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I tried to shift again to try and adjust to the massive cock stretching my hole. The sting was starting to subside, and the feeling of fullness in my rectum was beginning to turn me on. I couldn't believe I was actually enjoying being violated like this, but the masochist in me was getting off on the abuse. John slowly started to ease the pressure into me and slid his cock back slightly before fucking it in to me again. He began to gently fuck my arse. "So lets decide the stakes." John said casually as he fucked me. "If you win, I pull out as I'm going to cum. I'll shoot my poz cum on those sweet cheeks of yours. Of course, your guts will still be coated in my dirty pre-cum, but still, better chances of not converting than taking this 3 day load" he chuckled. His thick cock was starting to pick up a little momentum. It felt as if each each time he pulled it out a little more and my poor battered hole was getting pulled out with it. I nodded frantically at this, I was turned on but suddenly thinking about how dangerous this was, my hole being slimed with poz pre-cum. "Oh, you're agreeing already, and without even hearing the losing stakes. If you lose..." I heard him flip a coin. "Then I post this video to grindr, and we see how long we can have some fun today." He reached forward and placed a phone on the bench in front of me. I turned my head and saw a picture on it. My eyes widened as I saw what was presumably my arse being violated. A blood tinged cock was pulling out of a puffy arsehole above the text reading "BB bondage bottom - taking all loads." I was horrified, obviously. The idea of my recently virgin hole being filled with loads and cock from whatever random guy wanted to drop one in me was so....so.... I started to nod my head slowly, not as enthusiastically. Yeah. What were the odds I could lose again? Right? I almost convinced myself there was the slightest chance I could survive the day with catching the bug. "Alright then" John said as he fucked me. "Nod for heads. Shake for tails." I paused. I nodded my head. I felt John pause, his amazing cock poised half way into my hole. I heard him give a chuckle again and placed a coin just in front of me. As he picked up the phone with the same hand I craned to see the side facing up. Tails. I felt cold shock down my spine. There were a few seconds longer of that frozen moment before I heard John say: "Aaaand, posted." He placed his hands on the small of my back again. This time he pushed harder, arching my back and pushing my arse further up towards his crotch. The increased pressure was uncomfortable, but that was nothing compared to what happened to my hole a moment later. I thought he'd been fucking me before, sliding his cock in and out, but I realised he'd been teasing me. The invading flesh started to piston-fuck me, slamming his hips into my cheeks with a stinging slap. The sensations from my arse veered from agony to ecstasy. I closed my eyes and bit down on the gag between my teeth. The assault continued at a quick steady pace for a few more minutes. Then John firmly slammed his cock to the hilt. He growled as he ground his hips into me as I felt his cock twitch in my hole. This lasted for a moment before he fell forwards, his sweaty body lying on top of mine, both our skins slippery with sweat. His cock stayed nestled inside me. As the pain subsided I started to feel how hot and wet my hole felt. He lay that way for a few minutes, both of us panting the same hot air sharp and musky with the smell of cum and sweaty bodies. After a while he stood up and his softening cock slipped out of my hole. I could feel the air hit my wrecked hole. It felt like it was still gaping and leaking cum down my leg. I heard a unmistakable phone camera shutter noise, not even trying to hide it now. "And that pic should really get some attention on your post." John said.13 points
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Just thought I’d share my experience on Friday at IML. I haven’t been in a few years, but decided to drop into the host hotel tonight (the Congress) to check out the scene for non- attendees of the official IML events. In short, it was hot as fuck. I ended up fucking 8 guys in about 2 hours. I used Sniffies primarily with a little BBRT thrown in. Finding guys taking dick was easy. Once in the hotel, I just went to the floor and room where the bottom was, fucked him, often got sucked by him, and then consulted my apps to find the next hole. I bred two guys, with the first guy receiving quite a large load of my cum in his ass. In several rooms, there were other guys there, sometimes guys waiting to fuck, sometimes guys there to please the tops with their mouths before (and sometimes after) they fucked the bottom, and, in one room, there was a second bottom to fuck. One room had a couple who were planning to host an orgy later in the night. I fucked and rimmed the bottom and then moved on. I went back to their room, though, at the end of my night, and it was like a mini Steamworks in there — dudes fucking, sucking, in slings, on the beds, and squirting cum in and on everyone. It was a very hot scene. And it seemed like a huge part of the hotel had been taken over by horny gays. I could hear moaning and sex going on in some rooms I passed, and even saw two guys — a slim twink and a big burly bear with a huge cock — fucking right out in the hallway. I left very satisfied and satiated. I have no idea how the official parties and events at IML were, but the host hotel was hopping with testosterone tonight, and it was this top’s dream.8 points
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Chapter 1 We meet in the lobby of his hotel. I’m turned on. And nervous. I recognize him instantly. He smiles — calm, confident. There’s a subtle bulge in his pants. His poisonous cock, his desire, visible. We sit down in a quiet corner. I take the armchair. He chooses the sofa. We order water. His name is Florian. Small talk — the weather, his trip. Then he starts playing with my feet under the table. He pats the empty seat beside him. "Henning, come over here." I sit next to him. Feel his warm hand on my thigh. He leans in. Fingers lift my chin. A kiss — soft, but certain. "Let’s go upstairs, Henning." In the elevator, we kiss again. Deeper this time. His hand slides to my ass. He feels my jock-strap. Mine moves to that bulge in his pants. And yes — there’s something big waiting.7 points
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Took 5 loads yesterday while I was visiting my friend in London. Was hnh and then put on a sexy short and tank top and went on collecting loads from the nearby guys on Grindr. Had a leaky cummy hole after the last guy. When I returned to my friend's place, he felched the load from my ass and kissed me 😈and then fucked me again.. it was hot 🔥 🥵5 points
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I have an occasional fuckbuddy who breeds me every couple of months. He doesn't live in my town but when he is around he likes to leave a load in my ass. He's married to a woman I think. He never kisses me - he fucks my mouth and my ass, deposits a load in my ass, makes me clean his dick afterwards and leaves. He has a slightly above average cock that my ass can accommodate fairly easily with some lube and poppers. I got an SMS from him today asking if I was available. I said yes and we agreed a time. He replied saying he was with his 'nephew' and would I service them both. Naturally I agreed. He told me his nephew was not out so I needed to wear a blindfold. I trust my fuckbuddy as he has been reliable for a number of years so I agreed. When my doorbell rang I buzzed them in, put on the blindfold and assumed the position - kneeling on the bed with my face on the mattress and my ass in the air. Maybe they needed quick relief. When they arrived the 'nephew' (not sure he was really my fuckbuddy's nephew but I played along) commented on how old I was (to his uncle). I am 66 years old so not young. Don't worry about that, you can do what you want to him - he's obedient. The nephew unzipped his trousers and placed the most enormous uncut cock into my mouth. It smelled slightly cheesy -like he'd had a shower the day before but had taken a piss a few time. I got to work cleaning it - running my tongue under his foreskin and feeling it grow into an absolute monster cock. His uncle tongued my asshole as I sucked the younger's pole. I heard him reach for lube and felt the head of his cock plunge into me. He started a rhythmic pounding which felt good while his nephew had my head in his hand while he roughly facefucked me. I gagged on his monster cock but he didn't let up. Eventually they swapped places - I tasted my assjuices from my fuckbuddy's tool. Thankfully he had loosened my hole as the assault that was about to hit it would have been impossible. I asked for poppers which were passed to me. Even with the poppers it was a tight fit. After a few thrusts i felt my splincter expand into a sloppy open bottom the young man violated my cunt. I was just a slab of fuckmeat for them - fully blindfolded - as they took turns on my mouth and ass. The uncle suggested a double fuck. To his nephew. My consent was assumed - correctly. He rolled over onto his back with his cock still buried in my gut. My ass my in the air as is uncle slowly eased his cockhead into me. It was so tight and slighlty painful that deep thrusts were not possible. It must have felt good as in a short space of time his shot what felt like a thick load into me. He dismounted and made me suck him clean. The nephew continued his anal assault until I felt his tense up and eventually he exploded in my. His cock was too sensitive for me to clean but he shoved three fingers into my hold, scooped out a blend of cum and forced it into my mouth which I greedily swallowed. 'I told you he was good' said my fuckbuddy. 'Yeah he was pretty good' came the reply. They got dressed and quickly left. I removed the blindfold, I got an SMS 30 minutes later to say they had enjoyed themselves. I want to become the nephew's bitch. Getting a slab of meat like that in me again on a regular basis would be a very good thing.4 points
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Athlete One Joey Fernandez was sweating. A lot. His armpits were all wet. The fact that he had a thick hood over his head didn’t help. Nor the ball gag in his mouth. His hands were tightly bound to a thick leather collar which was too tight and slowed its respiration. His ankles were tied too. He couldn't move any of his limbs as he sat there panicking and sweating. His first thought was a prank. His teammates put up a prank on him. He didn’t remember anything. One second, he was sleepily sitting on the bus, the next he was gagged and bound. Joey could hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching, each one sending a wave of dread through his body. Then nothing. Silence. He jolted back when two hands grabbed and twisted his nipples through his thin uniform, pulling him up and forcing him to walk. More likely a drag than a walk. The pain inflicted on his nipples was excruciating. Tears were rolling on his cheeks down to the collar. He strained against his bindings, desperately trying to free himself, but every movement seemed to tighten the grip on his nipples. Another hand cupped his crotch, strongly squeezing his balls which caused him to jerk backward, causing more pain to his nipples as the hands, expecting such reaction, pulled forward without mercy. Slightly bent, someone was groping him and someone else was twisting his nipples. The idea of a prank vanished completely when he felt his pants pulled down from behind, exposing his narrow ass to two thick lubed fingers who found the virgin hole easily. Joey felt his first-ever non-self-inflicted orgasm from anal stimulation. The ordeal lasted barely a minute, enough time for his body to cream the jockstrap. The sensation was overwhelming. He was panting. Gone were the hands on his balls and nipples. He realized that nobody was holding him and that he was rocking himself on the fingers lodged in his ass. Only surreptitiously. *** Joey was dropped into the dimly lit bedroom on the second floor. The hood was suddenly removed followed by the gag. Mr. Marksman, his neighbor, was standing in front of him which was weird enough. But that wasn’t the weirdest. Mr. Marksman was naked, except for a leather pouch covering his bits. Marksman was a faggot. Joey knew this. Fuck, everyone knew it. The way he leered at Joey when he was mowing the backyard made him angry and flip a finger toward the man each time. Marksman would laugh and rub his crotch obscenely. Scissors in hand, Marksman wasted no time to rip the uniform. Joey immediately knew something bad would happen to him. Following the scissors came the clipper, then the razor. Forty-five minutes later, Joey was hairless. Hair and pubes were part of the past. “I like my bitch smooth” Like a frightened snail, Joey’s balls had retreated as far as possible, and his shriveled cock looked like a small walnut. For which Marksman teased him merciless. Teasing was not the only thing planned for his balls. For over almost two hours, Marksman taught Joey the ABC of the CBT scene. With a lot of tell and show. Marksman was a good teller and Joey’s cock and balls a living proof of the show. So much fun according to Marksman. The next hours were focused on his poor ass. Marksman physically explained the difference between the "S" from the "M" and, just like that, Joey was introduced to the roleplay of ‘S&M’. As much as he wanted to hate all of it, his treacherous cock was telling a different story. Marksman pointed out Joey’s very hard erection. “Stiff as a martini with no vermouth” a wiseman said once. Joey fell into oblivion when the expert cocksucker lowered his head and swallow the entire cock in his hot mouth. Three non-stop spectacular blowjobs left his balls drained and dried like two small raisins. *** “Do you want me to fuck you? “I’m not gay”, Joey mumbled, trying to avoid the cock entering is mouth. “I am, and you didn’t say no” a mocking Marksman replied “Now that you know what I want, what would you do for me to avoid being fucked?” By noon time, Joey had divulged all his intimate habits, dirty secrets, fantasies, even his social and online bank account credentials. All of them. All of it. Alas, Joey ran out of options and the ball gag went back in place. “I guess it’s time to fuck you” And fucked Joey would be. He just didn’t know it yet. Marksman took his time. The anticipation was as exciting as the act. He needed Joey to understand and agree to this, or at last making him believe that he willingly agreed to this. First, let him associate pain with pleasure. A fat finger slipped in Joey’s ass, eliciting tears and grunts. The finger made it home. The second finger rang the doorbell. A mind exploding sensation for Joey. At the end of the day, while Joey was left alone to reminisce about his journey, he had to admit it was amazing that the expert fingers had found his prostate, but it would have been even more amazing if they didn’t. Marksman might have been a faggot, but no girls ever gave him this level of horniness. His mind had shifted instantly and relished the gently pressure inside of his ass. The third finger was strenuous. Joey was bucking his ass against the intrusion as much as he was trying to stimulate his prostate again. Despite the directive to not look at the hidden camera, Marksman did. A large grin was on the man’s face. Whoever were his blackmailers, he never has been happier in his life than now. Except maybe for the moment when he would nut for the first time in Joey’s virgin ass. The man was naked now, the leather pouch unable to contain the fairly large man’s hard cock. No more bits and nuts. A full-grown man cock, hard and throbbing, assorted with a swinging pair of balls hovering over Joey’s face, leaking toxic precum on Joey’s sexy-stretched lips by the gag. The merciless fingers were suddenly removed. Dreading a fourth finger, Joey opened his eyes to see Marksman between his legs, pushing a thicker-than-three-fingers cock in his sore ass to the hilt. One second, the fully embedded cock was resting, the next second it was drilling him a new hole. On each pass, the cock shaft was frotting with his overstimulated love button, eliciting moans from Joey, moans that were clearly captured in the video. “You like my cock, you little slut? Do you want me to cum in you?" Joey mumbled something that sounded like a “go” or a “no”. “I have a full poz load just for you” Marksman said nonchalantly. Frowning, Joey made it clear he didn’t understand what his neighbor was referring to. Marksman leaned down and was now tongue fucking his ear and gently biting his earlobe. Then the man started whispering the fact of life to Joey. “Now that you know what you will get, what would you do for me to avoid being bred with my toxic babies?” With regrets and a huge effort, Marksman pulled his cock out and removed the gag. “Please man… don’t…” an out of breath Joey started saying before being gagged again. “Don’t what, pussy boy? Don’t stop fucking you? Don’t waste my toxic cum?” an amused Marksman asked. With two fingers sliding back in his hole, right to his prostate, Joey lost all his protesting thoughts. At this moment, Joey would have sold his mother for the urgent need to cum, and more importantly, not be infected by the faggot’s cum. Instead, he signed a document that Marksman showed him. His mother was safe, but not his body and soul which were now tied to a 25-year contract with an obscure corporation named HMS (His Master Slut) which would act as his sport agent (taking 80% of his revenue), marketing and advertising advisor (entertaining gigs for rich perverts) and personal life counselor (submitting to his new owner). Marksman never stops his ministrations on Joey’s hole. It was a derelict Joey that begged him once the gag was removed again. “Oh man! Don’t stop… I… I… I need to cum badly! Please harder!” “Look at that!” Marksman chuckled. “You like having your ass played? Who is the faggot now?” Joey was now looking at this despicable man he often named-call a faggot or worse, his neighbor, a man older than his own dad, a man with a cock bigger than his own, a man that took his cherry; well, he was begging this man to make him cum. “I’m sorry… I did mean to… I... Please... let me cum… I… I…” Joey was hesitant, but his brain had surrendered a long time ago to the fingers in his ass, “I’ll make it up to you… I’ll mow your lawn all summer for free!” “For free? Mmmh… Barefoot and shirtless?” “Yes!” a frantic Joey replied while fucking himself on the fingers “In cutoff short and no underwear?” “Yes” came the desperate reply “Mmmh… I don’t know. It seems an easy punishment for such a bad behavior” “Come on, man, I’m sorry… I…” “Ok deal, but you need to let me fuck you again and I will make you cum” Marksman never waited for an answer as he resumed fucking the athlete under him. His cum was magnificent and Joey got his first poz load. The following morning, three masked men picked up Joey, the video and the contract to a different orientation camp.4 points
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3 points
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i don't think you are being mean, but perhaps overly general and simplistic. i question whether the majority of people in this country would have selected either Biden or Trump as candidates. i feel like both were forced on me as 'choices,' and i wonder how many other people feel the same way? There are tests that are done to diagnose dementia, it's not an armchair diagnosis any of us can make. i have a lot of experience with dementia in patients as a critical care nurse, and there are lots of cross over symptoms. For instance, many of the same symptoms that present with stress also present with dementia. my individual opinion is that neither Trump or Biden was fit to run or serve as president of the US. That said, i do believe that Biden listened to and followed his advisors more than Trump does. I.e., with Biden, i felt a wee bit more confident that others of more sound mind were helping make decisions. I don't have that same feel or confidence with Trump. One of the things that bothers me about Trump is how he wants to be in control of everything. To me, Biden had partners in the governing process where Trump has minions doing his bidding.3 points
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3 points
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*** more explicit chem stuff is coming promise lol there is a build to these things 😉 *** Knock knock knock I opened my bleary eyes feeling worn out to someone knocking on my door. Still half asleep I dragged myself to the door and looked through the peep hole. The hallways was empty. Jus then the knocking came again and I realized it was from the communicating door. Without thinking I went over and opened it up, eyes still half closed. “ Do you have a towel I could borrow just got back form the gym and mine are all out” Standing there was the senior partner , in just a jock with his hands resting on the door frame. Sweat from his body matted his chest hair down and glistened in his furry pits. The scent coming form his body was like a popper hit. Mumbling something I turned around and headed to the bathroom with him following behind. As I reached up to grab an extra towel from the rack I felt him move fast behind me and turn me roughly to the big mirror. His hand went up and grabbed my face. His sweaty body pressed against me x his other arm came around and held me roughly at the waist. “ I heard you last night you fucking slut. Getting pounded and begging like a whore. Ims or glad to here you like taking raw cock.” With that I felt some moving between my cheeks now slick with his sweat. With a single shove his cock slid balls deep in my stretched hole , the left over cum and lube from last not allowing him to sink fully into my hole. Watching ym eye bulge in the mirror the breath was knocked out of me as he just started pummeling my hole. “Fuck this hole is still sloppy and wet . Such a fucking piece of trash taking raw cock from anyone. Just a fucking slut and hole to be filled aren’t you” Still trying to catch my breath I was able to respond. He ripped his cock from my tender hole and turned me around and slapped my face. “ Answer me slut” Meekly I answered yes quietly. “ not good enough say it out loud let me hear, or do you need some encouragement to be a totally cum slut pig? “ grabbing my head he shoved me face first into his sweaty hairy pits. Instinctively my tongue flashed out licking up the bead of sweat and getting his scent all over my face. I greedily lap and licked and moaned as I worship his pit. Grabbing my hair his pull me out and brought a bottle to my nose……where did he get poppers from… I had already taken two deep hits before I even thought about what I was doing. “ Two more pig fucker we aren’t done yet” The four hits went straight to my head as he spun me back around and grabbed my hair , pulling me up to look at myself in the mirror. My eyes hungry and glistening with spit and sweat. His cock was right at the entrance to my hole. “ Say what you are you fucking cumdump. Look yourself int eh eyes and say it or I walk away and leave your hole empty” “ im a slut, sir” “ What else you fucking cunt?” “ i need to be used and filled with cock . please fuck my hole and breed me. Popper me up and use me like the fucking trash I am” With that he rammed his cock in my hole as I watched my eyes bulge and the flush from the poppers was spread across my face and chest. Sweat glistend on me as he pummeled my hole not stopping until finally grabbing my hips he slammed me all the way back. Pain exploded in me as he broke throw the second ring and his hot cum flooded my hole. My own cock erupted spraying the mirror with cum coating the reflection of my face. “ Lick that cum up fucker” In a dazed I leaned forward and licked my cum from the mirror. He pulled me back his sweaty body pressed against mine. His hot mouth whispered against my ear. “You’re mine now…….”3 points
