sites sprang up soon after. One night, after Mike had brought home some kickass Peyote buttons, and during some powerful, transformative sex—i.e., the first night Chris took his first double fist—he realized he should create a new kind of dating site. He bought a domain the next day, and built the site, still amped from the Peyote and fuckin’ awesome sex, over the course of one weekend. Chris’ life, informed by Mike and Ben, showed him that the rainbow flag not only transcended a spectrum of races and cultures, it also, and more in line with his experiences, encompassed a spectrum of sexual universes. Where dating sites that competed for survival in the burgeoning, Darwinian world of online hookups viewed the model from top down as straight white vanilla, tossing out a net to capture the broadest swath possible, his take on sex was completely opposite, bottom up, a banquet of chocolatey rocky road. He started with all the categories and sub-categories of life he knew viscerally, starting with Master Drax and continuing over the last few years in San Francisco: leather, master & slaves, fisters, S&M, bondage, grunge& raunch, hoods & masks, pups & trainers, military, medical, uniforms, watersports, smokers, skinheads, punks, tats, piercings, feet, chastity, bareback, bikers, bears, rubber, and friendship—you name it, there was a place, or maybe several places, for you somewhere on his site. San Francisco was the perfect beta test city to incubate his idea. His site was free with limited search capability—proof of concept, man, search is gonna be the key, he claimed—but for a few dollars more, a monthly Premium membership gave you unlimited search capabilities. This bottom up approach, this one-size-does-not-fit-all model, this choose-your-own-adventure paradigm—plus, add-on messaging, chat rooms, picture sharing, winks, scorekeeping, leaderboards: the whole gamification of getting laid—it caught fire. First city-wide, then nationally, and within a year, internationally. We’re talking beaucoup bucks here, sailors. It, his website, and he, its sole founder, made scads of money from the get go and attracted attention. But, perhaps, attention might not be what he was looking for. But then you have to figure, hey, he—they—could only keep out of site forever. *** The old guy at the end of the bar lit a Camel cigarette. Bobo, a large, very attractive middle-aged drag queen who helped Manetti run the place weeknights (and who had an obvious, though unrequited crush on him—but that’s another story) served Duke, a young, wiry, opinionated hustler who liked to badger Mike incessantly. They were at the center of the long saloon bar staring at the smoking man. It was a slow Tuesday night—only four of them in the place. The big green neon clock showed it was almost one-thirty in the morning, a half hour from closing. “Not cool,” said Duke to Manetti. Bobo checked her nails studiously. “Hey, mister,” Manetti said, walking over to the man. “You can’t smoke here.” He stopped short recognizing Drax. Under his black leather cap, what used to be grey beard had gone completely white and was now pointed and quite long. His bald head had had a buzzed crown around the sides, but he’d let that grow long, too, so the wispiest of white hair hung over his shoulders. Black circles sagged under his eyes. He’d once worn glasses but now they were absent. Instead his dark eyes were ghostly pale with thick cataracts. He hacked a loud, phlegmatic cough as Manetti approached. “Bourbon neat, barkeep,” he said. “We got a backyard bar for smoking,” Manetti said under his breath cautiously. Though Drax looked infirmed, he knew a wounded snake was a more dangerous one. He gave Drax a once over, checked what he could to ascertain if anything were holstered under his leather coat. It didn’t look like he was packing, but you never knew with Drax. He’d surprised many a wary adversary. He shot a glance to Duke and Bobo, a little afraid for them if things suddenly went south. “We’re getting close to last call. How ‘bout I get us a bottle and we talk out back?” he offered Drax. The old man luxuriated in his cigarette, picking off a shred of tobacco from the left side of his split reptilian tongue. Manetti had forgotten that tongue. Drax took a long drag and blew a large plume into the stale barroom air. “Not cool, man,” Duke pronounced from the center of the bar, waving his hand in front of his face as if from that distance he was bothered by the smoke. Manetti raised a scolding finger at Duke. Don’t! the finger and Manetti’s scowl warned him. Duke usually would take that up as challenge and start arguing with Manetti, but something told him to stand down. He clamped his pie hole and instead blinked at Bobo. Bobo took out a nail file and glanced a disconcerting look at Mike. “These San Francisco street whores—little pansy ass lung fairies, aren’t they,” Drax said to Manetti. He turned his head only slightly, not bothering to look at Duke but making sure he knew he was talking to him. “Fuck you, cunt,” he said in his gnarly voice. “Hey, now!” said Bobo alarmed and angry, pointing her nail file at the old man. “No C-word in my joint.” Manetti sauntered back to Bobo and Duke. “Hey kids. This is an old acquaintance of mine,” Manetti said. “Sweetie, would you mind watching the door till closing? I’m going out back so he can finish his smoke. If anyone else comes tell ‘em I’m out back,” he said and kissed Bobo’s rouged cheek. “Night, Chief,” he said to Duke. “You be good, ya hear me.” He held up that warning finger again, and gave them both his reassuring shark-tooth smile. He knocked Duke’s chin, friendly-like, with his knuckles. Duke sheepishly grinned. Who didn’t have a crush on Manetti? *** The back patio had a little straw tiki bar with two bar stools. Mike set Drax’s glass and his on the bamboo surface and poured generous amounts of Four Roses in each. He set down the bottle, picked up his glass and waited. Off in the harbor a plaintiff foghorn wailed. Drax came out hobbling