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Thanks everyone for the kind words and encouragement! I hadn't originally planned on more of this particular story, but I think I have 1 more part after this to finish it up. This one isn't heavy on the poz, mostly set-up. ____________________________________________________________ We didn't stick around. Jake was ready to leave almost as soon as Tim finished so we gathered our things and left. On the drive back to campus, my head was reeling. What had I done? I had let a total stranger cum inside me. What I did know is that it had felt amazing and I definitely wanted more of the high I was still feeling from being filled up by both of them. Jake noticed I was deep in thought and asked, "You ok man? That was so hot! Sorry about the condom though, I know that's not what you were expecting. It was good though, right?" "Yeah, it was fine. I got kinda caught up in the moment," I laughed. "Awesome, I'm glad you liked it. I've met up with Tim before, but it's been pretty much all oral since I'm a top too. He's been trying to get in my ass for a while now. Glad you were into it." He patted my thigh and gave a light squeeze. I wasn't sure what to think. As the post-nut clarity settled in, it seemed more and more to me like I had been "set up" and that made me nervous. Tim had certainly been eager to fuck me, and I didn't really understand what he had meant when he said I had "saved" Jake or what a "toxic" load was... though if he had been trying to get Jake to bottom for a while, it was probably just getting to the point where he was really going to lay on the pressure. I could understand Jake wanting to shift some of the attention away if that were the case. I was quiet for the rest of the drive and quickly made my way back to my room, noticing that my ass felt a little wet while I walked. When I pulled down my underwear, there was a large wet spot that was obviously cum that had leaked out of me. There was a strong scent that I could only describe as pure sex that wafted up to my nostrils and I couldn't help but breathe deep as my cock started to stand at attention. I jacked off replaying the encounter in my mind and came harder than I think I ever had before... I didn't hear from Jake for a few weeks after that. I knew he had other guys he played with, and I had some other options as well, but everyone I hooked up insisted on condoms, and I realized Tim had been right when he said I wouldn't want to go back. I couldn't quite get the experience with Jake and Tim out of my head. I still thought it was wrong to have had sex without a condom, but it had felt so good I was second-guessing just about everything I thought I knew. My hookups were satisfying me less and less each time and I found myself drawn back to Jake in the hopes that he would be more willing to give me what I really wanted. But it had been almost three weeks and despite messaging him a few times, he hadn't responded. One evening, I was especially horny and decided to try one last time before finding a different guy. "Hey Jake, it's been a while. Interested in meeting up again? What's going on?" A few minutes later the computer dinged and I saw a message from him. Finally! "Hey buddy, I'm good. Sure, we can meet up. You free tonight?" I quickly typed back that I was available and before long I was over at his place. Jake didn't need much convincing to go in bare this time since we had already done it before, and soon he was pumping his first load of the night into me balls deep. With his cum inside me, I finally felt satisfied, like scratching an itch that had been there for a long time. Lying next to each other on the bed while we waited for round 2, my thoughts drifted back to Tim and I decided to go out on a limb. "Hey, have you heard from that Tim guy recently?" Jake froze. "Tim? Oh yeah, he messaged me a couple times, but I'm not really into him anymore. He got a little aggressive about wanting to top me and I'm not into that so I haven't really been talking to him. Why?" "Oh, that makes sense I guess. This just reminded me of that time and I was curious." My heartbeat sped up a bit thinking about it and I unconsciously pushed back against Jake, feeling his wet cock against my ass. "Yeah, I guess it did open up some fun stuff for us, haha." Jake chuckled, reaching down and wiping a drop of cum from the tip of his dick on my leg. He paused for a moment and then said, "I can give you his number if you're interested. You guys are probably a better match than me and him." Now it was my turn to freeze. I wasn't sure what I wanted in terms of Tim and the offer honestly caught me by surprise. It had been a hot time with all three of us, but with Jake willing to cum inside me, I didn't know if I really needed Tim to get my fix. Then again, that dick was huge and as good as Jake was, he didn't open me up the same way... "I'll message the number to you tonight and you can decide," Jake said, pulling me close. I could feel that he was starting to get hard again. "But enough about that, I'm not done with your ass." We spent the rest of the evening enjoying each other and I went home with 3 loads in my ass and a warm fuzzy feeling in my brain. By the time I arrived, Jake had sent me Tim's number, but I put it aside since I was feeling pretty good with things as they were. Over the next week, Jake and I spent a lot of time together, each time ending with me full of him cum. Clearly he was just as interested in putting loads in my ass as I was in having them there. I was definitely starting to get cravings for cum in my ass and I found myself counting down the hours during the day before it was reasonable to message Jake for a hookup. That Friday, I messaged him to see if he was available but I had forgotten it was a holiday weekend and he wouldn't be available. I logged onto my computer to start looking at who was around when I saw Jake's last message with Tim's number. I lingered there for a few minutes, reading it over and over but stuck in indecision. What did I really know about this guy? Maybe I could just be ok with a regular fuck to tide me over until Jake got back to town. I sent a few other messages online but 30 minutes later, I still didn't have any responses. I started to get desperate, it shouldn't be this hard to get fucked... I opened Jake's message again and stared at the numbers. I stared for a long time, probably 15-20 minutes fighting with myself over whether to reach out to Tim. Finally, the horny part of me won out and I wrote out a message, trying desperately to sound casual. "Hey, not sure if you remember me, but I'm Jake's friend from a few weeks ago. He gave me your number and said you might be interested in meeting up again. You have plans tonight or this weekend?" I read my message over and over, convinced that Tim would be turned off by my eagerness. I deleted and rewrote the words a few times before I finally said "Fuck it!" and hit send. I immediately felt regret - there was no way this was going to work. Tim probably had plenty of guys on his roster and wouldn't be interested in me again. But to my surprise, I got a text notification right away. "Hey boy, good to hear from you. You been sick recently?" I wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean... but I felt perfectly fine. "No, I'm all good. What's up? Something going around?" I responded. "Oh nothing, just curious. Need me to breed you again tonight?" Tim wrote back. My hole twitched as I read the message. I tried to sound nonchalant, "Haha, sure that could be fun if you're available." "I'm definitely available for your ass, boy. I knew you'd be back for more, but I'm sure Jake didn't want to share after our falling-out." Yeah... he had seen right through me. He sent me his address and we set up a time to meet in about an hour. As I drove to his place, my heart started racing - a combination of nerves and anticipation. The last time had been a life-changing experience already and I had no idea what all Tim had planned for us. What I did know was that I was happy to find someone to cum in me since Jake was gone and given that Tim had already filled me once, I started to rationalize that it was probably a little safer than with other guys. I started to calm down a bit and by the time I pulled into his driveway, I felt ready for a fun evening.