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(late 90's) I look back now and wished I'd taken better advantage of my youth. I was in my 20's and did absolutely nothing social. I was creative if you gave me a pen and paper but if you plopped me down in a gathering of friends, I was quiet and boring. The only contact I had with other people was at work or with my friend Troy. I only had a friendship with him because he'd foisted it upon me. He lived on the same floor of the my apartment building and absolutely refused to be ignored. He was flamboyantly gay and figured out I was closeted pretty early on. We forced me to interact with him no matter how cold my attitude was. I started to like him. No sexual attraction at all, but he had a good heart. He was throwing himself a birthday party at a club downtown, and not going was out of the question. I'd never been to a gay bar before, but there was just no way out of it. So on that Friday bight, I dressed up a little and went to this place called "Jax". I hated it at first. Everybody knew each other and everybody was having fun. I almost walked right back out, but Troy had already seen me. I was the first of his guests to arrive. I walked over to where he was sitting and sat across from him. "No.No. Sit next to me. Be my arm candy. This has always been my favorite table because you can see everyone that walks in. You're early. God! You really don't know anything, do you? Never come early or right on time to a party, Les! The bartender is delivering a pitcher of beer and some shots. I was going to drink it all as a warm-up, but I'll share." "Happy birthday, Troy." "Thank you, Sweetie. Than you for the card as well. Nobody sends birthday cards anymore...the only ones I got were from you and my mom." The club was starting to fill up, but only about three more of his invitees came. We all sat on the same side of the table because Troy didn't want anybody blocking his view of the action. We drank a lot. I wasn't really used to alcohol but had a high tolerance for it somehow. Metabolism? Anyway, the party was pretty much a bust. The other "friends" blew kisses and left for other hot spots. I stayed because I figured my friend would be too wasted to get himself home. "Dumb queens. Who needs 'em? Thank you for staying, Les. I know how much you hate it here, Means a lot." And then a small group of guy in robes and pajamas blustered through the front door. Weird. "Ugh. Another pajama party. Those are getting way too common these days. Oh God, that bald guy is carrying a teddy bear. Look." "What do they do at a pajama party?" "They all go club to club in their PJ's and then back to somebody's place to have a group fuck or something. I refuse to go to one. I sleep in the buff anyway. Oh no!" "What?" "The Ripper is among them." "The what? Who?" "See that guy with the curly reddish-brown hair and beard? The really tall one? That's The Ripper." "Why is he called that?" "It fits. You take him to your place and he rips your rectum and then rips your valuables. Rips condoms. Rips you completely." "He looks harmless." "Oh God, Les, Don't even get curious. I shouldn't have said anything." "Why?" "Because you're an innocent oddball who's a prime target for people like him. You are his type." "But I don't even have any valuables." "You have your health and your life. He's got the recipe." 'The Recipe' was the his code for HIV. ""How do know all this?" "Darling, I know everyone in this town. I see all. Be right back...I'm going to find a nice normal guy for you. Stay here." He left. I immediately looked over at Ripper only to find he was already looking at me. Shit! This is why I never socialized...too many landmines. He was kind of handsome, though. Troy came with more shots, a stack of napkins and a pen. "I saw you look over there. Stop. Have a drink and draw me some cartoons." I was an amateur cartoonist and liked to draw for other people. I wasn't published. I drew really raunchy 'toons that I knew Troy would like. I liked making him laugh. We had more drinks and more fun. Every time I glanced over at Ripper, he was still looking at me. "I saw that, Les. Stop. Keep drawing. Oh look! Here's Barry!" One of Troy's friends had shown up late for the party. They exchanged hugs and kisses...which got more intimate. They were both drunk. They full on made out right there at the table. "Barry and I are going to dance now, Stay put and keep drawing. I'll be back." But he never came back. He had vanished. Well, good for him. He was going to get a birthday fuck. Oh well. I had drank so much, but didn't feel intoxicated. Maybe it was my Scottish ancestry. I should probably go too, but the presence of Ripper kept me in my chair. Most of his little PJ party had moved on, leaving him all alone. I looked at him again and smiled. He returned the smile and nodded. Landmine. The bartender came by and asked if I needed anything. I ordered two vodka tonics because I didn't want him thinking I was by myself. I put one of them about a foot away from me in order to keep up the illusion I wasn't a single loser. Ripper was alone now. What a weird thing to see a grown man in his pajamas siting alone. I should go say 'hi' or something. I downed the first drink and shamelessly grabbed the seconf, trying to decide what I should do. I didn't have to. He came over to me and plopped a teddy bear right in front of me. "Hi. This guy needs a new home. My friend Josh left this behind. Can I sit?" "Thanks. Yes. Absolutely.' "I'm Craig, What happened to your friend?" Hi Craig. I'm Les. I think my buddy got lucky. Can I buy you a drink?" "Sure, Wow. You've been sucking down the booze all night...are you sure you want any more?" "I'm cold sober for whatever reason. Or maybe not. My drawing are getting a little sloppy, I'll have one more and call it a night." "You come to a beer and DRAW?? No offense, but that's weird. Can I look?" He shuffled through my cartoons and smiled. "What happened to the pajama party" "Who knows? They're all flakes. I get abandoned by those guys regularly. Its just us now. Can I sit closer to you?" I patted Troy's empty stool and he was right next to me. "So I guess your pal told you all about me." "He's a gossip, but, yeah -- he told me some stuff."' "Guys like him are the reason I can't get laid anymore. Fucker." "Any of it true." "Of course not. I just pissed off somebody once and they spread rumors to ruin me." "Sorry. It seemed dubious to me. You seem nice." "Really? Thanks. I've never seen you out before. New in town?" "No. This just isn't my scene. I hate crowds." "Well, it's not crowded now. Let's have another round and go back to my place. I wouldn't ask to go back to yours because I don't want you to think I'd rob you." But he lived way North of the city, and I didn't want to drive that far. We drank more. "I like you, Craig." Maybe the alcohol was starting to affect me. He reached over, took my hand and stuck it down the front of his pajama pants. I felt the biggest erection in the world. It was hot and a little moist. "You seem normal, but you like danger. I can tell." "Oh, hell. Everything you heard is true. I admit it. Can you admit it turned you on?" "I can." What turns you on most? That I can ruin assholes? That I sabotage condoms? That my cum is poisonous? That I'm a criminal?" "All of the above." "Good. Let's go. I promise if we go back to your place, I won't take anything that's not mine." We left and got to my apartment. He took off his slippers and t-shirt. OK. This was happening now. He waited for me to do something. I stripped. "Danger. You're in the danger zone now, boy. Lie down here on the floor." I did and he collapsed on top of me. We kissed long and hard as he humped me. I grabbed that infamous boner again. Dear Lord. "Got a condom? You realize I'll tear it off at some point, but we can pretend for a bit if you want." "Are you really HIV+?" "Oh yeah. And it's potent. No meds can make it go away. You wanted danger and now it's aimed right for your ass." He spit on his fingers and massaged two of them into my hole. "This will hurt and make you bleed like crazy. You'll have to get an area rug for this carpet." "Rip me." That set him off and shoved that thing nearly half way into me. I wanted to scream, but he held one of his huge hands over my mouth. "You're lucky that it's been so long for me. I'll cum soon. Hang on. Here's what you wanted. Ahhhh. Shittt!" I was in severe pain and could feel my ruined anus bleeding. He was done. The Ripper had completed his task. We lie there together for a minute. "Mind if I spend the night? I've already got my pajamas here." "Let's go to bed." It was a nice night. He let me suck him and we fucked twice more. He let himself out that Saturday morning. I spent the whole day in bed, listening to my body. It was wrecked and full of bad cum. I needed to find him again.2 points
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My mom suffered from dementia and died last October. She progressed from forgetting how to make coffee to chasing the little real versions of NaNaNa that were 2 years old. Even though I became the pretend NaNaNa last year, I knew that mom loved me. You can still love someone and not lie about them. Democrats, were you really not able to tell? If you couldn’t, do you really think Jill Ashley Hunter and Camilla (and of course, closer to home, Kamala) were unable to tell? How do you think your ability to tell or not reflects the trustworthiness of 1) your judgement; 2) the judgement of your preferred media; and 3) the trust anyone would put in your party going forward? am I just being mean. or does credibility have a value outside of the partisan chorale (yes chorale with falsetto cows mooing in high octaves)? would you invite Jake Tapper to moo at your funeral? maybe it’s time for a Whig revival…2 points
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Prologue The first warm days of spring. Everything tingling. Hormones. Naughty thoughts. A profile – his profile. Few words, but strong energy. I message him. Just like that. “Hey hey.” He replies fast. “What are you into? What's your status?” I type back without thinking: “Tested negative for HIV. Not taking Prep. Raw. Mostly bottom. Risk turns me on.” I’m hard instantly. How will he respond? Will he even reply? I’m 45. He’s maybe 35. “I’m poz, on meds. If that’s your thing, I’ll make sure you’re dripping with my HIV cum after. Real. Raw. No protection.” I read it twice. Feel the pressure building. A fantasy wakes up. We write more. Pictures: He looks attractive, normal build. A handsome, and a poz guy. Myself, average build, naked in the woods, bent over a tree trunk. Exposed. Words that hit. No small talk, no games. He says he’ll be in my city soon. Business trip. Wants to know if I’m truly in. If I’ll show him I’m ready. I nod – even though he can’t see it. Mail after mail, the tension grows. He writes: “If we lock this in, I want it real. I will stop my meds then. No halfway bullshit.” I’m rock hard. Finally. Someone who means it. “I want to be your poz Dad, Boy. So you'll make a test. Just before I'm fucking you.” One sentence. And my mind explodes. Pre dripping. Nothing’s certain yet. But the thought is there. Deep. Three weeks later. You're in town. You stopped your meds two weeks ago. I'm still off Prep. It becomes real. Today. 2 p.m.2 points
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Absolutely love when you find an emotional connection with someone who was just supposed to be a hook up. Sometimes it goes further than just sex. Other times, because of emotional commitments (like married men), it has to just stay sex. For me, one stands out—met at the bathhouse. He was my sexual and intellectual ideal—I would have married him if I could. But he was married and had a kid—so I could just spend time with him at the bathhouse. Sadly, I haven’t seen since the pandemic.2 points
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As I am in the UK I won't be allowed to post here for much longer so I wanted to take the opportunity to say a few things before I vanish. This website has been a godsend to me. It has allowed me to share my experiences and feelings, good and bad, and the response I have received has been very helpful. Thanks to all who have contributed both publicly and privately. Your comments and advice have been valuable. I'm still sucking cocks most weeks, although I have calmed down on other activities. The urge still pushes me to get fucked, but when I give in I have kept to a regular in recent months. My mad year, as I call it, overwhelmed me a bit. It still excites me when I read it back, but also I see the risks. Definitely a mad year, but one I seemed to fall into rather than enter it knowingly. Please feel free to add any further comments here, or in private, whilst I still have access. I wish you all well. Thank you everybody.2 points
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It depends what kind of mood I'm in. Sometimes my fuck buddy wants me blindfolded so he can control me and the men who are using me in the sling room. Other times, I want to see the filthy pigs who are breeding me. There are times where being blindfolded with your ass in the air ready to take any loads is the best feeling in the world.2 points
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This is what I like about this site. Sometimes you feel you are the only one and then you see posts like this. When I was youn I started to have my sexual awakening with my step dad. Yes it was not appropriate but I have no regrets. When I was about 16 he said to me after one of your sessions where I was insatiable and couldn’t get enough, “ you are an addict.” That stuck with me and for many years I thought because I needed to be bred all the time that there was something wrong with me. It damaged my self worth. My first long term relationship (outside of my dad) was with a man that pozzed me and shared me for drugs with many men for years. That along with my appetite for sex made me feel I was just a couple of holes to use and nothing more. I am now in my 40’s and I am just starting to emerge from that stigma that started so many years ago. I have embraced my sexuality and know that men are men. Our needs are simple. The norms of society have only made me feel less valued. Thank you all for posting your stories. It helps.2 points
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Bareback is just a name for sex. It's ok to want the full experience with nothing between you, from your fingers in his beard as you kiss to your dick on his prostate, it's just natural sex, it's ok to like it.2 points
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Chapter Two: Some of them Want to be Abused So, life is not fair. I say that and you nod but let me tell you, it is really not fucking fair. My name is Baxter White and my dad raped me. I know, sounds a little shocking but let me explain. My dad was a cop, and it turns out he was a dirty cop, he framed this guy and sent him to jail, and it turns out the guy didn’t like it. Wow, what a twist. The guy got out, broke into our house, drugged me and my dad, and had my dad fuck me… filmed it…and then sent it to my mom and the cops. They took my dad away and my mom instantly filed for divorce. I thought that was going to be that, I mean I was 16 and unwilling, they had a fucking tape of it…how hard could it be to convict him? Turns out when you’re a dirty cop, other dirty cops will cover for you. Afraid he was going to give them up if he went to jail they “lost” the tape and the charges were dropped when the toxscreen came back that my dad was high as a fucking kite. The video clearly showed the other guy coaching him, even though they lost it, and he was quietly reassigned across the country while my mom was given everything in the divorce. So, I got fucked, taped and my dad got a new job, see what I mean not fair? I was on the lacrosse team and wasn’t going to just shrivel up and die, so I put on my big boy pants and kept going to the gym. In this case, the gym was Tony’s, a cop gym that my dad and I had gone to, the guys there knew me and though they didn’t know why my dad left, they knew I was on my own so let me keep working out there for free. I walked into Tony’s with a swagger, I was going to leave my old life behind, forget what my dad had done to me, and become a new me. A better me. A me that didn’t need my asshole dad to succeed. As I entered the gym, everyone seemed to glance at me, I wondered for a second if they knew what he had done to me but then thought better of it. They just knew I was on my own now and my dad had moved out of state suddenly. They probably felt sorry for me, poor little cop's kid with no dad. Fuck my dad, I didn't need him. I went into the locker room and changed, I was easily the youngest guy here but wasn't in the best shape. Some of these guys were beasts, huge, muscled guys that made me look tiny in comparison. I changed out and pulled on some shorts, ignoring the glances of guys who recognized me and noticed the lack of my dad. As I started lifting weights, I saw them whisper amongst themselves, speculating why my dad left without even saying goodbye to his son. It annoyed me, not because it hurt my feelings, but rather because they didn't know he left and I had refused to talk to him again. They assumed I was the victim here and I would never be a victim again. I put all my anger and rage into my reps, straining my body with each rep, forcing myself to lift more and more, trying to drown the rage out. I was squatting over my max and I felt my legs start to tremble, in a panic I realized I had overextended myself and didn't have a spotter! I grunted as I strained to push it off of me...fuck... "Whoa!" a voice said, gripping the bar, "I gotcha," he said, letting me slip free before letting it fall to the floor. He was one of those massive guys I mentioned earlier, he looked like someone who could snap me in half, but there was something gentle in his gaze. His name was Mason, he helped me get back up onto my feet smiling, “You shouldn’t be putting up those numbers without a spot man.” I nodded, “Sorry, got away from me.” “I get it,” he said holding out his hand, “Mason.” I shook it, “Baxter,” “I know who you are,” he said, “And I get it, but if you’re gonna take our anger out on wights, why don’t you join us.” I looked over and another guy was standing at a weight bench, he was leaner and more compact than Mason but still bigger than I was. “That’s Sebastian, come work out with us.” I nodded and walked over while Sebastian shook my hand, “What’s up kid, how you holding up?” I sighed, “I was fine before I almost committed suicide by squats.” They laughed, “Well if you need some workout partners, we’re looking for a third.” I smiled, “That would be cool!” We spent hours working out, talking about everything under the sun - our families, politics, sports, women. The three of us formed quite a bond in no time, and by the end of the day, I felt like they were friends. We all went back to the locker room and Mason turned to me, “We usually sit in the steam room for an hour after, we’re here every day, you wanna exchange numbers so we can keep in touch?” I nodded and pulled out my cell, “That would be cool, you guys really don’t mind?” He put his number into my phone, “Hell no man, my dad bailed on me when I was younger than you, I know what it's like to start over, we got you.” I was so fucking grateful, I gave him my cell and they walked into the steam room while I took a shower. This felt like a great beginning. The next few weeks we worked out like crazy, they helped me with my form and spotted me when I needed it. They began to talk up the academy, which they had just graduated from, they were both very young for cops, maybe 24 tops, but built like motherfuckers. They began telling me how I could be a cop and that the academy was looking for guys like me. As much as I hated my dad, the sound of being a cop myself began to appeal to me. I couldn't stop thinking about it, especially since Mason and Sebastian encouraged me daily during our workouts. Maybe they saw something in me, or perhaps they just wanted a way to connect deeper to me? Either way, I began to see it as a possibility after high school. Finally, I began to talk to them about it, asking what I needed to do to train for it. They began to go over the physical exercises they were drilled on and began to run me through mock versions of it as a workout. The other cops cheered me on once they saw what I was doing, it felt like I had become one of them in some way. Once I had the exercises down, they said the next was mental prep. They said there were a lot of tests and memorizations I would need to master, but they had the books still at their place. They invited me back one night so I could start to study them. I went to their