with a cane. He limped along favoring his right hip. The patio bar was perched on the side of a hill. Several picnic tables were scattered about, barstools lined the railings overlooking a deserted alley far below. Manetti positioned himself in back of the tiki bar and Drax slid onto one of the stools. Drax flicked his ash on the floor, hooked his cane on the bar ledge, and set down his lighter and pack of Camels next to his bourbon. “You grow a beard?” he asked squinting. Manetti nodded yes, running his fingers over it. “This your place then, huh,” he said to Manetti with an undercurrent of disbelief and maybe a little envy. Drax’s eyes were fixed on the bartender, his former stable boy, now spouting a few grey hairs in his unruly auburn mop. Drax’s near-blind eyes shined luminous in the gloom. “Ben and mine,” Manetti answered. He picked up Drax’s Camels, took one out. He plucked Drax’s smoke from his fingers and lit his from it. He handed him back his cigarette. “Long time, MD. How’d you know we were here?” “It's an odd thing,” Drax began in an effete manner, flicking his wrist exaggerated by his cigarette. It was completely discordant with his nature, so against his butch, hard guy character, yet a very spot on mimicry. “But anyone who disappears is said to be seen in San Francisco.” He brought his fingers to his lips and puffed. Manetti gave a smile in recognition. “Master Drax quotes Oscar Wilde. A sign of the apocalypse,” Manetti snorted, taking a hit off his own smoke. Drax curled his lips displaying a gummy smile. Manetti exhaled into the overhead fog. “And then Wilde exclaimed,” speaking in his own mincing voice, “It must be a delightful city and possess all the attractions of the next world.” Drax took a sip of bourbon. “I haven’t seen any evidence of that yet,” he said, “but give me a day. I only arrived tonight.” He approved of the bourbon and took a bigger swig. “When’d you get so fucking literary?” Manetti took a long drag. He’d quit smoking when they were at sea, but tonight was a special occasion. The cool air and the warm smoke had a familiar sensation. It provoked some relished, decadent, post sex memories. He took another hit, felt the nicotine work its magic, salving the undercurrent of nervousness being back in Drax’s presence. He’d always been charmed and at the same time repulsed by the man; tonight was no different. “Taking a couple of night classes at City College, finishing my degree.” “Hm,” grunted Drax. He paused thinking back. “You were on scholarship at NYU ages ago, weren’t you?” Drax asked. “Afore you became just another burnout.” “I was on a wrestling scholarship back then, yeah.” Manetti drew deeply from his glass. “I was working out some issues. But I’m back now. It’s cheap. I’m getting a degree in English literature next year. Lot of good it’ll do me working here,” he laughed. “Hm,” Drax grunted again. “You trying to impress me?” He fidgeted on his stool. “It’s cold for fucking July,” he groused. “Welcome to San Francisco,” Manetti responded. “Drink up, it’ll warm you. Might even thaw you a bit.” Smoking brought out a sense of security. He went on, “I’m working on something that might interest you. Working with Bobo on it. Besides being one of the best bartenders around, she’s a great lyricist. You met her inside.” The bourbon was loosening him up, warming his gut. “Maybe you knew him when he bartended at The Mineshaft. He was Carlos back then. Big dockworker type. Large black horseshoe mustache?” Drax looked at him blankly. “Well, I remembered him.” Drax downed the rest of his drink, then plunked down the glass. “Too hard to tell,” his said, pointing to his head. “All that big hair.” “We’re collaborating, she and I,” Manetti said. He raised his hand eliciting a marque. “Mineshaft, the Musical,” he said with a flourish. Drax crowed hard once, while Manetti refilled his glass. Drax crushed out his cigarette, drifted in reflection, studying the dying smoke. “Hm.” He rolled thoughts over. Manetti watched the old man’s pale eyes flutter. It was dark out here. Fog lowering. Getting dank, too. Drax looked up and tried to scan Manetti’s face in the dingy light. Mike saw his former director, confessor and pimp, shiver. Manetti, too, was cold, wearing his usual bar uniform: white t-shirt, jeans, leather vest. He flipped on an overhead heater. It cast both of them in a devilish orange light. The heat lamp sizzled, chewing on the fog as it warmed them both. The foghorn softly moaned again. “I remember,” Drax finally began after taking a sip, “taking Benjamin to the Mineshaft for the first time.” He lit another cigarette. It triggered a bout of hacking and a prolonged, phlegmatic rumbling. It ended with him spitting phlegm onto the ground. He paused for a second, then took another hit off his cigarette, and ruminated for quite a while lost in thought. “Hm,” he said, looking off in a middle distance. “He only had been in the city a year. He was still so cherry. Hadn’t taken a fist, hadn’t done scat or been whipped, he’d only been pissed on once but hadn’t drank from the tap yet. You don’t want to rush a boy. Good pornography, it’s best when it records discoveries. We’re born like a rock with all these rough edges,” he said swirling around the contents of his glass. “Life wears you down. But you don’t want to smooth a boy down all at once. One step at a time down that long descending staircase. If you can, you capture that moment when a synapse fires off, that shows he actually likes it, whatever kink it is, that’s what make your viewer shoot his load. Yeah, sure, it’s also that big throbbing dick, but it’s also that spark of recognition. That identification. And sometimes to get it, you need to go off script. Plant some seeds. See what’s in the boy’s true nature.” Drax flicked his ash, stared at his ember. Took a long draw sucking in his hollow cheeks. “So this night, it’s the night of the blackout of ’77, July. It’s sweltering hot in his apartment, we’re naked and dripping in sweat. I wanted him to learn to