Chapter 5: The Aftermath He was true to his word. The remaining $40,000 hit my account the next morning. I sat in my bed, staring at the number on the screen, the digital proof of my debt’s demise. I should have felt elated. Victorious. I felt nothing. A hollow, numb emptiness, a void where my relief should have been. My body ached in places I’d forgotten I had. The smell of latex and poppers and him—a mix of expensive cologne and something uniquely, intimately male—seemed to be baked into my skin, a phantom scent I couldn’t escape. I showered for an hour, scrubbing until my skin was raw and pink, but I couldn’t wash away the feeling of him inside me, or the memory of his final, triumphant thrust. The rationalization began almost immediately. It was a transaction. A business deal. I’d provided a service, he’d provided payment. It was over. I could move on with my life, debt-free. But it wasn’t over. A part of him was literally inside me, working its way into my bloodstream, rewriting my biological code. I was a walking, talking incubator for his consequence. The dread announced itself not in a single blow, but in a creeping, insidious wave of symptoms that my anxiety weaponized against me. On the second day, a headache bloomed behind my eyes, a dull, persistent throb I attributed to stress and lack of sleep. But by the afternoon, it had escalated into a full-blown migraine, complete with a sensitivity to light so severe I had to draw all the blinds and lie in the twilight of my bedroom. Every pulse of pain felt like a countdown, a biological alarm bell. Then came the fatigue. It wasn't just tiredness; it was a leaden weight in my bones, a gravitational pull that kept me pinned to my bed. The thought of putting on my work clothes, of smiling at customers, of performing the mundane rituals of my old life was an impossible feat. I called in sick, my voice a raspy lie on the phone. "A flu, maybe. I'll be out a few days." The third day brought a new horror: a low-grade fever that came in waves. One moment I would be shivering under a mountain of blankets, my teeth chattering uncontrollably. The next, I’d be kicking them off, my skin slick with a clammy sweat that felt tainted, unclean. I’d stare at myself in the bathroom mirror, my face pale and beaded with perspiration, and see a patient zero. My throat began to feel scratchy, and every time I swallowed, a fresh jolt of panic would course through me. Is this it? Is this the seroconversion? I spent hours scouring medical websites on my phone, my trembling fingers typing symptoms, each vague match feeling like a confirmed death sentence. I avoided everyone. My phone buzzed with concerned texts from friends and a call from my mother. I let them all go to voicemail. I couldn't form a coherent sentence, couldn't fabricate a lie convincing enough to explain the sheer terror in my eyes. I was terrified I had a new sign on my forehead, an invisible biohazard symbol that everyone could see. I started compulsively checking my skin for a rash, convinced a tell-tale bloom of red would appear any moment, the physical manifestation of my shame. On this the third day, the silence was broken by a buzz that cut through the fever-haze. It was him. A week. Get tested. Send me the results!! Understand boy?!? The message was cold, a clinical quality control check. I was just a project to him, a fetish fulfilled. The numbness was suddenly replaced by a hot, sharp anger. He’d used me, degraded me, and now he wanted a lab report? I didn’t reply. Another message, an hour later. I’m not asking!! The anger curdled into something else. A dark curiosity. A twisted connection had been forged in that sterile room. He had seen a part of me no one else ever had—the desperate, willing, hungry part. He had created it. I found myself opening the browser on my phone. I didn’t go to my bank’s website. I went back to the site where it all began. I logged into my account. My old ad was still there, but now there was a new message in my inbox. The subject line made my blood run cold and my cock twitch with a traitorous interest. Re: Your Conversion - The Next Fantasy My finger hovered over the delete button. I should block him. I should take the money and run. I should never think about this again. Instead, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs, I opened it. Boy, it began. The video came out even better than I hoped. You were perfect. The money was just for the status. What I’m proposing next… is for the experience. To see how far you’re willing to go. The price is higher. The fantasy is darker. You’re already mine in one way. Let me show you another.Think about it. - M I dropped the phone like it had burned me. I stared at it, lying on my cheap apartment carpet. This was the off-ramp. This was the moment to get out. I thought about the debt, now gone. I thought about the mind-numbing grind of my job, the years of financial anxiety that had just vanished in one night. But mostly, I thought about the feeling of the blindfold. The sound of his voice. The terrifying, exhilarating loss of control. The pure, animal high of being used for a singular, powerful purpose. I had sold my status to escape a cage. But the freedom I found on the other side was a different kind of prison, one with a master who knew my deepest, most shameful desires. And as I slowly, slowly reached down to pick up my phone, I knew with a dreadful, thrilling certainty that I was going to write him back. The week that followed was a slow-motion nightmare. The acute symptoms—the fever, the headache—subsided, leaving behind a profound exhaustion and a hyper-vigilance that turned my own body into a enemy. Every twinge in my muscles, every minor ache in my joints, was scrutinized and catastrophized. I became a prisoner in my own apartment, the four walls closing in on me with each passing hour. Time lost all meaning, measured only in the slow crawl toward the seventh day, the day I could get tested. The morning of the test was the quietest of my life. The clinic was sterile and hushed. The phlebotomist’s cheerful small talk sounded like it was coming from the end of a long tunnel. The vial of blood she filled looked dark, like a sin made visible. The next 48 hours were an agony of waiting. I jumped every time my phone buzzed, my stomach lurching. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I just paced, or sat perfectly still, trapped in the purgatory of not-knowing. The results came via a secure email link on a Tuesday afternoon. The sun was shining outside my window, a cruel mockery of the moment. My hands were shaking so violently I could barely type my password. The page loaded, slow and deliberate. There it was. My name. My date of birth. The test date. And next to HIV-1 Antibody Screen, the word REACTIVE. The world didn’t end. There was no scream. There was only a silence so complete it felt like a physical force, sucking all the air from the room. The word “Reactive” pulsed on the screen, a black hole absorbing all light, all hope, all future. A coldness seeped from my core out to my extremities, a glacial calm that was more terrifying than any panic. Positive. He was inside me. Not just his memory, not just his money. His virus. His mark was permanent. I was converted. I was his. My phone buzzed on the table beside me, vibrating against the wood. A new message. I already knew who it was. I looked from the screen with its life-shattering word to the phone with its insistent buzz. Slowly, mechanically, I picked up the phone. The results. It wasn’t a question. He knew. He knew the moment the lab did. I didn't type a reply. I didn't send the PDF the clinic provided. Instead, I simply took a screenshot of the results page, the word REACTIVE glaringly clear in the center of the image. My hand was steady now, unnervingly calm. I attached the image and hit send. The response was immediate - “Good boy. Now you’re ready. The next fantasy awaits.”

Dan stood in the bathroom, toothbrush in hand, his reflection in the mirror showing a mix of determination and nervousness. He took a deep breath, the cool tiles beneath his feet grounding him as he began the meticulous task of scrubbing the lining of his ass, following Jason’s instructions to the letter. Each stroke of the toothbrush was deliberate, the bristles scraping against his insides, a ritualistic preparation for what was to come. The bathroom smelled of mint and disinfectant, a stark contrast to the heady scent of poppers that would soon cloud his senses. He finished scrubbing, and snapped a picture of the toothbrush with his phone, the bristles glistening pink under the harsh bathroom light. With a tap of his thumb, he sent the photo to Jason as he had been instructed, a silent confirmation of his readiness. The anticipation hung heavy in the air, a tangible weight pressing against his chest. “You sure about this right, Dan?” Jason’s text arrived, a mix of challenge and encouragement. “Yeah,” Dan typed, despite the flutter in his chest. “I’m sure.” In truth, he was sure. He appraised himself with a certain sense of detachment. Since the last encounter with Jimmy some switch had flipped in his brain. Whether he should or not, he was going to get pozzed. There was no longer any question about it. Once that happened, anticipation had overtaken fear or shame as his primary motivator. Six weeks had gone by and it was now unlikely he was protected by his own previous PrEP or by Jason and Jimmy's meds. He was going to go over and take their toxic cum. It was as if he no longer had any choice in the matter. A little while later, Dan arrived in the apartment, the key to the locked box clutched in his hand. Jason and Jimmy were lounging on the couch, their eyes immediately locking onto him, their expressions a mix of wonder and worry. The box sat on the kitchen counter, its contents—Dan's PrEP, their meds—a reminder of how they had gotten to this point. With a smirk, he unlocked the box, tossed his own PrEP in the garbage, slammed it shut and locked it again. “I’ll never need those again,” he declared, his voice firm. “You’ll only get your meds back when I test poz.” Jason raised an eyebrow, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Bold move, Dan. You sure you’re ready for what comes next?” “I’ve never been more sure,” Dan replied, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement. Jimmy leaned forward, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “Then let’s make it official. Get the camera ready, Jason. We’re gonna document this transformation.” Jason nodded, grabbing the camera and setting it up on a tripod, the red recording light blinking like a malevolent eye. Dan stood in the center of the room, his body tense but willing. "Take your clothes off for us Dan," Jason said. Dan did as he was instructed as Jason and Jimmy took off what little they had been wearing and started stroking their cocks. Dan was rock hard. "Sit back on the sofa, raise your legs and show us your hole," Jimmy instructed. Dan did as he was told. He spread his cheeks, exposing his hole to the camera, the act both humiliating and exhilarating. "Tell us what you want that hole to become," Jason said. “I want this to be a poz pussy,” Dan proclaimed, his voice loud and clear. "Tell us what you're going to turn into," Jimmy uttered. Dan smirked and said, “I’m gonna be a poz slut.” The words hung in the air, a declaration of his new identity. Jason and Jimmy exchanged a glance, their smirks widening as they moved closer, their presence enveloping him like a warm, suffocating blanket. “On your knees, Dan,” Jimmy commanded, his voice rough with intent. Dan obeyed without hesitation, changing his position on the couch his eyes fixed on Jimmy’s crotch. He reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as he stroked Jimmy's shaft, revealing his thick, uncut cockhead. Dan’s mouth watered as he leaned in, his tongue flicking over Jimmy’s balls, savoring the salty taste of his skin. "Thank Jimmy for making toxic cum in those balls Dan," Jason muttered. “Thank you,” Dan whispered, his breath hot against Jimmy’s groin. “Thank you for going toxic. Thank you for making me toxic.” Jimmy’s hand tangled in Dan’s hair, guiding his mouth to his cock. Dan sucked eagerly, his lips wrapping tightly around the shaft, his tongue swirling around the sensitive head. Jason stood behind him, his presence a silent reminder of the role he would soon play. “Switch,” Jason ordered, his voice cutting through the haze of desire. Dan turned his attention to Jason, his mouth working just as fervently, his hands gripping Jason’s hips as he worshipped his balls and cock. The room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and wet sucking, the air thick with anticipation. Jimmy’s fingers traced down Dan’s back, lingering at his hole before pushing inside, his nails scratching the sensitive flesh raw. Dan gasped, the pain mingling with pleasure