place, they shared a small apartment with two rooms, it screamed male with a kitchen full of protein powders and meal preps, the whole place smelled like a locker room, a smell I had to admit I liked. Mason came out with a few books, here, these are the first-year ones, look them over, there are practice tests in the back, take your time and if you have any questions just ask us, we’ll talk you through it. I thanked them and they drove me home, I had never in my life been so happy to be assigned homework. As I studied the books I realized a few things, the first was becoming a cop was not as easy as it seemed and two, I was a complete moron. I had spent most of high school playing on my body and looks, not actually studying. I knew more about how to get a girl’s panties off than I did about this shit. I admitted it to them the next time we lifted and they both laughed. “Yeah, it’s complicated,” Mason said between sets, “We had study groups when we did it. Bring the books next time, when we’re done working out come over and we’ll go over it with you.” “You guys would do that?” I asked in awe. Sebastian nudged me, “For our little cop pup, anything.” I was beaming. The next session I brought my books and when we were done, we went back to their place to study. They ordered us a pizza and they went over the concepts that were puzzling me, slowly I began to understand it, very slowly. As the days turned to weeks they became like a second family, I loved these guys and they seemed to feel the same about me. When we were finished with the first book, I asked them what else I would need to do. It was a Friday, and we were at their place, my mom knew I was staying here for the weekend as we studied so we had spread out in sweats, going over what I needed to work on. They looked at each other and shrugged, “Well there is the drug test.” I shook my head, “I don’t do drugs.” They chuckled, “No, not that, the drug test is where you do drugs so you know how they affect the people you’re arresting. It’s a doozy cause if you freak out you can get failed based on psychological means.” “Wait what? You have to take drugs?” They nodded, “Yeah, a dose under controlled circumstances, so you know if you’re facing a junkie what they are going through. But it’s also like a backdoor psych test, if you lose it they know you aren’t stable.” Shit, that sounded bad. “How do you know if you’ll freak out?” They shrugged, “You don’t until you try it.” I began to panic, I had a lot of shit going on, the odds of me freaking out were…well it was high. Mason saw I was panicking and smiled, “Hey, it's cool, if you want, we can practice.” I looked up at him, “Practice? How?” Sebastian grinned at me, “We’ll give you a dose here, with just us, see how you react. That way we know what we have to work on.” My stomach soured, the last time I had done anything was…was with dad. What if they dosed me during the academy and I had a flashback? Shit, this was bad. Sebastian came over and put an arm around me, “Hey, it's ok, listen. You’re here all weekend, let’s get your feet wet and if you want, we’ll take it with you, so you don’t feel so weird.” “Really?” Mason just nodded, “Of course pup, we got you.” We started with some beers, I had been drunk before but they said it was a nice onramp, next was some weed. They had a couple of joints they had confiscated from some dealers, I had done weed once or twice with friends but this shit was strong. I sat on the couch between them feeling no pain, they had taken their shirts off and were laughing at nothing. “Aren’t you hot pup?” Mason asked, pulling at my shirt. I nodded and held my arms up and he pulled it off and tossed it aside, “Jesus kid,” Sebastian said, running his hands over my pecs and abs, “You are smoking hot.” His fingers made me shiver as I suppressed a moan, “Thanks…” “Ok, last one,” Mason said, pulling out an Altoids tin, “Lemme see your tongue,” I stuck my tongue out and he placed a small pill on it, “Ok swallow.” I gulped the pill and he handed me a beer to wash it down. They both took one and did the same, “What was that?” I asked as they passed another joint to me. “Molly,” Sebastian said taking the joint from me, “It's as hard as they get…give it a few and it will kick in.” I nodded, closing my eyes, I hadn’t felt his relaxed…since forever. I just sat there, letting the world spin around me, enjoying my own little puddle of happy… I don’t know how much time passed before I heard Mason asked, “How you feeling?” My eyes stayed closed as I smiled, “Good.” “How does this feel?” and then something pinched my nipple. My eyelids fluttered open, and I found myself staring right into Sebastian’s face, my mouth slightly agape, trying to comprehend why his face was so close to mine. Before I could process further, he pressed his lips against mine, sending waves of sensation rippling throughout my entire body. His hand snaked behind my neck, deepening the kiss, and I couldn’t help but respond in kind. Our tongues tangled passionately as I grabbed onto his shoulders, unable to believe what was happening. I felt like I was drowning in him for a moment before he pulled back and smiled at me. His large, calloused hands roamed along my shoulders, down my torso before coming to rest firmly upon my hips. His lips parted mine hungrily, his tongue seeking entry inside my mouth. Every caress sent shivers coursing down my spine leaving me utterly lost in ecstasy. I gave in fully for a moment, allowing myself to be led by his experience. And then my consciousness surfaced…I was kissing a guy! “Wait…” I gasped, my entire body shaking from pleasure. My cock was painfully hard as I moved away from him, “What…are…” I moved back into Sebastian and his arms moved around me, “Shhh, we got you,” he said as he licked around the edge of my ear. I moaned as I felt my body melt into his arms, my head rolled back and I felt him begin to nibble on my neck, “Let go pup…we know what you need.” For a moment my mind was gone, I whimpered as I felt his teeth mark me over and over, god this felt so good… And then I sat up, “No!” I said, my head reeling, “I’m not…not…” “A fag? Gay? Into it?” Mason asked, his hand moving over the obvious bulge in the front of my shorts, “Oh baby boy, we’ve seen the video…you loved it.” My eyes widened as I realized they had known who I was the whole time! He nodded as he moved towards me, lying me back into Sebastian’s arms, “We saw you pup, and we say how much you liked it, loved it, how you begged for it…” I shook my head as I fell back into Sebastian. Mason kissed up my neck, “You loved it, were begging for it…some on Baxter,” his face hovered over mine, “Admit it.” I shook my head, but no words would come out of my mouth. “Just.” Kiss. “Let.” Kiss. “Go.” I groaned as he bit my neck again, the pain becoming a pleasure I hadn’t felt since…since dad. I threw my head back as he kept kissing me. Sebastian’s hands roamed my body from behind, it was like being trapped in a prison of ecstasy and I was losing the will to escape. His body pressed against mine and the warmth, the weight…pressing down on me…I closed my eyes and surrendered to the desire. My cock throbbed as he kissed me, I could hear myself screaming in my head to stop him, to push him off but my body refused to listen. The hunger, the yearning to be touched, caressed...it was all I could feel. I should have been screaming, thrashing in panic…instead, pleasure flooded through my veins, making me crave more and more of whatever was happening. I knew this wasn’t right, but I didn’t care anymore, I was tired of being sad or pissed or feeling sorry for myself. I just wanted to feel anything more than what I had been. Mason’s mouth found mine and I froze as his tongue pushed against mine…I couldn’t kiss a guy…I wasn’t a fag…I wasn’t…I wasn’t… He pulled back and looked me in the eye, “Stop fighting this,” he said, “We know what you need.” “What do I need?” I asked, honestly asking at this point. He leaned in, his hot breath on my ear as he whispered, “You need daddy to fuck you again.” I shuddered as my cock lurched, a low moan escaped my lips before Mason kissed me again, this time I kissed back. His hand slid down the length of my thigh, rubbing against the fabric covering my cock, sending electric shocks through my body. This shouldn't happen; I told myself repeatedly, yet I still allowed it to continue that voice grew dimmer and farther away…as his hand moved up my shorts and grabbed my cock I broke the kiss, throwing my head back as I whimpered, “Daddy…” He sat up, grabbed the waist of my shorts, and paused, “Lift your hips, baby…” Time stopped, though my mind was fogged I knew this was the moment, this was the turning point. I could stop this, I could shake my head and they would stop, I could feel it. They weren’t here to rape me…they were here to use me…willingly. Anything that happened after this wouldn’t be on them, it would be all me. I thought about my girlfriend, my life…everything that came before this moment… All I could see was my dad’s face as I rode his cock. I slowly lifted my hips as he pulled my shorts off, my leaking cock slapping my abs as he tossed them aside. He grabbed my length again, shaking his head, “Look at how hot you are!” he said, lazily stroking my dick, “Such a big boy…” I bucked my hips into his hand, thrusting my needy cock into his hand, Sebastian’s hand moved over my pecs, pinching my nipples as I writhed between them. My whole world was pleasure, Sebastian licked my ear and asked me quietly, “You want your daddies to take care of you?” I nodded and pulled his face to mine, “Please daddy…” And we kissed. It was rough, wet, messy – all things forbidden. His tongue invaded my mouth, forcing itself past my trembling lips, ravaging me causing involuntary sounds of delight to erupt from deep within my chest. As our lips locked, my heart raced faster, desperately reaching out for more stimulation while fear crawled relentlessly underneath my skin. Mason’s hand moved off my cock and was replaced by his mouth. “Oh fuck!” I moaned as I arched my back, shoving my cock down his throat. He gagged as my length hit the back of his throat; I had a huge cock…like my dad. Many girls had complained that I was too big, more than a few nights I had ended up with a hand job because they wouldn’t let me fuck them. Mason quickly recovered though, grabbing the base of me and deep-throating me as the tip of my cock slipped down the opening of his throat. I couldn't think of any other way to describe it besides 'eating', he really devoured my manhood. Each gulp from Mason made me even harder until finally I heard myself calling out "Oh yeah…take it!" Sebatian’s hands roamed all over my chest and abs as Mason choked on my cock. I felt teeth on my neck, and I sobbed as I felt him mark me again, leaving delicate bruises all over my neck like a common whore. Mason came off my cock and spread my legs wider, as he began to lick my taint I closed my eyes, knowing what was coming. Sebastian grabbed my legs and pulled them back as Mason spread my ass cheeks…revealing my tiny, little jock hole. I felt his breath blow on it before his tongue began to lap around my puckered entrance. I held my breath as he did smaller and smaller laps around my hole until finally, he stabbed his tip into me… “DADDY!” I screamed as I felt his tongue enter me. It wasn't gentle; he was forceful and demanding, owning me completely. He stretched my hole open, pushing deeper with each pass of his tongue as if claiming ownership of my cunt. My muscles quivered beneath his movements, my entire body consumed by waves of intense sensation that only escalated when he began to piston his tongue in and out of me harder. Sebastian kept talking to me as I was tongue fucked, “Yeah open that pussy up, let your daddy eat you out!” My eyes rolled back as I surrendered my body to them, he savagely plunged his tongue into my hole until I was pleading for more. My voice sounded strange to me, so needy, so desperate…as Mason went back to licking my balls two fingers were shoved into me, stretching me out. "That's a good boy," I heard Sebastian say softly. Then it was three fingers in me, filling me up in ways I never imagined possible. Mason worked me expertly, each finger pulling slightly inwards as it penetrated deeper inside me as Sebastian kept kissing me, distracting me from the discomfort with his mouth. Their rhythm was slow and controlled - almost hypnotizing - creating a wave of euphoria throughout my body. Finally, four fingers moved in and out of me easily as I felt the tingle of my bitch button being tickled by their pressure. I began to buck back into Mason’s hand, and he chuckled, “Baby boy wants more than some fingers?” I looked up and him and nodded eagerly, my need consuming any reservations I was feeling. He stood and pulled his clothes off, revealing a thick, uncut cock that bobbed over a set of huge bull balls. He smiled as he saw me looking at his length, he straddled my chest, his purplish head brushing my lips, “Get daddy’s cock ready…” I took his massive member in my hands, giving it a quick lick, then lowered my head toward it. It was heavy in my mouth, engulfing most of it, the heat radiating it was insane. I sucked hard, taking the thickness further into my mouth, working to fit even more onto my tongue. My nose filled with the smell of sweaty man, but I barely noticed, lost in the task. As the musky taste mixed with the tang of precum, I became aware of something else…a sudden, unexpected rush of emotion. A hunger, a desire to please him no matter what. It was driving me wild, this urge to satisfy him. The need pushed me to abandon reason, logic crumbling beneath the tidal wave of arousal. I started moving my mouth along his shaft, using one hand to stroke him softly, while the other caressed his nuts. All thoughts drifted from my brain except the fact that I needed to please daddy…I needed to make daddy feel so good! I felt his hand move through my hair, “Oh that’s it boy, worship daddy’s cock…that’s it!” His approval drove me crazy, and I moaned around his cock as I slathered it with my spit, desperate to fit the whole thing in my mouth. I began to choke and gag as he hit the back of my throat, I kept trying to pull back until I hit Sebastian’s chest…I was trapped. He began to force his cock down my throat, I had nowhere to go, they held me fast and all I could was let him fuck my throat, his precum flowing down my throat. I felt his balls his my chin as he face fucked me, I was dizzy, his smell everywhere…his grunts as he pushed down my throat… “Such a hungry boy,” Sebastian said, and I whimpered, my cock still hard as a rock. This was turning me on so fucking much! What was wrong with me? Finally, Mason pushed me off his cock, gasping as I tried to keep sucking him off, “Down boy!” he said, climbing off my chest, “I am not wasting a load on that mouth,” He moved between my legs, lining his cock up to my aching hole, “Ask daddy to fuck you… I want to hear it.” I looked up at him with wide eyes and opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. Mason placed his large palms firmly on my shoulders and forced me to look directly into his eyes. He spoke sternly and deliberately, “You want daddy to fuck you, don’t you?” I swallowed hard…and nodded once. His head pressed into me and I closed my eyes as I felt him enter me… My hole was tight, too tight…he strained to push past my muscle, but I had only been fucked once…I moaned as he pushed harder… “Relax baby,” Sebastian said, rubbing my chest, “Relax and push out…” I winced as I tried…Sebastian shifted behind me and then something was under my nose, “Inhale…” I remember this stuff, smells like shit but…I inhale and close my eyes, waiting for it to hit…I felt my hole stretch as Mason kept pushing… And then nothing, my thoughts shattered as the poppers took hold and Mason’s cock pushed into me, this thick cock filling me completely. I hear a needy moaning fills the room; it takes a second for me to realize it is me. I hear Mason exclaim, “Oh god he is tight!” and then Sebastian, “Fuck him bro, fuck him hard.” I felt Mason’s cock slide out of me and I arched my back as I tried to follow it…he grabbed my waist and slammed back into me hard. My world seemed to skip as his cockhead punched my prostate, making my whole body jerk. I heard him chuckle as he pulled back and thrust into me again. My whole body shuddered and they both laughed. “I found his clit,” Mason said, pulling back slightly and then pushing forward. His thick head seemed to press down on that spot, and I began to wail with pleasure as Sebastian held me still. “You like that baby? You like daddy’s cock?” I nodded as he began to work up a rhythm, “Oh god…” I cried, “Shit…oh fuck…more!” Mason grabbed my legs and spread them wide, and he began to fuck me properly, like a real bitch. The room was filled with my mewing screams as he plowed my ass like a real man, it felt as incredible as it had when dad fucked me. My ties curled as he owned my jock cunt, using my hole like he wanted, not caring if I was liking it or not, just using me like dad had. “You like that slut?” Sebastian asked me as I drooled down my chin. I nodded, “Fuck me daddy…fuck me…” They both chuckled as Mason sped up, “Dude, he is so fucking tight…” “Lemme feel…” Mason pulled out of me and I groaned in disappointment. Sebastian pulled me up under my arms and Mason moved me and lined my ass up with the other man’s cock. Sebastian let go and I slid down his length, my head slammed back as I felt his cock stretch me even fuller! Holy fuck he was so big! “Oh, daddy!” I cried as I felt my ass walls get pried open by his horse cock, “You’re too big!” I whined but I was lying. His cock…it felt like dad’s, huge, thick, filling me up completely. As I slid down his length I leaned back and kissed him, loving the feeling of him bitching me out. I rode his cock slowly, loving the way it split me open as I pushed down on him. I felt my back arch as I desperately tried to force more of him in me, I strained as I pulled myself off it, scratching my hungry clit with each motion…driving myself crazy. “That’s it,” he said, “Ride daddy’s cock…be a good boy and fuck yourself.” His words burned into my brain as I steadied myself on either side of him as I slammed myself down on his fucking elephant dick. I was lost in my lust, in my delirium I was riding my dad’s cock again, it wasn’t Sebastian’s hands pulling me down by my waist, it was my dad. It wasn’t some strange cop I met in a gym I was begging to fuck me harder, it was my dad and it wasn’t two relative strangers that were fucking me… It was my daddy. As he held me steady, I raised my arms over my head, flexing and moaning for my new daddies, relishing being the slut they are making me. Mason’s hands roam over my body, grasping my aching cock as I fuck myself, I moan shamelessly as he watches me melt, “That’s it, baby boy, fuck yourself…harder…faster…” “Yes, daddy!” I cry, “More…more!” Mason looks at Sebastian and grins before he pushed me back onto the other man’s chest and lines his cock up to his boy’s hole… “Wha…daddy?” I ask as I feel my hole stretch again as he presses his cock into me next to Sebastian! I groaned as I felt my little jock hole shudder as the second cock entered me, Sebastian held me down as Mason forced his cock into me. The pain was indescribable but seeing this muscled man leering down at me, the look of domination on his face all I could see was my dad’s face when he fucked me. How I begged him to stop at the time, but he ignored me, shoving the cock that made me into my ass…and how I had loved it. “DADDY!” I screamed as his head popped past my ring of muscle and began to slide next to Sebastian’s… “Oh, fuck dude your cock feels amazing next to mine!” one of them said. “You like that slut? You like your daddy’s cocks?” The cocks had forced my ass walls apart, pressing down on my cunt button instead of just teasing it. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through my body the pain became a part of the ecstasy and I shuddered around their dicks and nodded, “Oh daddy…so full!” I felt Mason press his entire length into me until his pubes were grinding against my ass…they were both in me fully, they stood still as my cunt spasmed around their cocks, I whimpered and moaned as my mind tried to comprehend how much cock was in me. “Is our baby boy happy?” Sebastian? Mason? One of my daddies asked, “Does our little slut want to be fucked?” I said nothing, my mind on fire… Mason leaned down, “You want to be our boy? Be our boyslut and let us fuck you?” My vision was blurred as I looked up at him, tears of joy rolling down my cheek as I nodded, “Yes…please fuck me daddy!” He smiled, “Anything for my boy…” He slid his cock back and my back arched as I sobbed, feeling my guts move with his cock before he slammed it back. I saw flashes of light behind my eyes as those cocks impacted in me, he slowly pulled out again, drawing a needy mewling cry out of me before punching me with his cock again. One thrust after another and my head fell to the side, no longer able to hold myself up…he began to fuck me harder and I just jerked, a rag doll for them to use as Sebastian began to thrust up. Then their cocks passed my jock clit I would shudder and let out an unintelligible moan as all I knew was white hot joy from being their hole. “Fucking jock slut!” Mason growled, fucking me harder, “Think we didn’t see you? Tight shorts, ripped shirts, walking this tight ass around the gym…begging someone to fuck you? God damned cock tease…” A weak, “Sorry daddy…” fell out of my mouth as drool pooled on my shoulder as my smooth, muscled body was moved and molested in any which way by them. I was no longer a person, I was their sex doll…their cocks sending images of my dad as he fucked me through my brain… I had never been so happy. “Fuck I am going to pop,” Sebastian moaned. Mason sped his fucks up, “Breed him, dude, let’s get our little boyslut pregnant!” His face loomed over mine, “You want your daddies to cum in you?” “Please daddy…more…” I slurred, no longer sure of where I was, all I knew was cock. “You’re gonna be our boy…” one of them said as their thrusts became frantic, “you will be our little slut…” As their cocks rubbed my clit, I felt my cock begin to throb and I moaned and thrash, my balls began to tingle as I began to make needy and desperate sounds, begging my daddies to make me cum without words. We were no longer human, no thought passed through our brains, we were animals, three savage beasts breeding mindlessly. One of them groaned and I felt a warmth in my jock pussy and my cock exploded… Hot cum rained over my chest and abs like a baptism…as my mouth opened in a silent scream I was reborn…no longer Baxter White, lacrosse jock, bodybuilder, alpha teen…I was my daddy’s boyslut, a willing hole to be fucked and loved and used… For as long as they would fuck me. Two Weeks Later… The three of us were covered in sweat as we stumbled towards the locker room. We had gone hard on back and lats and the burn felt amazing. We were full of bravado and energy as we began to strip off our sweaty clothes, grabbing a towel from our lockers. “I gotta take a piss,” I told them, “I’ll meet you in there.” Mason nodded, “Don’t dawdle.” I shook my head and walked over to the urinal. As I was pissing one of the cops walked by, “Looking good out there boy.” I smiled, “Thanks sir, I’m trying.” “When do you join the academy?” “Right after graduation, I got a scholarship for criminology.” “Sweet, you’re gonna make a good cop.” I blushed as I flushed, “Thanks sir, I hope so.” I washed my hands and walked out into the locker room, walking over to the steam room. I opened the door and walked in, the darkened room was filled with steam and I couldn’t see anything.” “Daddy?” I called out and I heard a chuckle, “Lose the towel slut.” I dropped the towel and stood there naked waiting… A strange voice said, “Come sit on daddy’s lap…” I smiled and followed it as hands roamed my body as I walked over to the stranger…no, as I walked over to my new daddy for the day. Time to get fucked.2 points