take a fist. I just slammed him for a second time, but we were getting nowhere. Been shoving big dildos and plugs up his ass, he was begging for them, shoving ones bigger than my hand, but when my fingers touched his hole?” Drax demonstrated for Manetti Ben’s tightly clenched butthole with his closed fist. “My experience, a good slam fixes that, but not Ben, not that night. Then the blackout happens, power goes out in the apartment and you might as well call it quits. Except we’re both higher than fuck, and I tell him, put on your jock and those chaps, I’m taking you somewhere. We usually didn’t go out in public. Some men recognized him, mostly from vanilla stuff that first year. Spreads in the soft core rags, beach boy, long hair surfer, jacking. Pics of him playing with his hole. Some with other pretty boys. He preferred boys his own age he could dominate. He was still skinny, tall though, aggressive with my other twink bottoms. Slapped them around some, nothing too violent, more bossy, really. Naturally verbal I was discovering. Bit of a nasty streak if you wanna know the truth. Had a real foul mouth when he got started. Loved when he got his bottom confessing to being his fucktard bitch,” Drax chuckled. “Said he got it from his stepdad.” “Chris’ real dad,” Manetti injected. “Ben’s stepdad. He used to beat Chris mercilessly.” “Yeah?” Drax paused interested, curious, mulled it over. “I could see that.” He gave Manetti a harsh once over, then pulled on his cigarette, letting the smoke drift out his teeth as he spoke. “So we ride in the cab seeing there this blackout going on all over the city, wasn’t just the fuses in the building. We pass a Walgreens being looted, I don’t know, old men carrying out cartons of cigarettes, six-packs, old ladies with shopping carts full of boxes of clothespin and plastic tablecloths, the strange things people do. Plastic flowers piled in their shopping carts. We pass a couple of cars on fire on Broadway and Eighth, both of us high as shit. We’re in this real-life Hieronymous Bosch painting. Are we really seeing these things? Maybe we are. Guys breaking into the Crazy Eddies store, a dog running up the Six Avenue by itself, no street lights of course, so the driver takes it easy. We get to Washington Street, there’s cops lined up. Ben’s afraid ‘cause of the cops. I have to convince him they’re just dress-up cops, club customers waiting to get in. We get out, climb the stairs past leather men, policemen, denim cowboys, we push up the line ‘cause Wally’s at the ropes and he sees me and takes one look at this beautiful boy I have in chaps and a jock, and opens the rope right up. We’re walking around the bar and I’m holding his leash. I got him to cut his hair that week. Made him get a Mohawk, I thought it’d be fun.” Manetti almost snorted his bourbon through his nose. “You’re shittin’ me. Ben let you give him a Mohawk?” he said. “Of course he didn’t. You think he’d ever go for that, the little priss. But I did get him to cut it shorter. Much better. He twern’t at the beach no more, were he? Dorothy ain’t in Kansas.” “Guess not,” said Manetti. He poured himself another glass and stole another of Drax’s smokes. Drax didn’t seem to care, but he did notice. “So of course there’s no lights or music in the club ‘cause it’s the fuckin’ blackout of nineteen seventy-seven! We’re in the middle of this sweltering heatwave, Son of Sam’s on the loose knocking couples off, and Ben’s making his debut at The Mineshaft on my leash, struttin’ around in his jockstrap and chaps, and I got everyone salivating. Boy don’t yet know his worth, but the men do. The bar’s all lit up by a thousand candles. Men all murmuring. It’s like a fucking church, which is exactly what The Mineshaft is actually. Am I right? It’s hotter than shit so I have Ben strip, which he’s high but a little reluctant to do right out in public, but I strip and others are walking around naked, so what the fuck. He asks sort of innocently, what kind of bar is this? Not a bar, son, I say. Let’s go down those stairs, I tell him. We leave the second floor bar, go down naked to the first floor and he’s like a kid in a candy store. His eyes are wide, his pupils like black saucers, and I see he’s hungry for what the store has to offer. There’s glory holes, rim seats, slings, but what does that sick pup pick up on first? There a spotlight and a bunch of men surrounding the spotlight. Of course he’s drawn to it. We go over, and the light’s focused on a bathtub. Two guys are in it getting pissed on by all the men standing around it. He begs me to let him get in. I unleash him, and he runs over naked wearing just his dog collar, making his way through a sea of naked or semi-naked men in harnesses, all their cocks waving, and he climbs in and gets on his knees. More men come over to get a load of this new dirty blond hunk, this gorgeous piece of fresh meat, and of course they want to piss all over him, mark him. He opens his mouth and consumes shit loads of their piss. One short Asian guy nuzzles up to him with his big black bush, and Ben learns to drink from dick, then he takes this black guy’s Johnson and sucks out his piss till the guy’s empty. He can’t get enough drinking piss, piss, piss, piss, piss, and wallowing under the spotlight doing it. No telling what bonus chems are in those streams, but he’s certainly changed after that. He’s a wild man the rest of the night. Hyped and wired.” Drax’s eyes are glowing, the orange reflecting off the white, like a red-eye photograph. He, too, looks to Manetti like a wild man, not really here, but in the past, a blind seer, watching Ben decades before soaking in piss, riding the limelight in that tub. Drax takes a sip to fortify the memory. “And then this big muscled cop, or a guy in a jockstrap wearing a cop’s shirt, pulls him out. I think he’s going to fuck the shit out of the kid, this big stud cop, but the cop finds an empty sling, pulls Ben with him, and then flops back in the sling himself, and slides his big jackboots