as Jason fed him poppers. As the poppers took effect, Dan's mind became a euphoric fog. Jason dropped the poppers next to Dan's hand. "You will probably need a lot of these," Jason said, "we're going to fuck you hard to make sure your ass lining is ready to accept our virus." Dan nodded. “Ready for us, Dan?” Jason asked, his voice low and dangerous. “Yes,” Dan moaned, his body aching with need. “Fuck me. Poz me. Make me toxic.” Jason and Jimmy didn’t hesitate. They took turns, their cocks thrusting into Dan’s hole with relentless force, their voices rough with intent. “We’re pozzing you, Dan,” Jimmy growled, his hips snapping forward. “You’re gonna be our poz slut.” “Yes,” Dan whimpered, his body trembling with each thrust. “More. Please, more.” At a certain point, Dan was riding Jimmy's cock cowboy style, Jimmy thrusting up as he pulled Dan's hips roughly down to meet his. As Jimmy pounded into him, Jason lined up behind, his cock pressing against Dan’s entrance. Dan’s eyes widened as he felt the stretch, his body welcoming the invasion. He had never been double penetrated before. He took a huge hit of poppers as he felt his ass stretching beyond what it had ever done. As the poppers washed over him, he found himself delighting in the pleasure of being fucked by two cocks at the same time despite the pain. It was fantastic. “Cum in me,” Dan whispered, his voice desperate. “Make me toxic. Fill me with your seed.” The camera captured every moment, the red light blinking like a heartbeat. Jimmy’s grip tightened on Dan’s hip, his thrusts becoming more urgent, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Jason's eyes locked onto Jimmy’s, his own breath hitching as he anticipated the moment that would change everything. Jimmy’s face contorted, his body tensing as he teetered on the edge. Dan’s heart raced, his body aching with anticipation, the tension in the room palpable. "Take my toxic cum slut," Jimmy howled, thrusting deep inside. The throbbing of Jimmy's cock triggered Jason's orgasm as well. The two tops slowly caught their breath. Jason withdrew his cock from Dan's ass and went to find an ass plug. When he returned, he slowly guided Dan off Jimmy's dick, scooped up all the cum that had fallen out back into Dan's hole and used his fingernails to rough Dan's insides up a little more. Then he slid in the plug. Dan cleaned Jimmy's and Jason's cocks in turn, noticing the metallic tang mixed with cum and ass juice, assuming this was his blood. "Have you guys ever not succeeded in pozzing someone after this stage?" he asked. "No," Jason smiled, "we've been 100% successful. Sometimes it takes a month or two, but we'll get you there Dan, we'll get you there." The three of them made out for a while as Jason and Jimmy ran their hands over Dan's body. Dan felt strangely at peace with himself, waiting for what was to come.

Long time reader, first time contributor. Hope you enjoy, this is a mostly true story. ____________________________________________________________________ I was 22 years old before I understood that I was gay. I put that fully on my repressed religious upbringing where even mentioning "sex" was [banned word] in my house. But once I discovered what those odd feelings in my gut meant when I saw a large bulge, or a strong, masculine man, it was not long before I was spending a lot of time searching for encounters with men that would bring me the kind of satisfaction I had been craving. At first, I wasn't very picky at all, and my desperation for sex overshadowed any other thoughts I had about the guys I met. And I will admit that my naivete was probably a turn-on for some of the older men who were all too happy to take advantage of me. It was very obvious after one or two meet-ups that I was a bottom, and knowing just enough about gay history, I knew that condoms were important and that I should never hook up without them. I was still on my parents' insurance so there was no way I could get prep without them knowing, and since I wasn't "out" to them yet, condom sex was really the only option I could think of. The next year, I was almost finished with college, but my studies weren't going especially well, at least in part because of all the time I spent looking for sex. I eventually found a couple of regulars but even still, I was almost constantly searching for more. We always used condoms. One night, I had a few drinks in my dorm room which made me horny so I messaged one of the guys, Jake, to see what he was up to. After a few minutes, he responded that he was already going to meet up with someone that night. I figured that meant no time for me and started looking for some porn to jack off too when another message came through. "He says it'd be hot if you came over too. What do you think?" I had never been with more than one guy before and was a little nervous about it, but I said that would be fun if he could pick me up on the way since I had been drinking. A short while later, I got the message to head outside and get in the car. The drive was quiet, my nerves were getting the better of me, but I was committed at that point since I couldn't make my own way back to the dorms. The house we pulled up to was out of the way, tucked in a quiet corner of a rural neighborhood. After we parked, Jake sent a quick message on his phone and we headed up to the door which opened just before we got there. The man standing in the doorway was older, probably in his 50s, but in decent shape. His head was shaved and he had a short beard, but what really caught my attention was the fact that he wasn't wearing any pants. He had answered the door in a pair of black briefs that did nothing to hide the large bulge in his pants. I couldn't take my eyes off it, and he chuckled, "Guess you like what you see? Come in already." Jake and I walked inside and the man introduced himself as Tim and offered us each a drink. Still nervous, and now embarrassed that he had caught me staring, I took him up on his offer and he poured me a stiff whiskey coke which I downed pretty quickly. There was some of the typical smalltalk while Tim waited for me to calm down a bit, and every once in a while, he would give Jake a look, some sort of exchange happening without words. Pretty soon, Jake came over to me and started pulling on my shirt. Loosened up by the drink, I started to get into it and was happy when he started to kiss me passionately. Kissing always gets me going like nothing else and it wasn't