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2 points
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Note: I didn't remember this story anymore, but since it appeared in my notifications, I decided to write another part after 4 years. I hope you like it. PART III He was still suspicious when our kiss ended. I pulled back slightly to gauge his reaction. Luke's eyes searched mine, the uncertainty in them unmistakable. The lights coming in through the window reflected off the wetness of our lips, casting a rainbow of doubt across his face. "I don't know, man," Luke said, his voice thick with hesitation. "I just found out I'm HIV positive. Having sex without a condom doesn't seem like a good idea." The way his eyes searched mine, the vulnerability in his voice, it was like he was handing me a secret wrapped in fear and hope. "Luke," I said, taking a step closer, my hand reaching for his, "I'm HIV positive too. And it won't be a problem for me. I can see you want this just as much as I do." His gaze dropped to the bulge in his pants, and he took a deep, shaky breath. "Dude, I'm Luke O'Brien, the star player on the biggest hockey team in town. I can't have HIV. Being gay is hard enough." I was surprised. I had no idea this guy was a local celebrity when I first fucked him. I was never really into sports, so his name didn't mean much to me. But now, it added a thrilling twist to our encounter. "I'm Colton Andrews," I said, my grip on his hand tightening. "But my friends call me Colt. I'm just a fucked up bartender. I have no money, no fame, but I want you to put that dick inside me. I don't care if you have AIDS or any other disease, I just want you to fuck me raw. Can you focus on that?" To drive my point home, I reached down and firmly grabbed his dick over his pants. He gasped, his eyes going wide, and for a moment, I thought I had pushed too far. But then, something shifted in his expression. It was like a dam had broken, and the raw, primal need took over. He nodded, and the tension between us grew thicker than my wrist. Inside my bedroom, I pushed him against the wall, the paint cold and rough against my fingertips. The room smelled faintly of sex and cheap cologne, a stark contrast to the heat radiating between us. Our clothes fell in a tangled mess on the floor, a testament to our haste. I could feel his heart hammering against my chest as we kissed again, his hands fumbling with my belt. The sound of metal clinking and fabric ripping filled the air as we both gave in to our carnality. Luke's skin was hot and slick with sweat, and I could taste the salt on his lips as we kissed with a hunger that was almost painful. When we finally made it to my bed, the mattress creaked in protest under our combined weight. We didn't bother with the lights, letting the moon spill in through the blinds, casting us in a soft, bluish glow. I laid back, my heart racing as Luke climbed over me, his muscular body straddling mine. He positioned my legs over his broad shoulders, his eyes never leaving mine as he lined up his hard, bare cock with my eager hole. "I want you to fuck me with that poz cock and cum deep inside me," I told him, my voice a hoarse whisper. The words hung in the air, thick with desire and challenge. Luke searched my gaze, his expression a mix of lust and apprehension. "Are you sure, man?" he asked, his voice a low growl. "I want it as much as you do," I assured him, feeling the heat of his body pressing into me. "I want your poison inside me. I want your poz babies." The room seemed to hold its breath as the reality of what we were about to do sank in. His eyes went dark, his pupils dilating with a newfound hunger. "This is crazy," he murmured, "but I've never felt this horny before." I took a deep breath, feeling a shiver of excitement run down my spine. "Then fuck me hard," I urged him. "I know I'm not usually a bottom, but tonight, I want you to give it your all. Don't hold back." With a nod, Luke positioned the tip of his cock at my entrance and pushed in, slow and deliberate. I felt the head of his dick stretch me open, the sensation unlike anything I had ever experienced. "I've never fucked anyone without a condom before," he said, his voice strained with restraint. "This will be the first of many times," I reassured him, gritting my teeth as he invaded me further. "Now you don't need to use protection anymore." With a final, deep breath, Luke gave in to his instincts and plunged into me, his cock disappearing to the hilt with a wet slap that echoed through the quiet room. I gasped, my body tightening around him, the pleasure mixed with a hint of pain. It had been a long time since I had been fucked raw, and the feeling was overwhelming. He began to thrust, his movements at first tentative, as if he were afraid of breaking me. But as I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down for another bruising kiss, he picked up the pace. Our bodies moved in a rhythm that seemed to have been written in our very DNA, two desperate men seeking solace and pleasure in each other's embrace. Each thrust was a declaration of want and need, a silent agreement to share our darkest secrets, our deepest fears. We were two men, bound by a shared fate, seeking to find something hot in the chaos of our lives. And as Luke's cock filled me up, as his warm, sticky precum leaked into me, I knew that for this one night, we had found it. "Fuck me harder," I begged him, my voice hoarse from the passion. "Cum inside me. Give me your poz seed." "I can't last much longer if you keep saying things like that," he said. "But it's true, I want your poz seed so bad," I almost cried. The words seemed to have an electric effect on him. His eyes snapped open, and his pupils were so dilated that his irises had almost disappeared. "Oh, fuck," he groaned. "That's so hot." "Does it turn you on?" I asked, my own voice thick with arousal. He nodded, his breathing becoming more ragged. "Yeah, it does." So, I kept saying it, whispering it into his ear as his cock slammed into me over and over again. "Cum inside me. Give me your charged up seed." The room was a cacophony of sounds, the slap of skin on skin, the creak of the bed, and our harsh, animalistic gasps for air. And with each repetition of those words, Luke's movements grew more urgent, more demanding. He was close, I could feel it in the way his muscles tensed around me. I fought my own urge to cum, because I didn't want to waste even a drop of my precious cum. I had a better destiny for my seed. "Give me your charged load," I said again, and something in me snapped. It was more than just a desire for release; it was a craving for a deeper connection, a bond forged in the fire of our shared fate. With a guttural roar, Luke buried his face in my neck and drove into me one final time. I felt his cock pulse deep within me, his hot, thick cum filling me up as he came. The sensation was indescribable, a mix of pleasure and pain that seemed to resonate through every fiber of my being. As we lay there, panting and sweaty, I could feel his cock slowly softening inside me. His cum was leaking out, painting a warm trail down my thigh, a physical reminder of what we had shared. And in that moment, I felt something that I hadn't felt in a long time, a sense of belonging. We stayed like that for a while, not speaking, just feeling the aftershocks of our passion rippling through us. And when he finally pulled out, we both knew that we had crossed a line that couldn't be uncrossed. But we didn't care. And as we lay there, entangled in the messy sheets, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey. Together, we would face the judgments and the fears that came with a reality that was as raw and as real as the sex we had just shared. "How are you feeling?" I asked, my voice gentle and soothing, stroking his hair. "Man, that was hot," he murmured, his heart still racing from the intense climax. "I never thought I could get this horny." I stroked his sweat-soaked hair, feeling a warmth spread through me that had everything to do with the heat of the moment. "Poz sex is the best kind of sex, isn't it?" I whispered, smiling into the crook of his neck. "Yeah," he breathed out, his voice still shaky. "It was the best sex of my life." I felt a twinge of satisfaction at his words. It wasn't about the ego boost; it was knowing that I had given him something he had never experienced before. Something that had allowed him to let go of the fear that had been gripping him so tightly. "Are you still freaking out about finding out you have HIV?" I asked, my voice gentle. He took a moment to think, then looked up at me with a surprising glint in his eye. "It's still a little scary," he admitted. "But I also feel... free." The words hung in the air between us, charged with the weight of his newfound liberation. "I've been scared of it my whole life," he continued, "but now I know I can have sex with anyone without worrying. And without using a condom..." He trailed off, his eyes glazing over with lust as he thought about the possibilities. "I don't think I'll ever be able to use one again after what we just did." The power of those words was not lost on me. This was a man who had just been handed a new lease on life, a man who had been given permission to indulge in his desires without the fear of judgment or repercussion. And I was the one who had given it to him. "If you're willing to follow me," I said, my voice low and seductive, "this is just the beginning. I want to help you fulfill all your wildest fetishes. Whatever you think is morally wrong, it won't be [banned word] for me. Think of this opportunity as a gift." He chuckled, the sound vibrating against my chest. "Okay then," he said, his voice thick with sleep. "Thanks for the gift." And with that, he closed his eyes and let himself drift off, nestled in the safety of my arms. I looked down at him, my own cock still hard as a rock, but I knew it could wait. Tonight had been about more than just my pleasure; it had been about giving Luke something that he had never allowed himself to experience. But the hunger inside me was growing, and I knew it would only be a matter of time before I would need to satisfy it. Before I could act on it, though, I needed to make sure he was truly ready to walk this path with me. As he slept, I traced the curve of his spine with my fingertips, feeling the warmth of his body against mine. The moon cast a soft glow across the room, highlighting the contours of his muscular back and the tattoos that snaked down his arms. His breathing grew even, his chest rising and falling with each deep inhale and exhale. I watched him for a few moments more, then slid out of bed, careful not to wake him. I walked over to the window, the cool air sending goosebumps across my skin. The city sprawled out before me, a sea of lights and shadows, and I knew that in the vast expanse of the night, there were others like us. Others who craved the same raw, unbridled connection that we had just shared. And with a smirk, I realized that Luke was just the beginning. Together, we would explore every dark corner of our desires, pushing the boundaries of what was accepted and what was forbidden. It was a journey I had been on before, but with him by my side, it felt like I was starting anew.2 points
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Chapter 3 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. - Mr. Jacobs: the old math teacher who added his raw load to Caleb's hole between classes after finding out from Mr. Sanchez that Caleb is a little fuckslut. * * * Fourth period came and went. Caleb was feeling increasingly nervous — and a bit excited — with the swift approach of his lunchtime follow-up with Mr. Sanchez. The student's cum-slick ass crack and the teachers' cum loads sloshing inside his anal cavity had prevented Caleb from focusing during the intervening class periods. What did keep his attention was the effort to remember the feeling of Mr. Sanchez's thick, raw dick pressing into his soft insides that morning. Caleb wished Mr. Sanchez had not confiscated his phone so that Caleb could message one of his hookup contacts the salacious details. Alas, the story would have to wait until Caleb could secure the return of his phone during lunch. Fifth period biology, his least favorite subject, was next. Caleb made his way into Mr. Park's biology class where his classmates were already offloading the heft of their overstuffed bookbags onto the workbenches. Projected on the screen at the front of the class was the topic and learning objectives for the day, which read: "Today we will explore the structure and function of DNA. Students will explore DNA's physical characteristics by isolating samples from their own bodies. Students will have the opportunity to understand the role that DNA plays in the human body and to understand DNA's physical characteristics." "Caleb!," Mr. Park's ever-jubilant voice came from behind. "I hear from Mr. Jacobs that you got a head start on today's lesson!" Mr. Park laughed at his own comment as Caleb's eyes turned to meet his teacher's. "Mr. Jacobs?," Caleb responded, wondering whether the question was accidentally too apropos. "Indeed, indeed. He tells me you brought some DNA samples that we might be able to assay today for our lesson." If Mr. Park's eyebrows could have lifted any higher, they would have escaped his face. Ambiguous though the references were on the surface, Caleb felt a surge of anxiousness. Mr. Park had thrust Caleb into a chess match of innuendo which threatened a verbal checkmate in just a few rather inelegantly direct moves. How was Caleb to respond with so many of his peers around? And furthermore, why was it starting to seem like every last one of his male teachers knew about the raw cocks that had spewn ejaculate into Caleb's rectum that morning? "Yes, I brought them," Caleb replied, considering each word as it left his lips. He took a brief pause to calculate what followed. "There's a slight issue though. The container has a hole, and I'm worried there's been some leakage." His desire to steer away from the hidden meaning that Mr. Park was so publicly flaunting had only driven Caleb nearer to the precipice of revelation. Mr. Park appeared bemused by Caleb's apparent, if veiled, confession. "I must say, such sloppiness does not seem characteristic of you, but the good news is there is no hole that Mr. Park can't fill." Caleb wondered whether his biology teacher had lost sight of the infamous sensitivity of high schoolers to sexual double entendre. Sloppiness, indeed. The laughter from around the room made Caleb acutely aware that the conversation with Mr. Park was now a spectacle. "Class!," Mr. Park needlessly summoned the attention that he already held, "I'm going to have you start working on the reflection prompt on the screen while I step out to help Caleb with something." Caleb's face felt warm as he followed Mr. Park out of the classroom. They rounded the corner into one of the central campus hallways before Mr. Park spoke again. "Mr. Jacobs tells me you are quite the little whore." Mr. Park's sudden directness caught Caleb by surprise. Caleb's cock stirred as he looked around to make sure no one had been in earshot. The biology teacher continued, "I have to applaud you for that oblique reference to your cummy hole that you made just now in front of your classmates." Mr. Park looked sideways at Caleb and smiled knowingly. "Your slutty profiles on all the hookup apps that you're always logged into have really captured the male faculty's attention, you know." Caleb felt a warm excitement swelling in him. The biology teacher continued, "Surely a smart student like you understands what an exceptional provocation it is to stay logged into location-based hookup apps during the school day with a profile headline like, 'Pussyboy for use.'" Breaking for a moment from the rousing implications of Mr. Park's comments, Caleb noticed further down the hallway the towering, broad-shouldered figure of a man leaning in a doorway. It was not an entry to a classroom, but rather one of the many normally closed doors that lead to a windowless room of which the general student populace knew very little. Because these various doorways opened into neither classrooms nor study spaces and given that they did not serve one of the several disciplinary or resource-gathering functions typical of an educational institution, most students bore only a passing awareness of them. Had any enterprising student endeavored to inventory all the many closed entries to these rooms of ambiguous function that perforated the St. Denis campus, they may have chanced upon a discovery that would have been at once mundane and extraordinary, for these ill-understood spaces far outnumbered their counterparts of known function. Surely they could not all be supply closets and back entries to faculty offices. Mr. Park, mistaking Caleb's momentary silence for embarrassment, offered, "There's really no need to feel self-conscious that we've all seen your profiles, you know. You will soon find that an ambitious young slut like you can really make the most out of what St. Denis has to offer. To be totally forthright with you, Caleb, I would be shocked if you didn't get off on the idea of being the campus fleshlight." Caleb's cock swelled against his jeans. The obscured figure down the hallway was now much closer. As Caleb and Mr. Park approached, Caleb was able to perceive the uniquely defined musculature of the head custodian, Mr. Martin, who was staring Caleb directly in the face. Caleb locked eyes with Mr. Martin, whose gaze was both stern and ravenous. Caleb could never quite tell if the head custodian was angry or just an unaccommodating sort who dispensed with pleasantries and the feigned interest that the rest of the administrative staff had perfected. Only now did Caleb realize that Mr. Martin's thick right arm was plunged deep into his pants where he was fondling himself rather aggressively. As they came into conversational distance, Mr. Park nodded in acknowledgement at the custodian, stating cordially, "Mr. Martin." The head custodian said nothing in return and instead, looked Caleb up and down. Undeterred by their proximity and Mr. Park's greeting, the muscular hulk of a custodian rubbed his unseen cock under his pants with abandon. At once unsettled and transfixed, Caleb could not take his eyes off Mr. Martin's self-pleasuring in the openness of one of the main campus hallways. After Mr. Park and his transfixed student had walked past the crotch-fondling head custodian, Mr. Park resumed in a hushed tone, "Between you and me, I wouldn't let Mr. Martin slide up inside you without a pharmacy's supply of antibiotics in the medicine cabinet at home. I would be shocked if that man has ever set foot in a clinic." Caleb's heartbeat quickened and his throat felt tight. For the first time that day, Caleb felt that he was in over his head. And yet, there was no mistaking that he found the shocking visual of the head custodian fondling himself so openly on school property combined with the details Mr. Park was imparting to be thrilling. Caleb felt like he ought to be repulsed. The biology teacher came to a stop and turned toward one of the many ill-understood doorways along the hall. After passing a keycard over an access reader, he pulled the door open for Caleb, who entered cautiously, unsure of what precisely he was to do. "Head all the way in," Mr. Park offered. Caleb proceeded down the dimly lit passageway before him until he found himself in a room filled with elaborate lighting and camera equipment. Before he could take in the full scene, Caleb felt the warmth of lips kissing his neck from behind. The abruptness of it was startling, but Caleb maintained his composure and acquiesced. The kissing continued up the young man's neck toward his ear, as Caleb felt a hand maneuvering its way past the waist of Caleb's pants and en route to his ass crack. There was a tenderness and gentle pacing in the neck kisses that seemed to serve as a cover for the brusqueness of the wandering hand, which had found its way between Caleb's ass cheeks. It was clear that Mr. Park's hand was not waiting for the student's permission to proceed to the cum-soaked hole at the center. Caleb pushed his pelvis back slightly to make access to his cum-fragrant underside easier. A finger pressed firmly against his hole and steadily progressed inside as Caleb whimpered -- as much in ecstasy as surprise. "You like carrying your teacher's cum around inside you, slut?" Caleb's eyes widened as he realized the man's voice behind him was not that of Mr. Park's. Who was this stranger kissing his neck while sliding a digit inside Caleb's warm, cum-soaked rectum? Where had Mr. Park gone? Caleb tried not to let his shock force his asshole to constrict around the finger working itself deeper into his pre-fucked underside. "Shhhh…. Keep looking straight ahead. Don't turn around. Do