through the sling’s leg straps. I pull up next to him to see what Ben’s gonna do. He’s wet, smells acrid from the piss, short hair slicked back—never looked better—asks the guy if he’s a real cop. The guy, in a low voice, admits he is—he’s the real deal! The fucker should have been out protecting the city but he’s here, looks high, waiting for Ben to bone him. Seeing he’s a real cop, Ben pops an instant stiffy. It’s saluting at full attention, with veins so hard around his thick shaft they look like crawling worms, for fuck sake. Men around him notice. I notice. He sticks his engorged meat in the guy in one balls-deep thrust, buries himself right up to his brown curlies. The guy yells to let him get use to his big fuckstick, and more guys come over hearing that. It’s all shadows and flickering candles, and what your eyes can’t see, your brain fills in. Fuck, man, the sounds they make. Not human sounds. Animalistic. Some ritual not even I understand is going on between cop and his former prey, between victim and abuser—rolls reversed. He’s fucking someone in his past, or a group of someones, I can tell, ‘cause whatever motivates him out of his past he’s taking it out on this cop in the sling, right here, right now—and it’s something fuckin’ brutally beautifully. It has all the sounds of a rape but let me tell you the cop is absolutely into it. His ass ain’t never had a Big Ben in it before and he’s enjoying the shit out of it. It ain’t a bottom and a top going at it. It’s a top being fucked by an über-top. That’s what The Mineshift spawned, the original anti-Eden: not butches doing fems, but the homomasculine submitting to the Über-masculine. We’re in Tom of Finland territory. Ben rips the cop’s shirt open, fucking him blindly, pinching the shit out of his big cop tits. They’re exchanging snarls, gorilla grunts, and Fuck Yous, and he’s releasing on the cop’s ass a lifetime of stored up rage. He climaxes shooting all over the guy’s uniform and in his face, but isn’t done with him yet. No sir. He’s got the whole corner of the room captivated. He shouts, Crisco, putting his hand out like he’s waiting for a stagehand. He’s in command. He truly is. He’s sweating profusely from the meth, and whatever chem piss is running through his system, and someone puts a wad of grease in his hand. Ben lubes his fist and doesn’t go gently into that good night. No sir. He pulls up next to the cop’s face, pushes his still hard, shit-crusted cock in the cop’s mouth, and pushes his clutched fist into the guy’s ass. Not a gooseneck hand to start, but the full magilla, his big clutched fist plunges into the guy’s gut. You can almost hear it go pop. There’s this loud fart of air as Ben pulls all the way out afore he pushes back in. The cop’s gagging on his cock from its girth as he’s struggling with the force of Ben’s arm pumping straight into his chute.” “Jesus,” Manetti said. “That’s what the cop is crying. Jesus Chris, slow down, man! he’s shouting, but Ben’s not listening to any of that shit. Not that he’s punch fucking the guy violently. No. He’s standing next to him, making him suck his shitty cock, pistoning him slowly but deep into this big cop’s ass like he’s kneading a big vat of dough. In, out. Stroke after stroke, sending the guy into both heaven and hell at the same time. Then they’re not even talking anymore, just Ben silently watching the cop’s anguished-exhilarated face, watching what he’s doing to the man, what effect he’s having on this cop he’s turned into a meat puppet. All the while the cop’s nursing Big Ben like an infant suckin’ on his mama’s teet. It gets quieter the deeper Ben pushes in his arm. Swear to God, it got as solemn as a church service. Wasn’t a cop and a top anymore. More biblical, priest administering to a penitent, more like it. Like the agony he’d put the man through came out the other side and he was now tending to him, fist going in deeper and pulling out. A part of the cop’s colon comes with it, big ol’ prolapse, probably the first one Ben ever saw. Didn’t bother him, got him hard again, he just pushes it back in and goes deeper. Wants to see how much gut he can pull out of the guy. Men gathered around, some stroking, some just watching in wonder, trying to fathom what the story is between this naked holy man and the supplicant. When Ben forced the man to cum, and forced him he did if you saw his face…” Drax said. “I’ve seen that face,” Manetti confirmed. “Well, then, you know how Ben is when he’s in charge. The cop cums all over his uniform, his chest, over his face, shoots over his head. Rope after rope of cum. Men fall to their knees to worship this new priest among them, some fell to the cop’s ass and chewed on his spent prolapse, all wanted Ben to do to them what he’d just done to the cop. They lick Ben’s feet, like he’s fuckin’ Jesus coming out the desert, kiss his thighs, lick his ass, stick their tongues inside his anus, suck on his armpit, whatever Ben offered raising up his arms to his new flock. Three at a time are under him worshiping his cock, balls, and taint. The cop slowly gets out of the sling, shaking his head, pushing his prolapse back in, trying to figure out where the fuck he’s been for the last hour, and I come with a can of grease and lay Ben back down in the sling, in front of this group of envious men. I lock his arms over his head and hand the cop a bottle of strong poppers to administer to him, then I buckle the strap holding Ben’s feet high in the air. He’s spread eagle with men groping his body like a holy relic. I lube my hand and take a good scoop of Crisco and start pushing it into the boy’s ass. I do this a couple of times so there’s a lot inside him when I start pushing two fingers in his slippery chute. He’s as tight as he’s ever been but he’s also rock hard. You want this, I tell him. Tell me how much you want this, I say. Please, Master, he begs, put your arm inside me. I slide in three, then four fingers. Stop fighting me I say at him. Give him a hit, I tell the cop. I’m