long before both of us were naked, exploring each others bodies with our hands. Tim sat down close to us, stroking himself lightly and every once in a while he'd say something like "yeah, that's hot" or even just slight moans. Jake pushed me down on the couch and guided my mouth to his dick which had grown to its full 7 inches. I don't have great oral skills, but I always try my best. Jake held onto my head and tried to fuck my mouth, making me gag at the intrusion but he was getting nice and wet from my spit. I could taste the light saltiness of his precum on my tongue and eagerly slurped it down, swallowing what was there. I knew there wasn't much risk of anything just from sucking him. After a few more minutes of that, he told me to lay down and positioned himself between my legs. He grabbed a condom from his pants, rolled it onto his dick, and lined himself up with my hole. Tim stood up and walked over to me. The bulge I had seen earlier was nothing compared to what I was seeing now. That thing had to be over 9 inches, way more than I had ever had before. He reached under my head with a pillow to help me keep it up more and then guided my mouth to his cock. Jake and Tim both started to push into me at the same time and soon I was opening up on both ends. I had never felt anything like that before and I found myself so turned on that I started moaning, clearly enjoying the treatment. "Yeah, just like that. You like taking both of us? Fuck him Jake," Tim said. I could see Jake grinning and he pushed all the way in, bottoming out inside my ass and giving me that full feeling I loved. He started to move in and out of me, increasing speed until he found a good rhythm. I kept sucking Tim, trying to get more and more of him into my mouth and massaging his balls. Whenever I drink, I turn into the guy who gets worried whether everyone in the room is having a good time, and I wanted to make sure that he was enjoying it as much as I was so I sucked him with enthusiasm. We kept this up for a few minutes when suddenly Jake stopped, and pulled out abruptly. "Crap, the condom broke." He pulled the condom off and held it up, it had clearly split at the end. As he did this, the tip of his raw dick dropped and ended up pressed lightly against my hole, but he didn't make a move to push it in. It felt... so good! As he moved, it rubbed against my opening, slick with lube and spit. I started to feel even more turned on than before but wasn't sure what to do next. "Do you have another?" I asked tentatively. "You guys have fucked before, right?" Tim asked. "I don't have any condoms in the house, do you really want to stop?" Jake let out an involuntary whimper, just enough for me to hear, and pushed just a little towards me. In my drunken state, I was finding it hard to concentrate through the sensations of his dick against my hole and let out a moan despite myself. "We don't have to keep going..." Jake offered, but it was clear that's not what he wanted. All this time, he was still rubbing against my hole, which was driving me into a frenzy, and the scent of Tim's cock still right in front of my face wasn't helping. "Uh... it's fine. Don't stop." I gave in. Jake looked up at Tim with a big grin and immediately pushed all the way inside me. I couldn't believe how easy it was to take him all the way. I opened up like never before. And the feeling... it was a whole new experience. I had never considered that it might feel different without a condom but this was amazing. I gasped in ecstasy and my hole involuntarily clenched around him. "Oh my god, that feels so good man! Your hole is so much better like this." Jake started fucking me harder, getting closer and closer to cumming. Tim pushed back into my mouth and I was overcome by all the sensations. I think I kind of blacked out for a bit, not sure if it was the booze, the sex, or some combination of both, but I lost all track of time. Suddenly, Jake started to tense up and he sped up his rhythm. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!" He said, still pounding away at my hole. "Do it, fuck his ass!" Tim encouraged him. Next thing I knew, Jake groaned loudly and pushed all the way in, holding tight to my hips and shaking. I could feel his cock twitching inside me and knew that he was cumming. All at once, it was like something broke inside me, and I knew that I would be chasing that feeling for the rest of my life. It was so much better than any sex I had had up to that point, and I loved the feeling of him leaking inside me. "You did great, boy." Tim patted me on the head as he started to move around to Jake. He grabbed Jakes shoulders and slowly pulled him back, his cock slipping out of me with a slight pop. "My turn." I started to get up. I didn't know anything about Tim and I wasn't sure that I wanted him to be inside me bareback, but Jake gently pushed me back down and said "It's ok, you're going to love it." Tim lined up against my hole and started to push. I clenched against the intrusion, worried about the risk with a complete stranger, but my hole was weak from Jake's fucking and it slowly started opening up despite my best efforts. "That's it, open up for me. Just let me in, it'll be so good." Tim's persistence started to pay off and the tip of his dick passed through my first sphincter. I tried again to pull away but he and Jake were holding onto me and I couldn't move enough to get him out of me. I tried pushing him out with my ass, but when I did Tim leaned forward and another couple inches of him slid into me. "Nice, that feels amazing. Keep pushing like that!" I started to feel dizzy and between that and the amazing sensation in my ass, I couldn't help but moan and my head fell back onto the pillow. "Yeah, that's good. Just relax, you can take it all," Tim sighed as he continued pushing his length into me. I could feel myself opening up and between the lube, spit, and Jake's cum still inside me, it wasn't long before Tim was as far as he could go. Or so I thought... "Hold on boy, there's still more," he almost whispered and he shifted his hips against me. I could feel the pressure building inside of me and thought I was going to be split in two, when suddenly something inside me moved and the pressure released. I yelped at the new sensation and Tim said "Fuck! That's it, I'm past the curve now." Jake cheered him on, rubbing my head and trying to reassure me. "Boy, that ass feels so good and I'm so deep, not gonna last