you understand?" Whose voice was this? Caleb couldn't place it. He felt his heart pounding against his rib cage. "Yes, sir," Caleb replied softly. A second finger slid confidently into the young student's anal opening. The moistness of the cum inside was more than adequate lubrication for the stranger's fingers. Remembering Mr. Sanchez's demand from earlier, Caleb tried to maintain enough tension in his hole to keep the cum from leaking out. It was a difficult balance to also not fully grip the two fingers that were now fully inside him. The stranger swirled his fingers in the cum juices inside Caleb's rectum and then pulled them out with a measured slowness. The cum-soaked fingers presented themselves under the student's nose. "Clean those off, pussyboy." Caleb sucked down the dripping ejaculate. As he swallowed, Caleb cast his eyes downward. A cum-slicked, thick black wedding band glistened. The young man savored the taste and fragrance of the cum as he sucked the strange man's fingers clean. The task complete, the hand withdrew. "Drop your pants and spread your ass cheeks for me. If I catch you turning around, I'll have you expelled faster than it takes Mr. Jacobs to cum." Caleb heard a zipper being undone. "Now, show me this cum-filled teen pussy everyone is talking about." Caleb complied, dropping his pants to his heels and leaning forward slightly. The young man pulled his muscled ass cheeks apart as he wondered if Mr. Park was watching all this transpire in silence. Caleb had been certain that the footsteps that had followed behind him down the short hallway and into this windowless room had been those of his biology teacher, but the way that the stranger had just appeared behind Caleb in the place where he had assumed Mr. Park to be made the young high school student question his senses. It was as though the strange man had stolen the very sound of the biology teacher's footsteps. To have done so in such a small, noiseless space seemed rehearsed. All Caleb could hear in that moment were the sounds of fabric moving against fabric. The stranger was summoning his manhood to the surface. Caleb felt the warm soft head of the strange man's cock come into contact with his cum-moistened hole, pressing firmly enough to just part Caleb's cummy ass lips without proceeding further. The man's hand grasped Caleb between the shoulder and the neck. "I bet you've never been raw fucked by someone you don't even know." Caleb recalled all the times that he had fantasized about being passed around by a group of masked men with enormous cocks in the woods or an alleyway or behind the supermarket. It was a fantasy that he had had since he had watched his first gay porn. Never, though, did he imagine anything quite like this. "No," Caleb replied as the stranger's raw cockhead pressed a few centimeters further into the young man's hole, parting his spermy sphincter readily. "Well, you better get used to it, pretty boy, because it's what your pussy was made for." Reaching around, the stranger brought his other hand up underneath Caleb's chin and, grabbing the young man's lower face, pressed upwards, forcing Caleb to arch his back to protect his neck. As the anonymous man did so, he plunged the full length of his raw dick deep into the teen's guts. Caleb gasped in pain as the stranger's cockhead stabbed into his second opening. Caleb felt full and winced at the pain from the unrelenting pressure against his second hole. The stranger, having forcefully bottomed out inside Caleb, held his raw dick in place, saying to the boy, "A handsome little bubblebutt cumdump like you is going to make Mr. Sanchez a lot of fucking money." The strange man kept pushing up on Caleb's chin, his grasp covering the young man's mouth. Caleb, through the pain in his rectum, felt the metal of the man's cum-soaked wedding band pressing into his lower lip. The stranger kept pressing his cock deeply into Caleb, until finally the young man's second hole eased its resistance and opened, defeated and compliant, to the pressure of the massive raw dick. "Listen to me when I tell you this, nephew," the stranger continued, his grip tightening around Caleb's mouth and chin, "Mr. Sanchez pays me handsomely to make sure little cunts like you don't end up talking to the wrong people about what goes on here at St. Denis. You're his property now, and he expects you to be the cum-filled community fleshlight that he deserves. Do you understand?" Caleb gulped for air as the pressure against his chin and neck was making breathing more difficult as he replied, "Yes, sir." The stranger pulled his cock out suddenly and plunged it immediately back into Caleb's fuckchute with full force. The sound of cum slopping inside the teen's ass accompanied a loud yelp. "I'm not your fucking sir. I'm your Uncle Ryan. Mr. Sanchez is your sir now. Tell me you understand, whore." "Yes, Uncle Ryan. I understand, Uncle Ryan." "Good, nephew." The stranger began sliding his cum-soaked cock back and forth at the opening to Caleb's second hole, massaging his cockhead deep inside Caleb's warm pussy. "Now I expect you to do everything that Mr. Sanchez tells you. I don't care how you feel about it, the answer is always, 'Yes.' So long as you're on school grounds, you are to be cleaned out and ready." "Yes, Uncle Ryan." "Uncle Ryan" continued edging his cockhead inside Caleb's second hole. "You are to take and hold as many loads in your cunt as you can arrange in the morning before school. This morning was the one and only time ever in your life that Mr. Sanchez is going to be loading you first in the day." Caleb gulped in some air as the pain in his second sphincter began transforming into pleasure that radiated up through his abdomen and into Caleb's nipples. Everything felt more sensitive than it had before. "Yes, Uncle Ryan." "You are not to let any loads leak out of you. No aborting in the bathroom or in your pants. And no letting another top suck loads out of you. Mr. Sanchez deserves nothing less than a full cum bath for his cock whenever he wants to plow your insides. Do you understand?" Caleb began relaxing into the intense micro-fucking that his inner sphincter was receiving. "Yes, Uncle Ryan." "Hear me when I say that my number one job is keeping Mr. Sanchez happy, and what makes him happy is having a tight, warm community fuckhole available to milk his nut out of him on demand. You are never to say no to any load at any time in any place. I don't care if it's your own father asking to breed you live on the evening news. You open up your pussy before any top even has to ask, and let him blast your insides with his DNA. Have I made myself clear, nephew?" The stranger thrust his hips as deep as he could into the young student, driving his dickhead deeper into Caleb's guts. Caleb gasped. "Yes, Uncle Ryan." "Good, nephew. Mr. Sanchez put my number in your phone. When he gives you your phone back, I want you to text me a selfie showing your face and cummy hole in the same shot. Now finish milking this nut out of my dick so Mr. Park can get his turn." Caleb began sliding his sperm-filled ass up and down Uncle Ryan's large cock, savoring the fullness in his lower abdomen and noticing how the scent of cum had filled the room. The stranger released his hand from around the youth's face and chin and placed his hands around Caleb's waist, pulling the student deeper down onto his dick with each backward thrust. "God that pussy smells like cum, don't it?" The voice of Mr. Park emerged for the first time from its diligent silence, "Oh, yes it does!" "What a sweet piece of AIDS bait this little fuckhole is." Caleb's cock leaked a large dollop of cum onto the floor at hearing the stranger call him "AIDS bait." Caleb kept up the work of massaging the stranger's cock with his cummy boyhole, arching his lower back to demonstrate his compliance and to discourage any of the frothy DNA in his rectum from leaking any more than it may already have been. Uncle Ryan's words ricocheted around in Caleb's head as the strange man kept drilling his raw cock deeper into the student. The phrases "community fleshlight" and "AIDS bait" held an almost lyrical resonance in Caleb's mind. He felt transfixed. Hypnotized. Even more thrilling than a stranger's raw dick sliding in and out of Caleb's used hole was the thought that Mr. Sanchez wanted a dirty little slut boy to be his personal fuckhole and that he wanted Caleb to be that slut. As the pounding continued, Caleb wished for nothing more in that moment than for Uncle Ryan to understand that Caleb relished the assignment he had been given, that he could not and would not fail to fulfill all of Mr. Sanchez's most salacious desires, that he would make Uncle Ryan not just satisfied but proud. Caleb yearned for the stranger to add his ejaculate to the warm, foamy pool of cummy slosh from Caleb's teachers. Knowing his biology teacher was watching it all transpire from behind was making the young man hungry for more dicking after the stranger was finished. Caleb arched his lower back as hard as he could as this so-called "Uncle Ryan" began shuddering. Caleb knew he was taking the stranger's hot load deep in his teen pussy. Caleb held on to the pulsating cockshaft as he imagined ropes of sperm spitting into his soft insides. That he didn't even know what Uncle Ryan looked like made the load he just received feel all the more hot. Without anyone else knowing it, the teen smiled and bit his lower lip as he let Uncle Ryan finish unloading his balls inside the handsome teen's rectum.2 points
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Hi! This is my first story that I've ever written. I'm not a writer at all and I don't claim to be good at it but I wanted to contribute something to this site. There are probably a ton of typos and grammar mistakes. Feedback and comments appreciated. Definitely a WIP. Part 1: My name is Ian. Just a regular young gay. 5'8. 175 pounds. Very middle of the pack in terms of looks. I'm barely 20 and currently on summer break from college. I'm staying with my parents while I wait for the next Fall semester to begin. I couldn't find a summer job so I'm absolutely broke. No money, no dates, no fun. Before this summer, I've only had sex once in my life, it was while I was away at college last semester. I ended up playing with an older, bearish guy, maybe in his 40s. I guess I have a thing for older men. He was kind of shady but lived close to the campus I studied at. I got really horny one day and he ended up messaging me. We met up at his place and traded blowjobs. He wanted to "put the tip in me" My anxiety flared but I declined and said I had to go. He tried to get me to stay and fool around more but I managed to muster up enough courage to tell him no and leave. That was the extent of my sexual experience. I still think about that moment, what if I let that guy fuck me? Would it have felt amazing? What if he gave me an STI or something? I was too anxious to try anything with anybody else the rest of the semester but sometimes I would think about that encounter when I jerked off. One day, I was bored at my parent's place so I decided to hop on one of the gay apps. I wasn't looking for a hookup, I was just being nosey and I wanted to see who the local gays were around my parent's town. *DING DING* I got a message on the app shortly after logging on. PapaTop was his name. He didn't have his age in his profile or any kind of bio but I'd guess early to mid 60s from his pics. He was a big man, 6'3, 350 pounds. Balding with big sloppy belly that hung out of his tank top in all of his pictures, and wrinkled skin. Big impressive gray beard but if I'm being honest he was not a very handsome man at all. He fit the description of a dirty old man. His first message was a compliment towards me which made me feel obligated to message him back. "You're a handsome boy. How are you?" "Fine." I responded. "How about you?" He immediately responded "Horny. Looking for a hole to unload in. You're my type. Small and easy to throw around, lol" I was kind of shocked about how forward he was but I kinda blushed because someone was giving me a bit of attention. I replied back with "No thanks, I'm fine." I thought that would be the end of the conversation but he immediately sent me a message back that included several pics of his thick dick, a couple of them looked like he had his bare dick halfway inside a few different assholes. He cock had to be at least 7 or 8 inches long, I was a bit surprised. "You sure boy? I want to slide into you deep. I’m all top, I only fuck raw, and I got a lot of dick to give." I didn't respond. I started to feel hot and my cock twitched just a bit but there was no way I was going to hook up with someone who was old enough to be my grandpa. He had a nice cock but you couldn't pay me enough to hook up with him. Later that night, I got into bed and I felt a bit horny from earlier. I was bored of the usual material I used to jerk off with so I picked up my phone and started scrolling through that app again. For some reason I clicked on my messages with PapaTop and reread them. The pictures he sent along with his dirty talk made my dic twitch again.. I thought to myself that maybe I can do a little sexting with him to get a quick nut off. Shouldn't hurt right? I messaged him back. "How deep, Papa?" My cock sprung up thinking about his thick meat sliding into me. A few minutes passed and he messaged me back. "Balls deep, Boy.. I wanna take you to paradise. Boys get addicted my dick after I've bred them." We messaged back and forth for a bit, sharing pics and dirty talk. I was mostly leading him on for mental images to store in the spank bank, I had no intentions on hooking up with this giant troll. I just wanted to use him for a quick nut. I started stroking my dick as we chatted. He started getting very vulgar with his dirty talk. Telling me how I could be his live-in fuck boy. How we could play together all the time, and he'd fuck me good. Make sure I'm charged every night. At the time I didn't understand what being charged meant so I just played along and said "Yeah. That's hot, tell me more Daddy." I started stroking my cock faster. "I want you to come to my house. As soon as you come in, you're going to strip completely naked and put my ass on my face, boy. You're going to get tongue fucked until you're wet amd loose and then daddy is going to fuck you good. Daddy's going to plant his poz seed in your ass and make you my dirty son." Wait, poz seed? I was a bit inexperienced but I knew being poz meant he had HIV. And he wanted to infect me? Make me his dirty son? My thoughts were all over the place but I felt my body starting to tense up as I thought about his "poz seed" filling me up. He messaged me again. "You want that, boy? You want me to own your ass and give you my toxic load? Come over now boy. It's waiting for you." He sent a The mental image of his thick dick, thrashing and twitching inside of my hole came into view. His dick spewing out poison into my guts while he called me his bitch boy. I popped my nut and several ropes of cum blasted across my belly. Suddenly post nut clarity hit me and I felt disgusted. Did I really just cum from the thought of this old man with HIV fucking me? I put my phone down and went to sleep. The next day I woke up to a message from PapaTop "I'm free today. Come service my dick boy, I have a big load for your ass." I cringed and responded that I was busy. He said that he was free all week and he had a special gift for my ass. The idea made my cock twitch but I fought back the urge to entertain him. "Sorry man, I'm tied up all week." He was persistent. He messaged me for the next few days, practically begging me to come over and sit on his cock. I didn't want to block him because our conversations were actually normal and pleasant when he wasn't trying to seduce me. I tried to change the subject as I usually did, I wanted to make him lose interest in fucking me. We had a very mundane chat about his job as an office manager before he retired. He mentioned a couple of stories about dumb boys he managed to lure into his office so he could breed them during his lunch break. He sounded a bit predatory in his stories, almost like he had to trick or coerce most of his partners into having sex with him, given his looks that was understandable. I tried to prevent the conversation from going into sex talk but that seemed to be on the forefront of his mind at all times. Eventually, the conversation started to dry up... until I mentioned that I was getting my degree in IT. "Boy, you never told me you were good with computers. I actually have an old computer that's been giving me problems, can't get the damn thing to work. Maybe you can come over and take a look at it?" I sighed. Ugh, he just wants me to come over so he can fuck me, I'm not that dumb. "Papa, I don't feel comfortable coming over. You're a nice guy but I don't want anything to happen between us. You're poz and you already told me that you only fuck raw. I'm not interested in taking that risk." "Boy, who said anything about sex? I can be civil. Promise. How about I pay you to come over just to look at my busted computer. Maybe we can have a drink and shoot the shit while you're here. It would be nice to have a little company." It sounded like an easy job and the idea of getting paid sounded good to a broke kid like me but there's no way I'm getting lured into that predator's home with promises of cash and booze. I started typing up another response to tell him no thanks but suddenly the thought of his cock stretching my ass and unloading open entered my mind again. A mix of being horny and curious made me reply back with "If it's just business, that should be fine." I felt uneasy about visiting a stranger's home but the danger kind of gave me an adrenaline rush. I thought to myself that I'm a grown man, I can just leave if things start to get weird. I felt my dick twitch hard after we finalized plans for me to visit. "Boy, I think we're going to have a blast. Can't wait to have you."1 point
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Hope this isn't going to be too long for people to read but want to share my recent first time and know what others may think about it. I'm married and occasionally suck cock because of experiences many years ago which i have posted here before. As I am married I don't get much opportunity. Back in May on the bank holiday we had for the Kings coronation I had the opportunity to go out on my own. I got on my hookup app and soon had the interest of a mature top couple and after a few messages I was driving to their home to suck them both. When I arrived I was asked if I would be ok being hooded and plugged. I'd never done anything like that before but my sub brain was already kicking in and I said yes without really thinking about it. They were both well built men in their late 50s or early 60s but both quite fit. Once I had agreed they were quite forceful in telling me to undress. Once I was naked I had a rough hood put over my head. It wasn't tight fitting so it wasn't too scary but there was only a large hole for my mouth and i couldnt see anything. I was then told to kneel and get on all fours. I felt a cold slippy feeling around my bum and felt a buttplug being pushed in. I'd never been plugged before but it went in ok and i felt quite excited by it. I was then told to straighten up but remain kneeling and i was aware of a cock in front of my mouth demanding my attention. I went straight to it. Hands and mouth. Taking it deep, sucking hard. I started to hear lots of verbal abuse which motivated me more onto that beautiful large and hard cock and i received a good throatfucking and took his load deep without tasting. I could feel hands caressing my balls from underneath and behind and was aware that i had quite an erection myself. They were talking to each other about me. Calling me a slut and a little whore. They said i wanted fucking. I didn't say no. I just remained quiet and at their service. The plug waa removed and i felt the cocl at my hole. I was extremely nervous and worried about embarassing myself. The cock pushed in a long way helped by the lube left by the plug and i was being fucked for the first time. Bare cock in my ass taking what he wanted. I was his slut and his cock whore and i loved it. To be honest my heart is still thumping nearly 3 months later. I suppose i even may have been filmed, but they seemed like ok guys. I hope they liked what i gave.1 point