getting pissed if he don’t let me fist him this time, with this audience. The cop bends the kid’s head over the bottle and lets him huff all he wants. He breathing in the bottle for a while afore he lets his head fall back against the leather. I can feel now not only has his ass relaxed, he’s trying, as much as he can tied up, to slide down the sling on my hand. I don’t even have to push in. His hole is opening and his weight is falling over the edge of the sling onto my hand on its own accord. And then I’m in and still sliding deeper without me having to do anything. He’s yelling Oh Fucks the deeper I go. But I gotta tell you: too much is made over the trust a bottom must have from his top. Bullshit I say. Fisting comes out of the school of S&M, and giving the bottom control of the scene ruins it. Fisting was created as a form of punishment as much as it was a form of control. I tell the cop to give him another hit. He does and I’m taking the boy for a ride he won’t forget. My hand comes out and goes back in a second time in the form of a fist. He’s struggling to accept the width but I won’t budge until he lets me in. From sheer pressure he pops open but not without a cry of distress. Good, I tell him, that feeling is what you can expect for the next hour. And that’s exactly what I give him, no merciful, sensual assplay, but forced punching of his anus until its lips hang loose and sloppy. The red of his colon starts to show after a while. His first night fisting and I’m developing this beautiful small rose. Push out, I yell at him. It’s a pretty pink flower for all to see. I clear some of the Crisco so the men around can see it better. Someone goes down and licks it, giving the kid the first taste of what getting his rosebud eaten feel like. He’s loving it. I go for depth after the first hour. Each time he takes a hit from the cop I’m pushing in deeper before the chemicals have an impact so that when they do I can push him even further. The cop asks if he can take over for a while, Ben becomes afraid, begs me no. Did I ask you? I say to him. Sure. Have at it. And the cop, with his big hairy paws, is plunging into him. I make the boy suck my dick while the cop is exacting revenge on the boy’s sphincter. The cop’s even slipping in a couple of additional fingers while he’s alternating hands in the kid’s ass. He’s almost got two hands in but I see pink in the grease on the cop’s forearms so I have him pullout. I don’t want him damaged. He relinquishes him, but not without one last deep punch, sending Ben’s head flinging back in agony. His suffering is my aphrodisiac. I’m dripping, so I slowly and savagely fuck him. Hours—you been at my receiving end afore, so you know—hours reaming him in chem-filled lust. No need for a bathroom break ‘cause I got my toilet attached to my cock. Besides the chem-piss makes him even more of a whore. Around daybreak, as most all the candles have burnt out, it’s now almost pitch black inside, you can see some outside daylight in the cracks, the last two or three flickering candles are fading, so Ben can’t really see but only feel my cock inside him. I slide my hand in next to my cock, which has been tenderizing him in the last of the wee hours. I wrap my fingers in a fist and piston my cock. He don’t know what he’s getting but the whore likes it. In the cavernous dark as the last candles go out, men are kissing him, nursing his nipples, sucking his cock. And he’s moaning, speaking in tongues, is tweaking on another plane, sucking on other cocks being fed to him, asses bent over for him to eat, and I jack my spooge inside my fist inside him. He’s blathering invites to anyone around him to fist his hole. He’s where I want him. He turns me on so hard, so broken, so open, and I let other guys fist and fuck him, watching along the wall, drinking my beer. “Drax, you fuck,” Manetti said. “He’s struggling under a brutal Neanderthal, fucking his insides out. Ben the boy is suddenly gone, surrendered, arms hanging off the sides of the sling. Taking it, accepting it, a martyr to sex. I bend over and ask him why he’s suddenly surrendered. He whimpers, Hunters got me trapped, Daddy, I can’t escape. I’m lost. Cops got me in a back alley. He’s lost in his past or his fantasy, it’s taken him over. He’s biting his lip. Four more men fuck him and four more fist him. I’m kissing him while they do, telling him accept what he is, just a hole for men to use as their cumrag. Then I see his hole drooling a steady, cloudy white stream of men’s seed, all pooling on the floor under his ass. I know I want back inside that warm, wet cave. I fuck my baby well into the day. Daddy’s got you, I tell him, won’t ever let you go. Then around noon the harsh club lights flickers back on. The blackout’s over. I don’t know how many times I shot into him. I know he shot wads more. Did he remember? Probably half of it. We go out into the daylight, blinded, looking to hail a cab. Butchers right next door to The Mineshaft, in their bloody white aprons, haul in large stabs of meat. Ben looks like just another one of their carcasses. I fold him into the backseat of a gypsy cab. Like one of the many hanging carcasses we ride away from, I look at him, his head’s back, he’s staring at the cab’s cloth ceiling talking to himself. This big human carcass of meat, flecked with viscera across his chest, his and many others—he’s a rock now as smooth as I want him.” Silence falls between Drax and Manetti. Fog veils the alley from sight. They both sip bourbon. Drax’s cigarette was a stub, had long ago gone out. Drax looks at the cigarette butt in his hand with his white eyes, and sets it in the ashtray. “Best fuck of my life,” he says, downing his second drink. *** He’s fumbling with his cigarettes and lighter. He knocked one out of the pack. His lighter shook in an unsteady hand. He’s unable to aim the flame under his cigarette, so Manetti reached over and steadied his hand, and Drax managed to get it lit. Manetti considered the man on the other side of the