long. Jake, you lubed him up good for me," Tim said and started rocking his hips against me, sliding easily in and out of my slick ass. My brain felt like it was short-circuiting, like I couldn't form full thoughts against the feelings deep inside me. And as much as I didn't want to admit it, I loved the way it felt. Tim was bigger than anyone I had ever had, and the full feeling I got with him all the way inside me was intoxicating. "Mmph, nice and broken in now! Feel how wet that is? You've got a lot of my precum in you already, and I'm gonna put this load so deep in you, it's never coming out! After this, you'll never want to use a condom again," Tim tried to take his time, pausing frequently to try and hold off his orgasm, but all the talk along with the feeling in my ass was clearly getting him worked up. Pretty soon, he stopped talking and his breathing got heavy. "Oh fuck... here it comes!" Tim grabbed my throat, looked deep into my eyes, and with one final thrust, he pushed all the way in again and I could feel that pulse of his muscles contracting, shooting his cum deep inside me. He collapsed down onto my chest and I realized I had cum at some point during the fucking. I had been so carried away I didn't even notice. I was completely overwhelmed after taking two loads inside me, but I knew that Tim was right and I would probably never use a condom again. Still inside me, Tim leaned forward and forced his tongue into my mouth, kissing me fiercely. I couldn't help but get into it and soon I was kissing him back just as passionately. After a few minutes, he had softened enough that he slipped out of me, but before he stood up, he leaned in and whispered just to me, "Jake should be thanking you, you saved him tonight. I just pumped a massive 7-day toxic load deep inside you, knocked you up good boy. Your ass is mine forever." The End

For a long time, I simply denied my sexual urges toward other men. I married a beautiful woman named Beth and we had a decent sex life, though it rapidly reduced to occasional intercourse. As I realized the biological male role didn’t arouse me, I began to imagine during sex that I was the woman sucking cock or being penetrated. This was much more of a turn on. Of course, I never told my wife. From there it was just a short step into fantasizing about other men and jerking off to gay porn. I always pretended I was the bottom – I just had no interest in topping another guy. I might have continued to limit my gay urges to fevered masturbation episodes if it hadn’t been for our new neighbor, Kyle. He moved into the house next door a few months ago. Kyle was gay and made no secret about it, wearing a rainbow pride necklace. On weekends, he would sometimes host fairly raucous parties with as many as a dozen male guests. It didn’t take much to guess what was going on. My fantasies expanded to participating in gay orgies at Kyle’s house. I also found Kyle himself to be incredibly attractive. He was a few years older than me (I just turned 30). He was tall and handsome, his body sculpted by long hours in the gym, with close-cropped beard and hair and clear blue eyes. I’m 5’8” and 150 pounds, so he was physically much bigger and more muscular – exactly the kind of male I fantasized about. When he was outside, working shirtless in his garden, sweat glistening on his torso, I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. He made me nervous in the same way I had been around pretty girls in high school and college, including Beth at first. If he was in his garden, I would find excuses to do my own yard work. I imagined what it would be like to lick his skin with his salty perspiration and then proceed to run my tongue along his cock, before he fucked my virgin ass. Although he was very friendly, I found it hard to talk to him very much. I guess I didn’t trust my ability to control myself without saying something that would give away my lust for him. I was sure he noticed my attention (no doubt he recognized male desire and had been the object of a lot of it) and found it amusing. Beth noticed it, too. One day, after she, Kyle, and I had been talking together at the edge of our yard, she said to me, “Andy, I think you have a crush on Kyle. You keep staring at his body and you get all tensed up when he’s around.” I tried to laugh it off. “Oh, baby, that’s just silly,” I replied. She stared at me. “I know what you’re like when you’re attracted to someone, sweetie. Remember, that’s how you were when we first met.” I didn’t have a good answer. I couldn’t admit she was right, even to myself. Beth just wouldn’t let it go. In the weeks that followed, if she saw Kyle in his garden, she would tease me. “Honey, your boyfriend is outside.” Our sex life ceased entirely. She would rebuff my advances, once going so far as to suggest maybe Kyle would be interested. Finally, she said, “If you don’t do something about your man crush on Kyle, I will.” “Oh, god, you’re not going to tell him, are you?” I realized that I had stopped denying my infatuation. “Sweetie, I don’t have to tell him. Believe me, he already knows.” I blushed beet red. “How?” “It’s obvious, Andy, from the way you look at him, the way you act when he’s around. You’re flustered when he speaks to you. Your tongue is practically hanging out.” “So, what are you going to do?” She smiled and winked at me, but refused to say more. Later that afternoon, I looked out the window and saw Beth and Kyle deep in conversation, looking occasionally at our house. They were both smiling and seemed happy. When I asked her later what they’d been talking about, she gave me an evasive answer. The following Saturday afternoon, my wife announced she had a special work assignment and would be gone until the evening. It was unusual but I gave it little thought. When she left, I went outside to trim the hedges next to Kyle’s garden, hoping to watch him without him being aware. Instead, he saw me immediately and came into our yard to chat. I thought he was flirting with me and I started to reciprocate. Filled with mounting desire, I realized I had to act. “Would you like to come in for a cold one?” I blurted out. Kyle gave me a big smile. “Sounds perfect.” His eyes held mine for a long time. I turned and walked back up the path into our house. He followed. I could feel his eyes on my butt, and I wiggled it as I walked. Once inside, I grabbed a couple of beers, handed him one, and sat on the living room couch. He stood over me, his