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Athlete Two Confused. That is how Adam ‘Pickle’ McCormick felt when he opens his eyes. It what the slight swinging movement that woke him up. He was on his back, naked, spread-eagled, hands and feet firmly cuffed to posts. He was able to move his head. Each movement made the sling rock a little. He didn’t even know the device he was in was call a sling, but he did know about the small - very small - cock ring that was tightly squeezing his balls and cock. He was small down there, thus his nickname. He learned that early in his life. All his teammates had seen it, and he was grateful that none of them ever teased him about it. Except for the nickname. But for now, due to the cock ring, his small male attribute – his pickle – was standing tall at a 2-1/2 inches over two marble balls. Adam didn’t know how long he was there. Not too long, he said to himself, as his arms weren’t numb yet. It was not totally dark but couldn’t quite distinguish where he was. He could feel that he was in a larger room. Like a gymnasium. It was silent. He tried to call for help, but his voice was muffled by a hard plastic ball gag. He was alone. So, he thought. Adam quickly snapped out of his reverie when a low, deep voice from a man behind him asked. “Are you gay, Adam?” “No… why… who are y… Arrrrgh! Fuck…!” While startled by the man behind him, Adam didn’t see a second man coming between his legs who swiftly brought down a wooden ruler to his exposed balls. “You just answer my question and nothing else, do you understand?” the voice asked. Before he could answer, another whack was given to his small balls. “Yes” “It is yes Sir” the voice commanded at the same time as the ruler punished for third time is now sensitive sack. “Yes sir” Adam replied quickly. “You are not gay, but you like to put a finger in your ass when you masturbate. Isn’t it?” How the man knew that? Adam thought for a few seconds. Surely, he is fishing! The second man gently move the ruler over his balls. Forcing his head up to look at the man in front of him, Adam knew that it was not a man you want to mess with. The man’s head was shaved and shirtless. A lot of tattoos ornated his muscled body. No fat there. The man tilted his head indicating Adam to answer the question. “No… not really. I mean, I might have by curiosity, but no”. Adam’s answer was not convincing, but the man said nothing. Someone – the man? – maneuver the sling so Adam found himself in a sitting position. Like in a gynecological chair. All exposed. Suddenly, in front of him, a large screen illuminated the room allowing Adam to acknowledge his surroundings. He was in a small movie theater, maybe 20-24 seats. “It is movie time, Adam.” The man was standing next to him on his right, dressed in an expensive dark suit. Adam was unable to ignore the man’s cock in his pant. The cock didn’t make a bulge instead it was stretching the trouser, snaking down obscenely. The second man – his torturer – rolled a cart full of DVDs. “Who the fuck uses DVDs these days?” Adam thought. “There are over 2350 hours of movies in there. You pick the movie” the man said calmy. “Pick a number between 1 and 675” Adam frowned. “What I am doing here” he asked. “Let me go” For a sole response, the shirtless man started squeezing on one of his balls with 2 fingers. “500” Adam blurted out as pain courses through his body. “Good choice” To Adam’s surprise there were about a dozen men sitting in the theater. The man brought a hand to his chest and teased his nipple. “Enjoy the movie. I sure will do” the man chuckle. Adam froze. The view was of a bedroom. His bedroom! How was it possible? Then a door open and Adam saw himself coming out of the bathroom, naked from a shower, his small hard cock leading the way. He was dancing, moving his hips. If his cock would have been bigger, it would have swing, but no, nothing was moving except his hips. Some men in the room were cheering and laughing. Adam remembered exactly the scene playing before him. It was last fall when his parents were on vacation and left him alone for a rare time. He had strutted naked in the house almost the entire week! Entertaining himself with a jerk fest in very room of the house. Adam closed his eyes, trying to understand how the recording was possible. Another cheering forced him to open his eyes. The Adam on the screen was on the bed, on his back, knees at his head and was pumping two fingers in his freshly hairless ass. “Oh yeah, fuck me. So good” Adam was humiliated beyond possible as he heard the room exploding in laugher. The video lasted 44 minutes, by then most of the men were naked and stroking their cocks openly. “Still not gay, Pickle?” The man was now stroking Adam’s cock, pulling the foreskin back completely, exposing the wet glans of the small cock. “We have time for another movie. Pick another number” Adam hesitated between 1 and the last one, 675. Assuming they were numbered chronologically, the #1 would tell him when it all started, and the #675 the last time he got filmed. As if the man sensed his hesitation, he told Adam “It doesn’t really matter, you will get a copy. You will be able to watch all of them” “A copy!?” Adam asked incredibly. “Yes, a copy. You already have a paying website of your own on the dark web, ready to be launched unless you obey all is asked from you like a good obedient slave. Your choice really” Unbeknownst to Adam, the site was already active for a while now and edited videos of “Pickle, the jock” was bringing a lot of money. “If you want my advice, #579 is worth to be seen” The man was still playing with his cocklet, and Adam was slowing reaching the point of no return. Adam just nodded. “579 it is! Dimitri let’s play “Pickle and his cousin”! Adam relived last New Year’s Eve when his older cousin, Mario, force him to give not 3 or 4, but 6 full blowjobs over the night until sunrise. All with a full load of cum that Adam swallowed after showing it to his cousin, mouth wide opened and after swishing it around his mouth – to make sure he remembered how his cousin tasted until next time. A 7-hour movie. No one really watched it as most of the men face-fucked him before getting sloppy turns at his gaping ass. The first one to bust his cherry ass was his torturer, the guy’s name was Dimitri. He was not very big, but he fucked non-relentless, like a machine, tearing his inside and flooding him with the first cum of the day. He would remember his first fuck for the rest of his life. And three more things of his deflowering. The first is how everyone laughed at him when he asked Dimitri to wear a condom “You are the condom, Pickle!” and Dimitri thrusted his hard cock in the tight ass. The second thing is Adam spewed his cum while being fucked “Yeah, give us your last negative load” he heard the men said. The final thing was how he got mesmerized by the scorpion tattoo on Dimitry’s flank. The scorpion was moving on its own as Dimitry was doing a belly-dancing fuck. “Oh here it comes… fuck… take my poz babies' sweetheart… Unngh… Unngh… argh… oh fuck… unngh… fuck… fuuuuuck…” It was over. Dimitri fucked his cock few more time in the warm ass, pushing the cum as deep as he could until his cock became too sensitive. Dimitri presented his semi-hard cock to Adam. “Clean it” Adam smelled the dirty cock before he tasted the slimy mixture of ass, blood and cum. After that, it was cock after cock. He was just a cum dump for men with real cock. When all the men had left, a still naked Dimitri came back and untied him from the sling. Although he did physically nothing during the gangbang, Adam was exhausted. Dimitri had no problem moving him to a bare room with only a large bed. The first man with the deep voice was there. Adam watched him removing his clothes. If the trouser did nothing to hide the large cock, the fancy boxer was even more revealing. “Oh fucking shit, the man was huge! His cock was thick. Thicker than any other men that fucked him today. And longer, like you would see in some porn movie. Adam found the strength to crawl back as far as possible on the bed leaving behind him a trail of cum which made Dimitri laughed sadistically. The man was going to fuck Adam like no one ever did. Dimitri was now holding him in his arms, stretching his nipples as a distraction. The man pushed his massive cock into the cum-lubricated ass. Adam felt being a virgin again. After this fuck, he will never be the same again. “You are mine, Pickle, you are mine” as the man kissed Adam’s neck. *** While Adam was deflowered a second time, Joey was on his knees learning to worship balls. He was blindfolded, but he knew he was lapping and sucking balls from various men. They were patient, guiding him slowly on how to please the man above him. Each pair of balls was different: shape, size, hairy to hairless, smell. Joey resigned himself to do what they asked, then it will be over. He would go back to his life and forget about this. He was on auto-pilot and licking balls like it was natural, paying enough attention to follow the directives but, unfortunately for him, not enough for him to avoid his impending punishment. “Now, identify the owner of the balls” “What?…” a disturbed Joey asked. He remembered each guy introducing themselves, but he never tried to associate and memorize the guy to his balls. Joey failed miserably. His punishment was a success. His balls had doubled in size and already turned from angry red to dark purple. Despite the reassurance they gave him, Joey was sure that he would never be able to have children in the future. “Well, to start, you were never meant to have children.” His punisher told him. “Five minutes rest, then we start the cocksucking lessons”, a different voice said.1 point
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I've got a friend who is a fellow bottom and on a couple of occasions we've gone and played together offering our holes side by side to any passing top(s). It is very horny when the top moves from my hole to his and then back to mine again ( and repeat!). It's entirely up to the top who gets the load but you always know that it's gone to a good home1 point
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I feel in love with two guys in my life. But the first guy didn’t felt the same. He fucked me like I was his girl though. Despite having a girlfriend that time. Recently, for awhile. Another fuck buddy I enjoyed for years and turn into a heated love interest. I found out he is divorced and I had to find out on my own terms he has 3 sons with her. He doesn’t know I know he has kids. But I understand we may not have a romantic relationship because of his complex relationship with the ex wife and their kids. But he knows how to fuck and he makes feel like I am a significant for him.1 point
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Of course they were able to tell. And I'm not being a cynic in saying that. There were people interacting with Biden who could see the cognitive decline but for the sake of the party and an election, they were willing to gaslight people on the narrative until they could see that "Emperor has no clothes" moment in the 2024 debate. Peter Doocy came out with a post series on X yesterday that cited his knowledge from being in the White House Press Pool and his conclusion was that people chose not to pay attention. It's called a complicit media. As Americans, we have a right to know who knew what and when, as well as who was actually guiding the country. That isn't being disrespectful, but questioning if he could even make decisions, or who was running the auto-pen. The press has and continues to lose credibility with me and most of the public. The figure I've seen is 86% of the public holds a distrust of the media. And Jake Tapper is a total cunt in my view. Among others, he lied to us (commission or omission) and later penned it into a book. If you felt like Biden was forced on you, how did you feel about being denied a primary and having Harris shoved down your throat? Much the same as Sanders being cast aside in favor of both Clinton and Biden. As for dementia, my Nan had it and I could tell when she was in her late 60's based on the behaviors and loss of memory. Over time, it was just amplified degrees of being mean, since she always had been but when the dementia took hold, it got ramped up to 11. Now that things are emerging about Biden, people are starting to relate that they felt that he wasn't engaged or understood much of what he was being told. I wouldn't quite say that he "had partners in the governing process" but that people behind the scenes were actually running things, potentially without his knowledge or understanding. That makes one entire branch of government pretty dysfunctional if the single leader of that -- the person people thought they voted for -- was not cognitively at the helm. Even during the debate prep, the details have come out that he lost energy and interest and often went away to take a nap. Pretty certain that detail was from another tell-all. You might not like Trump, and he leaves some things to be desired, but we've seen more interaction with him and the press even in the first 100 days having extemporaneous conversations than we saw in 4 years of Biden. And the interaction from Biden even then was very tightly scripted ("they told me I need to call on..."). I want to call on the prostate cancer issue. Scott Adams of Dilbert fame also came out with his late stage prostate cancer and he's said he likely has just weeks to live. That's not a sudden thing, especially someone who should be receiving the top-tier care of a President. Does anyone really feel that it had been missed, it was very sudden, or that the timing might be a method of deflection when the questions are hitting too close to home?1 point
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Bend me over and slide in; there is no need to turn my head to see who needs to get off.1 point
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(this is a work of fiction describing my personal fantasy how it might happen in a few chapters)1 point
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Not in an inflationary chasm?! Have you been to a grocery store recently? Or pretty much any store? And I'm not talking about major purchases such as automobiles. Meanwhile discretionary income has shrunk for all but the wealthiest individuals and not only here in the U.S. If you can't see any work on infrastructure then you aren't looking. Everywhere I go highways, bridges, airports-- upgrades or replacements all across the country.1 point
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Been a while I admit..... Met up with a couple of friends on Sunday, few drinks and a meal. I was dessert for the male half of the couple. Wife watched hubby tongue my hole for a good 15 mins before fucking me nice and hard over the kitchen table. I left with 2 loads deep in my hole, and another invite for next weekend.1 point
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I bottom more now days and I expect to get that load in my hole. I make it clear if I top or bottom BREEDING IS EXPECTED. If a guy doesn't ask and I breed him I always ask how that POZ load feels in side him. I don't pullout.1 point
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His cock head felt hot as it slipped between my sweaty arse cheeks. It was so hot in this room that my crack was already slippery with sweat, and it got slicker as his precum mixed with my sweat. I closed my eyes and my heart was pounding like a drum in my chest. I was so incredibly turned on but also terrified about the massive poz cock poised at my hole. "My my, you do like to live...dangerously don't you? I wonder what the odds of you converting in one fuck would be?" he spoke as he slowly rubbed his cock between my cheeks. His cockhead brushed my tight virgin hole and I flinched, but at the same time a jolt ran up my spine, I was so turned on. "How dangerously, I wonder? Hmmm......maybe you'd like to flip for lube? Or condoms?" Wait, what? Was that one flip? Or two? I couldn't quite figure out what he meant, I tried to nod and shake my head while asking in muffled moans round the gag for him to please use a condom. I heard the flick and slap of him flipping another coin behind my back again. "Ooh, bad choice I'm afraid. No condoms or lube it is. I do hope your not the type to welch on a bet." John lined his massive cock up with my virgin hole. I'd never inserted anything bigger than a curious finger up there and now there was a bare poz cock beginning to press against it. It was somewhat slippery from the sweat and precum that had slicked my crack, but not enough for this! I clenched my jaw and bit hard into the rubber ball gag as my hole burned and stung, straining to accommodate the invading cockhead. The pain abated very slightly as the head popped in and John eased back from pushing in. "Oh, that is a lovely, tight arsehole you've got there. Can't believe your so happy to just risk that lovely neg hole getting ruined on a silly bet." He slowly started to slip the first little part of his cock in and out of my poor hole. The burning increased again, but I could feel it starting to become a bit slicker. How much precum was that poz cock leaking into my unprotected arse? And why was my cock so hard, even through the pain radiating from my arse. "Whoops, think I might have torn you up a little getting in there. Little bit of bloods nothing to worry about though." John chuckled as he worked more of his cock into my hole. I continued to bite the gag and tried to breathe as my hole was slowly stretched and I began to feel the red hot length of his cock slide slowly further and further into my rectum. After some minutes, as John thrusted in I felt his balls slap my arse as he finally bottomed out. My arse was on fire and it felt like his cock was trying to take up some serious space in my abdomen. As he fully penetrated me, he leaned forward and rested his hands on the small of my back, pushing me down. I felt a drip of sweat fall from him and hit me between the shoulder blades. "Well, don't you fit like the perfect cock sleeve! With a little persuasion. Now, how about a real bet?" I tried to catch my breath. I shuddered and writhed slightly on the iron bar piercing me. What the fuck else? What did this guy have in mind for me!1 point
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Your cunt is a muscle, you have to exercise it. Agree with @Pozguyinchi. Wear plugs regularly, and work up to wearing them for longer periods of time...1 point
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Introduction: A Forbidden Desire For years, I’ve carried a secret fantasy—a desire so intense, so [banned word], that it has shaped the way I think about intimacy and connection. The idea of being converted, of surrendering completely to a poz top, has consumed my thoughts and ignited a fire deep within me. This isn’t just a passing curiosity or a fleeting fetish. It’s a lifestyle choice, a calling that I’ve felt compelled to answer. Five years ago, I stopped taking PrEP—not out of ignorance, but out of a deliberate decision to embrace the raw reality of what I’ve been longing for. The Thrill of the Chase There’s something electrifying about the chase—the anticipation, the risk, the surrender. Barebacking is more than just physical pleasure; it’s an act of trust, an exchange of power, and an invitation to experience something primal and transformative. I crave the feeling of skin on skin, the heat of raw passion, and the knowledge that every encounter brings me closer to my ultimate goal: conversion. It’s not just about the act itself—it’s about belonging to a brotherhood, becoming part of something bigger than myself. Grindr: The Hunt for My Poz Plumber Grindr has become my hunting ground—a place where fantasies collide with reality. My profile is unapologetically direct: I’m seeking poz tops who are ready to breed me raw and take me to the next level. Every conversation is a potential gateway to fulfillment. Some fizzle out; others spark something deeper. But I’m relentless in my pursuit, driven by the knowledge that somewhere out there is the man who will make my fantasy a reality. The Decision to Stop PrEP Five years ago, I made what some would call a reckless decision—but for me, it was an act of liberation. Stopping PrEP was my way of fully committing to this journey. It wasn’t easy; it required courage and conviction. But every day since then has brought me closer to the life I’ve always dreamed of living. I know the risks—I’ve studied them extensively—but they only fuel my desire further. The thought of being bred raw by a poz top is intoxicating, overwhelming, and impossible to resist. Looking Ahead I won’t stop until I find him—the man who will take me beyond fantasy into reality. Until then, I’ll keep writing about my experiences, sharing my thoughts, and connecting with others who understand what it means to crave conversion. This blog is my confession, my manifesto, and my roadmap to fulfillment. Version Française Introduction : Un Désir Interdit Depuis des années, je porte en moi un fantasme secret—un désir si intense et si tabou qu’il a façonné ma vision de l’intimité et de la connexion humaine. L’idée d’être converti, de me livrer entièrement à un top poz, consume mes pensées et allume un feu profond en moi. Ce n’est pas une simple curiosité passagère ou un fétiche éphémère. C’est un choix de vie, un appel auquel je me sens obligé de répondre. Il y a cinq ans, j’ai arrêté la PrEP—non par ignorance mais par une décision délibérée d’embrasser pleinement la réalité brute de ce que je désire depuis toujours. L’Excitation de la Chasse Il y a quelque chose d’électrisant dans la chasse—l’anticipation, le risque, l’abandon total. Le barebacking est bien plus qu’un plaisir physique ; c’est un acte de confiance, un échange de pouvoir et une invitation à vivre quelque chose de primitif et de transformateur. Je désire ressentir le contact peau contre peau, la chaleur d’une passion brute et la certitude que chaque rencontre me rapproche de mon objectif ultime : la conversion. Ce n’est pas seulement l’acte en lui-même ; c’est l’appartenance à une fraternité, devenir partie intégrante de quelque chose de plus grand que moi. Grindr : À la Recherche de Mon Plombeur Poz Grindr est devenu mon terrain de chasse—un lieu où les fantasmes se heurtent à la réalité. Mon profil est sans détour : je recherche des tops poz prêts à m’ensemencer raw et à faire de mon fantasme une réalité. Chaque conversation est une porte potentielle vers l’accomplissement. Certaines s’éteignent ; d’autres allument quelque chose de plus profond. Mais je suis implacable dans ma quête, porté par la certitude que quelque part existe l’homme qui fera basculer ma vie dans une nouvelle dimension. La Décision d’Arrêter la PrEP Il y a cinq ans, j’ai pris ce que certains qualifieraient de décision imprudente—mais pour moi, c’était un acte de libération. Arrêter la PrEP était ma façon de m’engager pleinement dans cette quête. Ce choix n’a pas été facile ; il demandait du courage et de la conviction. Mais chaque jour depuis m’a rapproché du mode de vie dont j’ai toujours rêvé. Je connais les risques—je les ai étudiés en profondeur—mais ils ne font qu’alimenter davantage mon désir. L’idée d’être ensemencé raw par un top poz est enivrante, bouleversante et irrésistible. Regarder Vers l’Avenir Je ne m’arrêterai pas tant que je ne l’aurai pas trouvé—l’homme qui me fera passer du fantasme à la réalité. En attendant ce jour-là, je continuerai d’écrire sur mes expériences, de partager mes pensées et d’échanger avec ceux qui comprennent ce que signifie désirer la conversion. Ce blog est ma confession, mon manifeste et ma feuille de route vers l’accomplissement.1 point