tiki bar. Sure, it’s the orange heat light and the backlit fog that created the illusion, but Drax wears the expression of a weary demon or maybe a withered angel; some hybrid of bliss and torment. He, Manetti’s, had witnessed that ecstatic tortured look, that rapture, firsthand whenever Drax was cumming inside him over the year he spent in his stable. This suspension between extremes, this balance between worlds; no wonder Ben stuck around more than a decade. Moth to a flame, night after night. It had its draw. “So,” said Manetti, rolling his ember in the ashtray. The glass ashtray’s imprinted with The Plan B Bar, the name he and Ben chose. He’s pretty sloshed by now, as is Drax, who’s smoking with exaggerated control. “How’d you really find us?” Manetti asked a second time, refilling his glass. Drax covered his emotions with each cloud of smoke he exhaled. “Read this article in Wired back when I could read,” Drax said. “Don’t look shocked. I read sometimes.” Drax took up his drink, swirled it, and gave it a small sip. “There was this article, a profile of a kid, called himself Alistair Enge. Didn’t want to give out his real name to the magazine. ‘Fraid his mama’d find out, I suppose. He started a porn site, the article said, e-commerce, premium subscriptions, whatnot. It claimed it was changing the face of porn. No photo of this new face of porn, but I said to myself, Drax, you old fuck,” he flicked his ash, “where you hear that name afore?” He paused long enough to take a drag. “Then I remembered your pirate story from back in the day. When was that, Michael? Eleven, twelve years ago?” Manetti thought for a second, stoking his beard, a few strands of grey now blending in. “Twelve years,” he says. “Well, I thought to go ask my friends Boris and Roger—they’re still together, if you’re wondering. Wallace died though. Pity, nice pooch. I asked my old friends Boris and Roger, I said, hey Boris, hey Roger, what you’d ever do with that boat. What was its name?” “We bought it. The Jolly Roger.” “The Jolly Roger, yes.” He swirled his drink again and sipped a little more urgently. “So this is yours and Ben’s establishment. What about Chris, or is it Alistair now?” Drax held his cigarette to his mouth, sucked hard on the tip, smoke curling around his tattooed knuckles, H-A-T-E. “Yeah, we own it. Chris has his own thing going, has a crew of programmers and managers, sales, regulatory, things like that. But Ben and I run this.” He hit his cigarette and blew smoke out forcefully threw his nose. “What made you think of the boat?” he asked. “Alistair—the new face of porn—said he’d spent several years sailing with his family around the Caribbean before Stanford. Family,” Drax scoffed bitterly. “Three of you, huh? How does that work?” “Works quite well,” Manetti replied, taking a last hit from his cigarette and then stamped it out. “So MD. You came all the way out here to…?” Manetti let the question hang. Drax let it dangle. “Shame about Bichon, but I suppose karma has a way of catching up to even the best of us, wouldn’t you say, Michael?” Drax’s ghostly eyes looked accusingly at him. The patio’s becoming darker each minute by the encroaching fog. “So, how’s tricks, boy-o? Turned any lately?” Manetti returned a cold smile. “No, man. Lifetime ago,” he said, calmly sipping his drink. “Very happily married. Proud owner of The Plan B, which we live above.” He pointed to a lit window over them. “Part-time bartender, full-time husband.” “Not even a nibble?” “Not even a taste.” “I have to say, when you three ran off, a third of my stable initially went with it. That took a big hit on my livelihood. To tell you the God’s honest truth, devastated my livelihood, completely. Put me right out of business.” Manetti considered this. He tipped the glass to his lips, swallowed. “Never had much overhead, MD,” he said a bit confused. “Hard to see how that could’ve impacted you in any meaningful way.” “Meaningful.” Drax tries the word in his mouth. “Meaningful. Full of meaning.” In the feeble light he searched Manetti’s face through his cataracts. “You tell me, Michael, what meaning is there when a usurper comes and steals your favored boy, the only boy you want, and gets away clean? I’ll tell you what that means. It means the rest of the stable sees there’s no repercussion for abandonment, and the whole stable dismantles, the tower crumbles.” “Hold on,” Manetti said, brows tightly knit. “I’m supposed to feel sorry for getting away from you? You cut off my cock, fucker, planted a pussy on me, and I’m the one that should feel guilty about what happens to you?” He barked a mirthless laugh. “The night of the fire you’re lucky Ben and Chris talked me out of tracking you down. I would have been much more medieval on you than I was to the good doctor.” Drax pulled out another cigarette from his pack. He wasn’t done with the first and tried to light the new one from the old, but his hand shook too much to get it lit. Manetti just watched him struggle, feeling no pity, only disgust. Drax finally got his Camel to light and blew out an enormous stream of smoke. “Truth is, you were damaged long before I met you, Michael. I just removed the damaged part I saw that was rotting away.” Manetti grabbed the old man’s shirt across the bar, and pulled him partially over the bamboo top. He cocked back his other arm in a fist but not before Drax pulled out a snub nose pistol from his pocket. Manetti saw the gun, dropped him and took a step back. “Whoa, whoa,” he said, hands where Drax could see them. He’s making no fast moves but his brain is racing. “So,” he ventured, seeing if he could tamp down the situation, “you come cross-country just to kill me because, what, you miss Ben? Mineshaft closed more than ten years ago, Drax. Boys grow up. Birds fly from the nest.” “I came for the one point eight million you stole,” Drax hissed. Manetti’s hands are still in the air. “Okay,” he conceded. “Fair enough. You’re owed that. We can more than cover it.” “And for stealing Ben,” Drax spits. “Can