crotch level with my eyes, I stared at it and watched a bulge form as his cock hardened. I realized he wasn’t wearing any underwear. I was thrilled at the thought that he was getting aroused. I felt myself getting hard. I looked up into his eyes and said, “Why don’t you have a seat?” “Good idea,” he answered. Then, even though it’s a long couch and there were a couple of other comfy chairs, he planted himself so close beside me that our arms, hips, and thighs touched. I could smell his sweat. My head was swimming that I was in such close contact as this beautiful Adonis. Then a looked at his short-shorts and saw the smooth head of his dick emerge out from the leg opening as he got even harder. “Holy fuck!” I thought to myself, completely entranced at the sight. Kyle was in complete control and he knew it. He set his beer down on the coffee table, then took mine and put it down. He began to stroke the inside of my thigh. I felt a fire of desire rise within me. He gazed into my eyes. “Andy, let me make this easy on you. I know you’re attracted to me. I think you’re hot, too. I think it’s time we acted on our feelings.” Then he leaned toward me, wrapped one arm around my shoulders, and held my chin with his other hand. His lips met mine in a soft, gentle kiss. I sighed deeply. His kiss became more passionate, his tongue invading my mouth. My hands found his torso and ran along his well-defined muscles. I loved the sensation as his stubble and my short beard rubbed against each other – this wasn’t at all like kissing my wife or any woman. I thought, This is what it feels like to kiss a man, and I love it! Kyle paused our kisses and said, “I could use a shower.” I knew he meant both of us. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text. “Just cancelled an appointment I had. I’m free for the whole afternoon.” We walked upstairs and into the primary bathroom, which had a large shower. Beth and I liked to shower together, though that had ended when Kyle came into our life and she had refused to have sex with me. I quickly stripped and faced Kyle. He tossed away his shoes and socks and pulled down his shorts. Now I could see his entire cock. It looked huge to my inexperienced eyes. I had a moment of doubt – how could I ever get all of that meat into my mouth or my tight ass? Kyle turned on the shower. While we waited for the water to get warm, he embraced me. His tongue found mine and his hands roamed over my back and butt, his index finger probing my sensitive hole. I pulled back from his kiss and ran my tongue down his neck, tasting that delicious, sweat-coated skin I had so often fantasized about. Then I licked and bit his nipples, which stiffened under my attention. “Oh, that feels good,” he said, holding my head in place as a sign to continue. My tongue found its way down to his chiseled abs before he stopped me by saying, “More of this after we clean up.” It was unlike any shower I had taken before. We kissed and we played with each other’s cocks. Then he soaped my ass and inserted two fingers deep inside me. I felt a new warmth in my ass. “This is soon to be a cunt, Andy. Are you ready?” “Oh, yes,” I gasped. “I’ve been wanted this for a long time.” He laughed. “I know. I can tell when a guy wants to fuck. You showed all the signs.” “Funny, but that’s what Beth said.” “Well, women can often tell when a guy is gay. A sixth sense.” “Even when they’re married to one?” I asked. “Especially when they’re married to one.” We finished and toweled each other until we were both dry. I led Kyle by the hand into the bedroom I shared with my wife. We pulled back the blanket and top sheet. Then Kyle sat on the edge of the bed and pointed to the floor. I kneeled in front of him. His hard cock was just a couple of inches from my face. I stroked it firmly and it seemed to swell even more. Kyle moaned. Then I leaned forward and began to lick the smooth, mushroom-shaped head. I was rewarded with a little taste of salty precum. So delicious! I opened my mouth and began to take him in, just a little more with each suck. He rested his hands on my head and said, “Take your time, Andy. I know you’ve been wanting this. We should both enjoy it.” And we did. I loved running my tongue along the shaft, feeling the raised veins, and then licking his heavy balls. I knew what they held. I wanted his seed. No, I needed it, deep inside me. I couldn’t take his full length without gagging and he didn’t try to force me. I could feel his tension rising and I wanted him to cum in my mouth. But I also suspected he had other ideas. I soon learned I was correct. Kyle pulled back and said, “I need to fuck you.” It was both a statement of fact and a command. He stood up. I understood what was expected. I lay down on the bed, my head on a pillow. Kyle joined me on his knees. He took another pillow and slid it under my butt. He lifted my legs toward my chest and I gripped them to give him a clear view of my tight, clenched hole. Then I felt his stubble between my butt cheeks. Warm breath, then an even warmer and very wet tongue, around my hole. I felt myself relaxing into a delicious trance, everything focused on one very sensitive spot on my body. His tongue found its way inside me. Little bolts of erotic energy radiated from my ass, reaching all the way to my toes. “I think you’re ready to be fucked,” Kyle announced. “I prefer bareback, but that’s your call. The last time I tested I was negative, but that was a while back. I’ve hosted some parties since then. I don’t use PrEP.” In all my fantasies about him, I took him raw. I wasn’t about to let anything come between us now. “No condom,” I replied. “That’s good, because I don’t have any rubbers with me.” Kyle applied some lube to his dick and worked some into my hole. Then he placed the tip against my hole. “Your ass is about to become a cunt, Andy. Do you like the way that sounds? A cunt.” “Yes, baby. That sounds really hot. Turn my ass into a cunt.” I felt a burning sensation. At first, I didn’t think he would fit, but his steady pressure and my determination to relax and let him enter me did the trick. (The lube helped, too.) I felt my sphincter ease and then he was inside me. “God, you’re so big!” I murmured. “Honey, that’s just the head,” Kyle replied, smiling. “There’s a lot more.” “I want it all.” Slowly Kyle went deeper. The fullness was exquisite. My entire body quivered with the deepest pleasure I had ever experienced. For a moment I thought of Beth and