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I was on a cruise ship for the first time, 4 night 5 days through the Caribbean. Paid the extra fee to have a solo room so was open to whatever came my way. Checked out the LGBT event and it was very few people, kept enjoying my time just relaxing. Day 3, I wake up early and go for a walk around the ship. I see this short guy doing laps on the top level of the ship where I was walking and we exchanged eyes about 4 times during the rounds. That many days with no play I was super on edge and horny so decided after my walk to go to the sauna to walk and then ultimately my plan was to jerk in the showers before heading on my day. I walk into the gym area, find the locker room, change outta my clothes, grab a towel and hop to the showers. Already in the shower I’m rock hard even tho who far I haven’t seen anyone. Quick rinse and head out to sauna, I walk in and there two older guys there, both sitting pretty separately, I find a spot across the way from one but distant from everyone and sit to relax. Still half hard from my shower I notice the guys both keep glancing at my dick, I start tugging a bit just loosening my foreskin, stretching my balls. After a few minutes, one guy heads out so it’s just me and one other guy. He starts jerking himself so I do the same until we’re both watching each other and matching rhythm. Suddenly the door opens and the guy gets spooked so immediately just grabs his towel and walks out while the another guy walks in. Tattooed all across his chest and a towel around his waist he sits directly across from me and I notice it’s the short guy that was jogging earlier. I had grabbed my towel and covered myself when he walked in but once he’s sitting I take my towel off to expose my half hard and growing dick. After a few minutes he takes notice and comes forward and starts stroking me, I’m precumming already. He’s asks if he can sit on it and I immediately say hell yeah. Expecting him to turn around I spit on my cock and start jerking but he drops his towel and to my surprise, starts climbing on my lap while using spit to lube his pussy. I’m fully bi so def have fucked pussy before but wasn’t expecting this at all but before I could even think twice, he guides me into him and starts riding me. Soft, wet, tight and gripping - it felt so fucking good. I could feel precum dripping out and making the fuck smoother. I couldn’t help myself and started pulling him closer and closer grinding as deep as I could go. Within a few minutes, I cum the biggest load in a while deep inside of him. He keeps grinding so churning my load and getting every last drop out of me. Finally jumps off my lap and sucks my dick clean. I grab my towel to head to shower. I motion for him to follow… to be continued1 point
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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." * * *1 point
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I think it's super hot. I think a good submissive slut should clean my cock when I am done. No matter how dirty it is.1 point
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Thanks for all the feedback guys and for your patience. Hope you enjoy this newest addition: The black stud stood just inside the door and moved his hand down to the already-thickening bulge in his tight jeans and began massaging the growing lump. He turned his face toward Leather Daddy and said, “Damn man you told me you had a couple fucked up pigs here but this is hotter than I'd expected!” His voice was deep, kind of a baritone, and was full of lust and masculinity. “His ass tight on your fist boi?” he asked, looking into my eyes. “Yes, Sir,” I answered. “Tight and warm and hungry.” I inched my arm forward slightly, causing Trevor to moan deep and push back immediately onto my fist and wrist filling up his fuckhole. The black god chuckled and stepped forward a couple feet. “Sounds like you like your pig bro's fist inside your pussy pig,” he said to Trevor. “Do you?” “Oh gawd yes I do Sir! It feels amazing! Need my hole stuffed with something all the time!” The visitor stood right in front of Trevor, grabbed a handful of his thick curly sweaty black hair and pulled his face right into the obscenely packed crotch of his pants. Trevor moaned hungrily and began licking the full crotch of the jeans and rubbing his face against it. “Would you like to feel my big black daddy dick stuffed up your cunt slut? It's huge as fuck. Can you take this much up in your hole boi?” Trevor was sucking on the covered meat pressed against his lips and panted, “Yes, Sir, Please!! I can take it Sir! I have to feel your big black daddy dick stretching my pig hole open. Fill my ass with your huge fucking cock Sir then fuck me until you give me your cum and mark me! PLEASE!!” “Hungry cock whore aintcha? Don't worry slut, Daddy Mason is going to feed you.” Trevor groaned with anticipation when he heard that. Daddy Mason stepped back and dropped his massive frame in a leather chair a couple feet out of the reach of Trevor's mouth. He looked at me and ordered me to ease my fist out of the bottom pig's hole. As I began pulling back slowly from Trevor's gripping chute Daddy Mason took the loaded pipe and torch Leather Daddy handed him and began heating up the bowl, watching the need for more smoke clearly showing on Trevor's face. “You look like you're hungry for more than just Daddy Mason's cock in your hole pig. You're hungry for more of this fucking awesome white smoke too aren't ya?” “Yes Sir, Daddy,” Trevor answered, his voice husky from all the smoke he'd inhaled already. “I fucking love sucking down the white smoke. It makes me hungry for more cock and cum and piss. It gets me so ready Sir to take all 3 of you in my mouth and ass and be your cumdump and urinal.” Daddy Mason took a long draw from the pipe looking into Trevor's sweaty face and black eyes. Just as he exhaled a massive cloud of smoke in Trevor's face I freed my fist from the tweaked up pig's ass with an audible “pop” and a moan from Trevor. “Now that your ass ain't filled crawl over here slut and get Daddy's black monster out of these pants and start worshipping it with your mouth. Do a good job boi and you'll get to suck down more smoke too.” Like the meth-and-cock bottom whore he now was, Trevor didn't need to be told twice. With a deep animalistic sound out of his throat the tweaked up knocked up sexy fucking pig crawled quickly between Daddy Mason's spread legs and pressed his tongue against the covered nuts full of the sperm he craved, lapping hungrily at the area as his hands and fingers worked quickly to unsnap the button and pull down the zipper, the only things separating Trevor's drooling mouth from the massive meat he was eager to impale his throat on. “It's fucking huge, Daddy!” Trevor moaned. “Beautiful fucking huge black daddy dick!” With the last word I watched the cock whore run his tongue across the wide piss slit lapping up a big pearl of precum as he began tugging at Daddy Mason's pants pulling them down his muscled thighs and freeing the entire shaft and cum-heavy nuts. The BBC exposed to us was the longest and fattest cock I had ever seen! It had to be 11” long and easily 5” to 6” around. “Holy fuck!” I moaned as I felt my mouth water and my partyed up ass twitch in hunger and desire. From behind me I heard Leather Daddy laugh softly as he whispered erotically in my ear, “Yeah, boy, my sexy black friend has an awesome fucking piece of black meat, doesn't he? I knew you'd like it, you and your bottom pig brother both.” I groaned and pushed back against Daddy as I felt him pressing his sweaty hairy chest against my back and felt the thumb and forefinger of each of his hands grab onto my hardened nips and begin pulling and twisting them. “Do you think the slut will be able to take all of that black fuckpole down his throat or up his sloppy boicunt?”, Leather Daddy continued as I felt his tongue, lips and teeth working on the side of my neck. “I want to see that Daddy,” I moaned softly. “It'll be hot as fucking hell to watch Daddy Mason's fat hard raw dick disappear inside both of the pig's holes! Hearing him scream getting stretched wider than ever and at the same time begging for Daddy Mason to give him more!” We were watching and slowly grinding against each other as we saw Trevor pull off Daddy Mason's pants leaving him totally naked before the groaning cock pig between his wide spread legs. “Lick Daddy's nuts boi,” he ordered the whore. “Let me feel your tongue working on my nuts and getting them ready to unload the first load for you. The first of many. Show Daddy Mason how bad you want what he has to give you.” With a growl Trevor buried his face in the black stud's groin and began noisily slurping and licking and kissing the orbs of flesh that held the essence he needed. Daddy Mason took a huge hit off the pipe as Trevor feasted on the full balls and Leather Daddy continued to work my nips and rub his leaking toxic cockhead around and onto my hungry fuckhole. “Fuck yeah, you damn little cock pig!”, Daddy Mason cried out exhaling a huge white cloud of sex smoke down on Trevor. “That's it pig! Work those nuts. Make 'em give up what they're carrying and flood your fucking throat. Feed you Daddy Mason's thick special cumload filled with what you need boi!” Turning my head slightly so I could watch the scene before me but still whisper into Daddy's ear, I asked him, “Special cumload? Does he mean what I think he means, Daddy?” Leather Daddy ran his tongue up my neck to my ear, using the tip to tickle just inside the ear, and whispered back, “He sure the fuck does, son. Your pig brother is about to get another strain of poz cum dumped down his throat! And then some!” (to be continued)1 point
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Their English web site. [think before following links] https://ajpnia.berlin/WELCOME/OUR-PARTIES/1 point
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9. Le Papillon Usually coming out of the Queens Midtown tunnel you’d make a left to go downtown back to their apartments, but Jamal, the one driving the black Camero back from Fire Island, exited the midtown tunnel and drove to Park Avenue and made a right. “Why are we going uptown?” Manetti asked suspiciously from the backseat. “We need to make a deposit,” Drax responded from the bucket seat ahead of him. The sports car charged up Park, careened around Grand Central and raced uptown through the tall canyons of office buildings and apartment complexes. They zipped along Park Avenue with its meridian of summer flowers. It was approaching sunset, and the late afternoon light reflected a kaleidoscope of orange suns off the myriad glass towers. They passed a church whose late day service was just letting out. Chris spotted two twin girls in matching blue Sunday dresses and white gloves whispering secrets in each other’s ears. “Christian,” Drax began in a happy, singsong voice, “Do you remember our first night together?” Jamal looked over at Master Drax with a toothless smile recalling the night. “Not really, Master Drax,” Chris replied. He looked out his window at the center divider’s hundreds of flowers—red begonias, white tulips, blue lilacs. “I remember up to where Jamal peed chem piss in me, but I don’t remember much after that.” He cracked his window enough for some of the lilac aroma to stream into the car. “Pity,” Drax said, looking back at the boy. “We had such fun. You laid on by chest and played with my nipples, while I fed you poppers and showed you how much fun it was to stick needles in your penis. We had a whole ladder running up your shaft. You cried at the first, scared of the first needles I put in you, but after a while you said you liked it. You don’t remember any of this?” Chris shook his head emphatically. “Pity.” Drax’s attention drifted back out to the street observing the Waldorf-Astoria fly by. “I remember something hurt,” Chris said staring at the back of Jamal’s head, reliving a vague stinging sensation that sent a shiver down his back. Manetti watched him. The kid was finally back in his own clothes wearing what he brought with him, torn jeans with rips in the knees and a grey t-shirt with a yellow, flaking Adidas logo on the front. He put his arm around Chris and pulled him into his black vest. Chris inhaled the leather and looked up at Manetti’s troubled face. “I saw Ben last night,” Chris said softly. Manetti held him out at shoulder length, and search his face. “At the party?” Chris nodded. “Apparently,” over his shoulder, in his Caribbean lilt, Jamal said, “he beat the boy senseless with a sword not know it was his little brother. And then he fisted him, and then he fucked him, until the boy passed out.” “I didn’t pass out,” Chris stated flatly. “Yes. Ben confessed that,” Drax said. “For whatever reason he was distraught about it. I told him the only thing to be upset about is that we didn’t get it on tape.” Drax twisted around to confront Manetti. “He got back to your apartment at dawn, came over agitated, had been up for four days. He said he’d done some outrageous things to the boy to which the boy refused to surrender even a whimper. I tell you, Christian has the making of a true star, he just needs a little more experience.” Drax observed the boy looking out the window at all the tall buildings going by. “Obviously it was you who brought the boy to the compound, which is how I knew where to find you. Christian, please,” Drax said, annoyed. “Roll up your window. The air smells like an old cunt’s boudoir. This one, Jamal.” Drax pointed to a street up ahead. Jamal turned left, and they proceeded down a street of pink and cream-colored townhouses, most with small ivy gardens lining the narrow sidewalks. Chris rolled up his window watching an elderly lady with a cane walking her Toy Spaniel and another lady walking toward her with her little Pekinese. As the ladies passed each other the Pekinese leapt at the Toy Spaniel and bit its neck. A tremendous high-pitched scuffle broke out. Chris whipped back around and watched out the rear window. The two elderly ladies were yelling at the other, each pulling their dogs apart by their throats. The Spaniel lady took her cane and harshly jabbed the Pekinese. It yelped, wounded, and the Pekinese lady pushed the Spaniel lady, and the lady fell backward onto the sidewalk hitting her head on a cement planter. Other pedestrian came over to the skirmish until he couldn’t see the ladies anymore, or their dogs, because of the crowd that surrounded them. “This one,” Drax called out, pointing to a townhouse that had a small garage door. Jamal pulled up to the door, and Drax reached over and honked the horn. Chris looked up at the four-story building. The façade was all white carved stone. It had tall arched windows, three across, on the second and third floors. The fourth floor windows were smaller and he could see bushes and trees peeking over the roof. Heavy, ornate iron and glass French doors were set back at the entrance, with a shiny brass placard next to the garage door. Dr. Pierre Bichon, MD, it read, Plastic Surgeon. Despite its understated elegance, there was something fortress-like about it that Chris didn’t like. The garage door rose electronically and Jamal descended into the townhouse bowels. Once they were in, the garage door lowered and the afternoon glow dimmed into a dark cave. Two large orderlies waited alongside Drax’s door. One of them, a very large bald man, opened it for him. Drax got out and pointed into the backseat. “That one,” Drax said, pointing to Manetti. Built like a tank, the bald orderly jerked the bucket seat forward and reached in for Manetti. His chrome head reflected the single bulb hanging in the small garage. Manetti used his boot and, with an enormous roar, kicked the guy with all his might. It sent the orderly reeling backwards, bouncing into Drax and the cellar’s elevator door. The second orderly, taller and even meaner looking with dark, close cropped hair, gritted his teeth and charged into the backseat shoving Manetti into Chris. Chris climbed on the guy’s head, swinging his fist wildly against his head and ear, while Manetti sent a fist flying into the guy’s throat. The guy fell back choking. Jamal swung around, pushed Chris aside, and covered Manetti’s mouth with a white rag. The bald intern came barreling back into the car again and pressed his enormous gut over Manetti’s face, pinning him against Chris. Manetti swung wildly, but crammed as he was in the backseat, the gut punches he threw had no power in them. He flailed until the effects of the rag’s chloroform took effect. Chris felt him weakening and after a minute Manetti fell like a rag into his lap. “You’re the deposit I needed to make,” Drax said to the unconscious Manetti. “As are you,” he said to Chris. The second orderly reach in and grabbed Chris by his t-shirt and tore him out of the Camero. *** The six of them were packed like sardines in the small elevator, Manetti held up by the two orderlies in the back, Chris between Jamal and Master Drax in the front. It was hot in the slow-moving elevator, and smelled like sweat, antiseptic and cheap aftershave. Chris watched the elevator buttons change from G to 2 to 3. The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. Drax nudged Chris out with Jamal following. Chris looked back, watched the doors close with Manetti out cold in the hands of the orderlies. The townhouse was richly appointed, designed for a high-end clientele. Chris had never been exposed to this kind of luxury. The house in Queens was lavish, with its pink marble kitchen and its bright shag carpets, but this was like being in a museum. The elevator deposited them across from a large waiting room with a heavy mahogany reception desk. The waiting room stood empty. It felt like the whole place was deserted except for a soft shuffling on the floor above. Two black and chrome couches faced each other with mahogany end tables on either side, each topped by lamps with shades made out of stained glass in the shape of dragonfly wings. A tall grandfather clock chimed softly six o’clock as they plodded down the hallway. Thick oriental runners covered polished walnut floors, and white molding ran the length of the tall ceiling. Stark black and white photographs in large black frames lined the ivory walls. A black naked dancer; a single white calla lily; the singer Patty Smith, with her dark hair and white shirt he recognized from his brother’s record collection. As they walked down the hallway he peaked into a series of small dazzlingly lit examining rooms. The house was lavish in its details but the emptiness made it feel creepy. There was something fake about it, like a veneer so thin you knew it was covering a structure built on rot. Without warning a great commotion exploded upstairs. It made the three of them jump. There were a couple of soft thuds, and the house went back to silence and the ticking of the grandfather clock. Descending the staircase ahead of them, making it creak loudly with each footfall, the bald orderly, out of breath, met them at the bottom. He told Drax the doctor would be there shortly. The only room that wasn’t open was at the end of the hall. When they got to it, the orderly pulled a set of keys from his retractable keychain on his belt and unlocked the door. Drax pushed it open and brought Chris inside. The orderly stood at attention to the side of the door, and Jamal, frightened, refrained from following them in. The complete opposite of the other examination room, this one was painted minty green and looked antiquated, like everything was from decades before. It had a grey metal examination table with stirrup that raised by silver wheels you cranked to raise or lower them, and brown leather straps all around the edges. The cabinets that lined the walls were white painted metal and greenish beveled glass. One forty-watt bulb lit the room so it felt somber and grave, that is, until Drax switched on a standing lamp with tripod legs. Its big bulbous light was blinding. It focused solely on the examination table. A dark grey tray next to the table shined with a selection of medical instruments. Chris recognized a set of sounds right away, but the other instruments were foreign and frightening: pointed clamps that ended with flat pink rubber, other clamps that ended with jagged pinchers; spreaders of various sizes, some long, some wide, one the size of his arm; an assortment of wheels with various lengths of sharp pins around their circumference. Then he spied a green painted metal and glass cabinet that stood separately in the corner. It contents sent a chill down his spine. Black masks and blindfolds on mannequin heads, one with zippers for eyes and mouth, one with no eyes but a long tube that made it look like a fly’s head, one with no eyes, no mouth, and two small holes at the nose. Who thought of these things? On second thought, he didn’t want to know. There hung, opposite the door above the exam table, a single photograph in a large black frame similar to the ones in the hallway. In the photo a bearded leatherman stood over a boy in a wingback chair who was encased entirely in leather and chains. The formality was almost comical, almost normal looking, like a father and son relaxing in their den, except for the fact that the boy was locked in leather and chains! From the hallway, Jamal’s eyes were wide and wary. He seemed to be familiar with the room and wanted no part of it. Drax saw he was unsettled, and told him to wait in the car, he would be down shortly. Drax then closed the door. He pulled Chris’ grey t-shirt off him, and instructed him to hang his pants and underwear on the hook on the door. “Where’d they take Mike,” Chris said, unwilling to move. “Quick, before doctor comes,” Drax said, annoyed the boy hadn’t obeyed. “Do I need to get the orderly?” he asked archly. Chris thought about that for a moment, then began removing his shoes and socks reluctantly and hung his jeans and underwear on the door hook. Drax patted the exam table and Chris grudgingly climb on it. There was a small knock before a man opened the door. Chris was shocked. The man appeared identical to the leatherman in the photo. Bearded, tall, with dark hair, deep-set eyes, trimmed black brows, no, not in leather but wearing a white lab coat. But what was most shocking was, in a split second, Chris realized the lab coat was all he was wearing. His bare chest was hairless, and his well-defined legs were hairless, too. He wore black leather lace-up boots, but beside the lab coat, that’s all Chris could see he had on. His eyes glistened maliciously, and the moment he saw Chris, his flashed a wide, white smile that emitted lust and little joy. “You must be Christian,” he said to the naked boy on the exam table. He carried a clipboard in one hand and extended his other to Drax. The two men shook. “So much more youthful than I had imagined.” The doctor put down the clipboard on the counter and cranked the two metal stirrups. “Please place your legs in these, son,” he requested. Chris hesitated, but a stern look from Drax prompted him to comply. Chris had to lean back on his elbows to get his legs in the stirrups. The doctor came to his side and encouraged him to lay back. The metal table was ice cold, so Chris laid back