you cover that?” Manetti didn’t have a comeback. Manetti’s heart was racing. “No, you’re right, you’re right.” Drax had him in a corner, emotionally, logically, physically. “I fucked you over. I’m sorry. You have every right.” But then, finding himself cornered, he felt a spark of anger he couldn’t hold back. “So castration isn’t enough,” he said darkly, “you have to off me, is that it?” Drax looked out through his white glowing eyes and slowly, viciously nodded yes. Manetti looked down, thoughtful, then looked at his drink. Looked at Drax. Saw nothing but the cold, dead eyes of a shark. “So I guess, cheers, to my rotten life, then, huh?” He’s pleading, reaching slowly for his drink, hoping Drax will grant him a dead man’s right for a last fortifying drink. Drax gave him a gummy smile. “Go ahead, boy-o. On the house,” he said, pulling back the gun’s hammer. Manetti raised this glass, saluted Drax, and then tossed the alcohol in Drax’s face. Drax fired and hit Manetti, but Manetti snatched his lighter, flicked the wheel, and put the flame to the old man’s long beard. The alcohol ignited his doused beard, face and hair, and Drax’s whole head, right up to his eyebrows, lit into one giant flame. He’s reeling back, a human matchstick. He’s screaming, slapping his head, stumbling, wobbling blindly all over the patio. He’s firing at empty air, senseless of where he was. Manetti smacked the gun out of his hand and kept pushing him back, again and again, toward the railing. Drax was still screaming, clutching his head, consumed in fire. At the railing, Manetti gave him a final tap, not even that hard, and the old man flew downward into the alley, landed head first with a snap. Bobo and Duke ran out soon after the gunshots. Mike was holding his shoulder by the railing, peering over at something. Bobo rushed to Mike to see the extent of his wound, while Duke gazed down, inspecting the singed, smoldering figure, its arms and legs bent out at unnatural angles, sprawled over the asphalt. Duke turned to Mike grimly, “I told you smoking could kill you.” *** Chris danced in front of Manetti, with Ben looking on encouragingly. Manetti tried not to smile. The ocean was calm, the harbor breeze warm. The night sky was a dome of lights, moonless. Chris was feeling good, a bit buzzed. He swayed his hips close to Mike perched on his barstool. Chris reached up to the top button of Mike’s flowered shirt. “Bamba la bamba,” he sang. “No,” said Manetti. Chris unbuttoned it anyway. He reached for the second button. “C’mon, knock it off,” Mike said batting Chris’ hand away. Chris went back and undid the second button and reached in his hand and felt Manetti’s massive, fur-covered chest. He leaned in and lightly brushed his lips, felt his scruffy dark beard. Manetti started breathing unevenly. Chris kissed him slowly, purposefully, sensually. Manetti relaxed, for the first time letting down his guard. Chris pulled away with a spark in his eye, undoing the flowered shirt’s last button revealing the man’s entire black pelt. Ben was behind him and removed the Hawaiian shirt and placed it on the bar. He kissed Manetti’s right shoulder, then his left, then the nape of his neck. He threaded his hands around Manetti’s chest, feeling his warmth and his racing heart. Chris grasped the man’s belt and Manetti stood up quickly and pushed Chris away. “I can’t,” he cried. “No. Don’t,” he pleaded. Chris got on his knees and unlatched the belt, started lowering the zipper. Manetti was never one for underwear, so when the shorts fell, he stood on the deck naked, exposed for all the world see. Chris bent in and kissed Manetti’s regrown bush, his soft black hair, brushed it delicately with his fingertips, drew a line along the soft pink lips. “Stop,” Manetti gasped. “It just a cunt.” “Not just, it’s you,” the young man said. “You is who I want.” He put his face between Manetti’s legs, breathed him in, licked Manetti. The unfamiliar sensation caused the man to heave a monumental breath, brought a sigh of pleasure but also one of confusion. Shaking he stepped back off balanced. Ben was there to catch him. Manetti felt weak, fought against his frailty. Turning his vulnerability to strength, he steeled himself, grabbing Chris and Ben by their hands and pulling them forcefully down to the master cabin. There he ripped off Chris shirt and tore off the boy’s pants, then combatively, ripped the buttons off Ben’s shirt, held his head forcefully, and sucked his face like he’d been wanting to every day for the past six months. Ben, still locked onto Manetti’s lips, slipped off his shorts. Chris came over and stuck his face close to theirs. Manetti pulled back as Chris kissed Ben’s bent forehead, then as Ben looked up at his brother, Chris kissed his cheek. Ben found Chris’ mouth, and slid his tongue over his brother’s tongue. Both men were erect, which Manetti took full advantage of. He suck his lover’s massive member, then his brother’s smaller but still generous meat. He stuck both their cocks in his mouth and tortured them, rubbing their cockheads against each other, sliding his tongue around them, making them leak in arousal. He grabbed some bedside lube and rubbed it on Chris and Ben erections, then on his front lips and between his cheeks. He positioned himself on his side pulling Chris down with him. Ben laid down in back. Manetti eased his butt, like so many times in the past, against Ben protruding erection. Ben’s stiff and metal adorned organ slowly slid inside Manetti, familiar and so welcome. Chris faced Mike and held his cock at Mike’s new lips and looked in his eyes. Mike gave him a smile of permission, and Chris slowly, sensually parted Mike’s virginal lips. Chris rubbed his dick up and down, rhythmically finding he could part Mike’s body. Mike helped by rocking back on Ben’s cock, allowing it to penetrate him deeply, then rocked forward to take a bit, an inch, then two, of Chris’s cock. There was electricity in the dark cabin, palpable breath on a face, on a neck, mouth against mouth, inhalations and exhalations exchanged. A painful tearing of skin, slowly, erotically. Of all the collective torture they’d been through, this was the most protracted and agonizing. Like a band aid slowly being ripped off, one cell at a time. Tension and desire continually traded places, body parts awash in lubricants, smoothly flowing, painfully, exhilaratingly, new sensations every second between three men who found they were heading into unexplored territory. Mike felt the violation of his organ, both past and present, ravishing him, making him loose control. Once past the initial pain, at first the pleasure was too intense, but the allure of submitting to two men stroking inside his body, became intensely satisfying. Then, after accepting the satisfaction, he recognized he could invert it. Suddenly he felt more in control of them than they were of him. Writhing between them, he was in charge of their pleasure. He controlled their body’s rhythm, granting them unending satisfaction through his rhythmic, velvety undulations, granting them the pleasure they sought within his body. Chris whispered almost inaudible, “Oh, fuck Ben. I feel you.” Their faces so close together not a breath escaped detection by any of them. The three shared this discovering. “I feel you, too, brah,” said Ben deep inside Mike. The closer he drew into Mike, the more Ben’s cock pressed against a wall that barely separated him from his brother. Ben withdrew and slid in deep with each stroke, not only thrilling Mike but also erotically rubbed under Chris’ cockhead. Not one of the three of them saw this coming. They gasped at the orchestra of sensation flowing through their bodies, the variety of pitch and crescendos they could produce. Chris was almost in to his balls, when Manetti cried out in pain. They halted abruptly. They caught their collective breath. No one moved. Chris slowly eased all the way out fearing he’d damaged Mike. But the look on Manetti’s face showed how amorous he still felt, how much he wanted Chris back inside. Ben never left Mike’s ass. One of life’s greatest feelings for Manetti was having Ben’s full python buried deeply inside him. He nudged Ben until Ben fell onto his back pulling Manetti along with him. Then Manetti rocked on top of him, rising forward to impale himself in a squatting position. He bobbed in a wave of lust against his lover’s groin, sending waves of pleasure careening through both their bodies. He smiled lewdly at Chris, his hands parting his new lips, inviting the young man to come back in. Mike fingering his twat was an obscene gesture that excited the fuck out of Chris. He knelt like he was in church in front of the holy alter of Mike, as Mike reclined back spreading his legs, fall back onto Ben’s chest. Chris slipped in cautiously, but increasingly giving into his arousal, his desire to fuck Manetti as deeply and as hard as he could. Chris never imagined he could share in such a complicated arrangement, of boomeranging and ricocheting needs and lust-filled desires. He made out with Mike as his cock rocked inside the man, then found his brother’s face alongside Mike and satisfied his forbidden, incestuous appetite, discovering how deep within Mike he could fuck against his brother’s hard, massive cock. How could they know how good this would feel, how tangled their emotions would entwined, how bound together their souls would become? They united in the moment, tonight, tomorrow, for a lifetime. Manetti felt the brothers shudder together, felt how wet he suddenly was, leaking out both sides of his body as the brothers continued to quake. And somewhere within, sliding against his core, against his body’s tectonic plates, a quake overtook him too, pulled him over a vista and he could see how this could all work out. He shuddered in gratification of the corruption and purity of this comingling of brothers cumming within him at this moment. They gasped, all breathing unevenly, laid there motionless except for the rising and falling of their chests. Chris was the first to make a move, cascading them all to the side, all still holding each other for dear life. Had this even a chance of continuing? Just because it hadn’t been done before it still could be done. It’d be messy and complicated. They’d expect no understanding from others. Gee, didn’t that already sound all too familiar? Chris and Mike looked at each other with faces radiating satiation, Ben kissing the swirling hairs, the soft opera of Manetti’s neck. They lay quietly for a long time. Then Mike exploded. “Alright, you fucking perverts,” he roared between them, snapping into drill sergeant mode. He quickly and rudely untangled their cocks from his body. Rising off the bed, he grabbed the grease. “Prior brothers!” he barked. “Edge of bed with your asses in the air! Now!” He greased both his hands greedily. “It’s time you boys ride the Manetti Chariot!” He smacked both their asses hard. They responded, excitedly bounding to their knees, aligning next to each other on all fours, pulling and playing with each other’s floppy cocks like naughty schoolboys, while Mike lined up his fingers against their holes. Ben draped his arm over Chris’ shoulder and Chris draped his arm over his big brother’s. “And don’t expect me to take it easy on either one of you sick fucks,” Manetti growled, plunging deep inside their cavities.

As a botom, there have been times I have taken cock raw then had second thoughts and asked the top not to cum inside me. Only once has the top listened to my request - if a bottom lets it in bare he should be prepared from that moment on to get bred.

I'm glad u like it. I have a proud to be black FB who tops me at least once a week and loves to call himself nigger and makes sure I use the word admiringly. I do telling him how much I crave and want his big nigger cock and everything nigger about him. He in turn calls me his white cum slut, white boi pussy and things like that. It gives us both a turn on to call each other like that.