carefully. The doctor shined a light in his eyes. “When was the last time he was medicated?” Drax looked at Chris to answer the question. “Uh, Mike slammed me last night before the party,” Chris answered. “Is Mike okay?” “At least once every twelve hours. I thought we agreed that for first week all new boy would be medicated at least twice a day,” the doctor scolded Drax. “Michael absconded with him, which is why Michael is now upstairs,” Drax responded. “Christian, this is Doctor Bichon. He’s a very important man with whom we have a special, bartered arrangement. You’ll be staying the night here in his charge. He’s going to take good care of you, and you must do everything he says no matter if you want to or not. Do you understand?” Chris got out of the stirrups and sat up. He’d had enough being ignored. “What’s going to happen to Mike?” he asked Drax sharply. “Are you going to skin him alive? That’s what the bad men in Queens said you do.” “Christian,” the doctor said, putting his hand on the boy’s bare shoulder. “Christian, we don’t skin people alive.” Chris shrugged off the man’s hand. The doctor turned to Drax. "You see, this is what happens when they’re not regularly medicated when you take them in. I recall years ago you were lax with Michael, too, and you see where that leads.” Dr. Bichon looked up at the ceiling. “Christian, I’m going to inject you with something that Master Drax says you like very much.” “No!” he said emphatically, jumping off the table and going for his clothes. “Barkley!” the doctor shouted. The bald orderly came in quickly and grabbed the naked boy. Chris kicked and fiercely fought to get away, but the orderly was much bigger, and inevitably got him back on the table. While he was being held in place, the doctor strapped his wrists above his head and, with his legs over the stirrups, he secured him in place. Chris was seething, breathing angrily through clenched teeth. The orderly stood to the side of Chris’ head, Drax by his right foot. Out of a drawer the doctor pullout out a syringe, then riffled through a shelf looking for the vial he wanted. While he searched he casually asked Drax, “If want him to retain this youthful look, I should like to castrate him. It will also make him more docile.” This caused Chris to start struggling even harder in his binding. He looked at Drax who was mildly angry, but also amused by Chris’ ornery, helpless resistance. “It would be a shame,” Drax said. He reach over and picked up the boys testicles weighing them in his hand. “Beautiful walnuts, aren’t they, doctor?” He put one testicle between his thumb and index finger and pressed down hard, making the boy yelp in pain. He let go of his ball sack and gave it a smack. “A good five centimeters, I’d say, maybe slightly more.” Bichon put down the hypodermic needle and started massaging Chris’ ball sack. “If they were grape size I’d say why not get rid of them, but I can see why you’d want him to keep these. Much less fun to play with if he were neutered. What about if I give him a subincision, not a full one, just perhaps starting at his piss slit here,” Bichon suggested, running a fingernail down the boy’s rising shaft. “Just enough to get your finger in his urethra. Raw accessible flesh anytime you wanted. You could urinate inside him. Use your largest sounds on him. Tear him downward, bit by bit. There’d be so much you could do to drive him wild.” Drax examined Chris’ face closely. He read his defiance and his fear. Chris eyes started to well despite his best effort at controlling his growing terror. “I think,” Drax said, pausing to emphasize to Chris just how much his fate rested in his next few words, “for now, Doctor, I’d like to keep Christian intact. Feel free to use him however you wish, though, but no permanent mutilation tonight. If you’re inclined add some decorative touches. I do think two small nipple rings would be attractive on such small boy titties. Even a wee Prince Albert, ten or twelve gauge, perhaps. Whatever you think would look best.” “Rather than a P.A., what about an apadravya,” Bichon suggested, holding the top of Chris’ semi-erect dick head, “just like his brother’s, a stud straight through the glans, top to bottom. A matching set of Prior boys.” The two men laughed. “I leave that to you, Doctor. I’ll come by around noon tomorrow to see how the patient upstairs is adjusting, and to pick up the boy. Enjoy your evening. Pierre, Barkley,” said Drax. “Christian, be good. Or if you can’t be good, be compliant. I’ll learn from doctor either way.” He closed the door behind him. “Barkley, his head to the side, please.” Bichon watched Chris fight but there was no choice once the orderly pressed his ear to the table, leaving his neck exposed. “Just a booster, son, a quarter gram. I want you to enjoy yourself as much as I will. I want you compliant, not comatose. Relax, breathe normally. This might sting a bit.” The doctor swabbed the point of entry with alcohol, and then stuck the plunger in and slammed Chris directly in his brain. No middleman. “Now how does that feel?” “Oh fuck. Oh shit,” he said with clamped teeth. “I can’t, I can’t,” Chris said, panicked as his body twitched on the table. The orderly released him mildly concerned. “He’s fine. Just relax, son. Enjoy it.” The doctor and the orderly observed the naked boy, now sporting a large erection, writhing on the table. “Thank you, Barkley. That’ll be all for the evening,” he said, excusing the bald man, who tried to hide the rising lump in his white pants. Once he’d left, Bichon took a key from his pocket and locked the inside of the door. Bichon undid his lab coat revealing a black leather harness over his hairless chest. A thin horizontal line of pubic hair rode above his long, curved cock. The doctor hung his lab coat over Christian’s jeans and approached the boy. His balls were as large as limes and swayed as he walked. “You feel good?” he asked. Chris nodded. “Good. You want cock?” Chris nodded again. “Very good. Why don’t you start by sucking my cock, son.” He’d heard from Drax the boy was an excellent cocksucker, and it was true. Such a soft, wet mouth. He humped Chris’ face slowly, feeling his long member ride down the boy’s esophagus. Such a smooth face, only peach fuzz for a beard, light brown narrow brows, wide-set eyes like his brother. It was difficult for most cocksuckers to get his bent dick all the way in, but Chris seemed not to have a problem. His brother Ben never did. He held his dick down the boy’s throat, holding the back of Chris’ head until his trimmed pubes rubbed against the boy’s wet lips. Chris started gagging, but Bichon held his head firmly until the boy started retching heavily. He released him, with Chris drooling out a pool of saliva on the table’s edge. Chris was rushing trying to catch his breath while his brain spun out of control. Energized, high, feeling good and bad and nervous and angry, and most of all wanted that big dick back in his mouth or any orifice—his emotions bounced all over the place like they were in a pinball machine. He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t remember where he was. Lived only in the Taoist moment of now. A mint green room. A tall, naked man in a leather harness, playing with his nipples, causing them to be erect. The man took out an instrument off the tray, long slender clamps with hollow tips, and pinched the shit out of his left tit. Through the hollow ends of the clamps, the man jabbed a needle through his nipple. He hollered while the man thread a thin ring replacing the straight needle. The man put a hand on Chris’ chest, telling him to lie still while he clamped the other nipple. Chris struggled when another clamp pinched his right tit, but stopped when the man holding the needle aloft waited for Chris to calm down. Once he did, the needle pushes through his other nipple, causing Chris to scream out again, as the man slipped another small ring into place, completing Chris’ first set of tit rings. The man stepped back and admired his work. “Magnificent,” he said, and stroked his curved dick. He then brought out a paddle shaped object that had its center cut out and put Chris penis through it and then forced his balls to also pop through the hole. Around the paddles edge were a series of quarter inch nails. Bichon took small rubber bands and crisscrossed them so his balls protruded, tightly swollen, in two large separate spheres. He took out a wheel that had small sharp pins and ran it lightly over one testicle. Chris jumped in surprise at how painful yet fleeting it felt. Then Bichon treated his other ball to the same sensation. Again he jumped. Chris’ mind raced—he couldn’t focus on where or how or why these new confusing sensation were being forced upon him. Bichon then ran the spiked wheel up his shaft ending in his piss slit. The delicate interior of his urethra being stuck with the wheel's sharp pins, made him cry out in alarm. He knew he was higher than fucked, but he also knew he didn’t have to understand pain to feel it. “Let’s set some ground rules, son.” Bichon brought over a hood, the one that looked like a fly’s head, and held it ready to put it over Chris’ head. No cutouts for eyes, and only a long tube to breathe through at the mouth. At the end of the tube there was an attachment, into which Bichon placed an open bottle of poppers. The doctor explained, “Words like stop and no, to me, Christian, mean you want me to do whatever I’m doing but harder or more of it. Screams also tell me to accelerate. Your job is to strive to endure the pain, breathe into the pain. Desire it and you’ll overcome it. Ready?” the doctor asked starting to pull the hood over Chris head. Chris shook his head no. “But, son, look at your erection. It answers mais oui.” Chris looked down at his betrayer. His cock was at full attention, eager it seemed to be tortured. The hood slipped over his head and he felt the doctor pulling laces, tightening it at the back. He was still rushing from the meth, confused now in partial sensory deprivation, breathing through the tube in a state of panic. He felt the poppers taking over and soon wanted the doctor to touch him again in any obscene way he wanted. He didn’t have long to wait as the wheel, with its agonizing pins, ran over his chest from newly pierced nipple to newly pierced nipple. Each time he jumped, Bichon waited until he rested back down to the table, then ran the wheel again over the same sensitive tit. Then there was a long pause and the clinking of metal. A cold hard shaft ran its length along his piss slit before it invaded. Not like the smooth sounds that Mike had inserted into him, this rod had harsh ridges every quarter inch. His urethra was erupting, the jagged edges felt like glass slicing him open from the inside. He screamed in terror and agony. “Which means he wants a bigger one,” the muffled voice of the doctor said in the black void. The rod came out and he soon felt a larger diameter rod take its place. This brought even greater torment. He tried to breathe through the pain, taking in deeper hits from the bottle. With each huff, it was not that the pain no longer resonated, it’s that he desired it, started humping the rod, wanting it to ram into him, tear his cock to ribbons. Bichon’s greased hand gripped Chris’ cock and jacked him. Chris felt tormented but he was also in the throes of lechery, pumping his hips into Bichon’s fist, calling out yes through the tube. He was just about to cum when Bichon release his erection. Chris still poked his hips in the air but with no resistance, his desire to cum receded after a time. The rod was pulled painfully out of his dick and replaced with a very narrow smooth rod. Curiously it just floated easily down his shaft simply resting against his prostate. Bichon let it lie there for some time. So long that Chris thought the doctor had left, when suddenly he heard an electronic buzzing and the rod came alive inside his shaft. A vibrator touched the tip of the sound and the million vibrations hammered not just throughout his shaft, but beat directly against his prostate. Pre-cum had formed and Bichon played the vibrator all around the glans, moving away, down the shaft, vibrating between his balls, finding where the rod was down deep inside his body, never letting Chris get used to any one area for more than a few seconds. Bichon knew how to continue to stimulate him, tease and torment him, shred his libido apart until he was putty in the doctor’s lubricated hand. Again, he felt close to cumming, breathing yes into the tube. And Bichon again released him before he could release. He heard the doctor rise, a drawer opened, and then what sounded like rustle paper. The doctor return to his stool with a squeak on the linoleum. Chris heard rubber gloves being snapped in place and then hear the sound of ripping paper, repeated maybe twenty times. His dick was still erect but not as fiercely as before. Then he felt Bichon pull the rubber bands off the board that held his cock and balls so his scrotum, unrestricted, relaxed into a fleshier bag. He felt Bichon lightly pinch the bottom of his scrotum, pull the skin down, and then felt a sharp needle pierce his skin and pin the flesh to the underlying board. He cried out in distress and shock. It wasn’t agonizing but it did hurt. Apparently his ball sack didn’t have as many nerve ending to torment. He then felt the right side of his penis pressed down flat against the board and another pin impaled that skin to the board. He let out a muted cry. Then the other side of his shaft was laid flat and another pin went through it, nailing his dick to the board. “Le Papillon, son. The butterfly. Agréable, no?” “No,” Chris called inside the tube. “Which means, yes you do. Do more, Doctor Bichon. Do my whole willy,” the doctor said in a mocking voice. “Okay, son, I shall.” The doctor pressed the skin between Chris’ shaft and balls and put a needle first on one side then the other. He pressed all around Chris’ balls placing a needle, alternating sides each time, until his entire scrotum was flattened to the board. He then worked one side of his shaft alternating with the other. Chris realized this wasn’t going to stop and breathed in the poppers until he looked forward to each pin’s pain. After a while he felt it didn’t hurt as much as it did at first. The doctor quietly spoke to him, “As you penis become more flaccid, the skin is pulled much less, alleviating the pain to a certain degree.” He was correct. As the doctor was finishing the last few areas of his shaft not yet pinned, he continued, “The warning I give to you—and you can reflect on this in the dark—that should you become aroused, your manhood will once again swell, and you will start pulling harder against these pins. As your erection has done before, this area,” the doctor floated his fingers across the top third of Chris’ phallus, “will try to rise off your belly anywhere between a thirty to forty-five degree angle. This will be the greatest area of pain, that is, unless of course you ejaculate. An orgasm will make you twitch from balls to tip. That twitching would cause you much suffering, so I would advise fighting against gratifying that desire. Resist, if you can.” He had finished the last needle along his shaft, the last wince of pain, when Chris heard one last paper ripping. It sounded like a much bigger piece of paper, which meant a much bigger needle. “Take a deep hit off your popper, my son,” instructed the doctor. Chris felt the side of his cockhead pressured, then stabbed, then pierced, then pain travel excruciatingly through the entire glans, right through the urethra, poking through the rest of the fleshy cockhead and coming out the other side. This wasn’t soft flesh being pinched. This was full on damage inducing pain that produced a horrid scream inside the mask. “Which means you’d like another,” said the doctor. “Please, Sir, I’d like some more,” he said in the same mocking voice. Chris cried no in his tube. “Oh, yes. Another two then.” Chris clamped up as another needle came out of its wrapper, Chris breathed rapidly inhaling the popper, trying not to cry out, crawled into the head of a masochistic, rode the pain of the next needle on the top of his cockhead, above where the first one pierced, and then, since he didn’t cry out, the last needle sliced through his glans, lower, below the first. He felt like he was on fire. His fingers and toes clawed the air. It was hell inside his black hood. A stream of tears silently ran down his temples. He felt his body sliding around on the exam table. Felt exposed, helpless, felt that mercifully the worst was over. A piece of metal was struck and he heard a low tone brought to his ear. He was confused. A tuning fork? The sound went down his to his prick and he felt the tone touch the rod inside his urethra. He’d almost forgotten the metal rod was there. Immediately the tonal vibration was picked up and rang through his shaft. It felt intensely satisfying sending waves of pleasure from his dick spreading throughout his body. His cock stirred, then he knew what the doctor planned. Another tuning fork struck the metal table. It was a higher frequency and was brought up to his ear. Again the sound traveled down to his genitals. Again it touched the tip of his penis and sent the rod vibrating. So two opposite and equal sensations traveled through his body: one, the ravishment of sexual delight as this quicker vibration beat against his prostate and throughout his meat; the other, growing anguish as the arousal began to swell his cock and it began pulling harder against the restraining pins. The more he was excited the worse became the pain. As the tone faded, he anticipating an even high tone. But he was wrong. The familiar buzzing of the vibrator clicked on. He rocked his head from side to side. Bichon touched him once lightly in the balls searching for the metal rod. Finding the small metal pole grew Chris’ erection significantly, ripping his flesh against the pins. Then the doctor touched the three needles pierced through his cockhead. It both stung and excited him with a sensation he could never have imagined. Against his will he felt his cock trying to flick up off his belly. The doctor ran the vibrator up and down his shaft, indistinguishable from a lubed hand not only jacking him externally, but jacking him inside as well. Drugged, sense deprived, unanchored from reason, floating within a black void, seeing nothing, he felt even more vividly each sensation. The thought of his body acting against him got him harder still. The rewiring was beginning. He wanted to scream against the anit-logic, the cognitive dissonance his body put him through, amplified, echoing in a world only of sensations. It wasn’t fair! Bichon kept the vibrator coming back to his cockhead. Three needles pierced him, the middle needle touched the sound, so whenever the doctor stuck the vibrator on the tip of the sound, not only did it vibrate directly against his prostate, it also send shockwaves through the needle vibrating directly through his glans. It hurt like hell and yet sent him into orgiastic heaven. Each time Bichon went there, Chris, despite himself, repeated through the tube that he was about to cum, and each time Bichon moved the vibrator away. Bichon wanted to see how long he could keep this up, to see if the boy would actually ejaculate after having explain in detail what cumming would do to his delicate member; to see if the boy’s mind would rule over the boy’s body. He knew the answer. Bichon left the vibrator sitting on the sound for minutes, moving it around only slightly, rotating around the head, always keeping it in contact with the rod, hitting the other three needles that pierced the glans, each one, when touched, sending new punishing waves of lustful bliss shooting out in all directions. Increasingly Chris couldn’t speak, no words, no thoughts to express, only guttural, animal urghs and unggs rose deep from within his chest. It was as if his heart was crying out. He was a creature trapped on the edge of eternally cumming, never able to get over the wall—two steps forward toward sexual gratification, two steps back in withering agony. Bichon finally, not for the sake of pity for the animal on the table, but wanted to see the boy fall off the cliff. He slipped in his middle finger into Chris’ anus. He poked and prodded the boy’s prostate pushing it up against the vibrating sound. Chris had no choice but to plunge headfirst of the edge. The ejaculation was excruciating, sending his stiff, long cock flying away from the board, pulling on all the needles, some of which popped off, stretching the skins with every round of ejaculate he spewed. Sperm leaked around the sound with each relentless orgasm. He came and came and came, and each time thrilled and was punished for his pleasure. The last sound that he emitted was not a word but a sound of discovery, an ahhhh! that soldered his most pleasurable sensation welding it pain. “Very good, son. Very good.” Bichon shut off the vibrator and the room was deadly silent, except for the sound of distressed breathing emitting through the tube. Bichon unpinned Chris’ dick and balls. Lastly he withdrew the sound. The doctor wiped the kid’s dick off—no bleeding had occurred—and massaged the penis in a slow, soothing rhythm. He could tell the kid was spent, but the boy would still be up for hours because of the meth amphetamine. The doctor took off his gloves and, from a cabinet, took out a black box with a large dildo attached to it. He put the box on a tray at the end of the exam table and locked the wheels in place. Christian was putty. It was easy to strap his knees up toward his ears so his hole spread open and vulnerable. Bichon twisted a dial on the box and the dildo slowly oscillated forward and back. He pushed the dildo into the boy’s rectum and turned the dial a little higher. The black phallus pushed in six inches and then pulled out. Christian moaned fervidly inside his hood. His mind was gone but his body reacted to the phantom lover that he felt crept over him. His fingers and toes curled in pleasure. The boy’s cock was withered and the new sensation of continually being fucked came as a relief. Bichon changed the bottle of poppers to a new one and let Chris stew in his sightless limbo for the rest of the night and into the morning—the dildo mindlessly, mechanically fucking his sleepless, mindless body. Bichon put on his white coat and unlocked the door. It was time to prep Manetti.1 point
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