how this was how she must have felt when I was inside her. But that thought vanished as I was lost in my own pleasure. After a few minutes – time no longer had any meaning – I felt Kyle’s pubic hair brush up against my ass cheeks. He lay forward atop me, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him, thrilled by his muscular body as I ran my hands along his back and arms. He kissed me deeply and explored my mouth with his tongue. When he paused, I smiled and said, “You’re so deep inside me, Kyle. It feels like your cock is going to come all the way out of my throat.” He liked hearing I thought he had a big cock, even though he knew his was my first. He raised himself up and I slid my legs into the crook of his elbows. Now he began to move in and out, each thrust sending a charge through my entire body. “Pump your cock to match my rhythm,” he grunted. I did as he said, even though I just wanted to focus on the pleasure in my ass. My cock got very hard as I stroked it. I felt something building inside me. Kyle was grunting; I was whimpering, “Fuck me, baby, fuck me.” My load exploded, spurts of my sticky, slick cum flying across my abdomen. The spasming in my ass gripped Kyle’s cock in tight pulses, and he erupted a few seconds later in deep rapid thrusts. I felt a strange wetness inside me. Kyle had seeded me. I loved the sensation. After a few minutes, he softened inside me and then slipped out. We turned on our sides, him behind me with his strong arm wrapped possessively around me, and drifted off to sleep. My dreams were sensual, about Kyle and other men, all of us together and all of them fucking me. As I started to awaken, I became aware that someone else had entered the room. Then I heard Beth’s soft voice. “Well, well, what do we have here? Looks like two gay men in my bed. Looks like they’ve been fucking in my bed.” Kyle sat up. “Hi, Beth. You were right. Andy is into guys.” It dawned on me that they had planned this encounter. “You texted her before, right?” I said to Kyle. “Yup,” he answered, kissing my neck. “Hope you’re not angry with me, honey.” I turned and gave him a deep tongue kiss. “Not at all, baby.” “Well, I’m angry, Andy” Beth said, smiling. She didn’t seem angry at all. “First, you lied about not having a crush on Kyle. Second, you cheated on me, and with a man no less. And third, you’re obviously a faggot, and you kept denying who you really are. Kyle, I think Andy needs to be punished.” “OK,” he answered. “On your hands and knees, Andy, facing Beth.” I did as I was told. Kyle moved behind me, eased my legs apart, pumped his cock a few times, and thrust it inside of me. He wasn’t gentle this time. I grunted as he penetrated me. I took a deep breath. It hit me that I was being fucked by another man while me wife stood in front of me, watching. I couldn’t believe how aroused I was by the scene. SMACK! Kyle’s hand came down hard on my right butt cheek. “Ouch!” I cried; Beth’s eyes widened. SMACK! “Thank you, Kyle,” I said. Several more slaps followed, until my ass cheeks felt very warm. With each blow I saw Beth’s eyes blink. I rested on my elbows. She kneeled in front of me and gripped my hands. “You shouldn’t have lied to me,” she said. “I know,” I answered. Several more loud smacks followed. Then Kyle stopped and lay on my back. I let go of Beth’s hands, and Kyle gripped mine. He developed a nice in-and-out motion. I turned my head to kiss him. “Fuck me, Kyle,” I urged. “Fuck me hard and cum inside me again.” I was soon rewarded by another powerful orgasm. I looked up at Beth. She had a strange, knowing expression on her face. Then she turned and walked out of the room. An hour later, Kyle and I dressed and went downstairs. Beth was in the kitchen, cooking dinner, as though nothing had happened. It seemed surreal. Kyle walked over to her, gave her a hug, and said I was welcome to stay at his house for a while until we had sorted things out. Over dinner Beth and I decided I should accept his offer. What he didn’t say was the offer included my first sex party with other men, the next weekend. Eight guys, all well-built. Kyle had told them about me. It was all bareback sex, and by the end of day two every one of them had fucked me at least once. Several had biohazard tattoos, so there wasn’t much doubt about their status. Kyle decided we should live together. Beth and I began to transform our relationship, from husband-and-wife to single-woman-and-gay-best-friend. She even started to talk about the men she was dating and how they were in bed. A few weeks later, I got really sick. Both Kyle and I got ourselves tested, and we were both positive. I can’t be sure he was the one who pozzed me, but I still like to think of him as my baby daddy. After all, like a good neighbor, he was there.

In July or early August I went to The Fuck Stop in Manhattan. The organizers advise people to come early for these events because many of the tops unload once and leave. I definitely didn't get there as early as possible but I wasn't late either. The space The Fuck Stop is in has been used off and on, maybe nearly continuously, for gay male fuck events since at least the mid-90's (either this space or a very nearby space). I went on a Saturday afternoon. About 15 people were there when I got there with 3 of them talking in the lounge area before the play areas, one of whom was getting ready to leave. I had gotten a hotel room in Queens and had opened up with a big dildo (for me) before getting there. I had already lubed too but I lubed up again. Then walked around a little before getting ass up in the second play space with a soft bed at the entrance to the 2nd play space (these play spaces were created using cloth/scrim/large curtain material). I didn't have to wait too long before a guy mounted me, fucked me kind of gently and came in my ass. This of course got me intoxicated for more dick. I applied more lube and resumed my position. After a while, another guy with a larger dick gently worked his way into my hole and began long stroking me. He built up to a ass slapping crescendo after a while before breeding me deeply. I had to hit the poppers several times for that. But then, instead of pulling out, after cumming in my ass, he began pumping again, fucked away and came again. He would do this a total of five times. The fifth time he got softish and had to change up the angle of his dick in my ass to get hard, but get hard he did and came a fifth time. I was both ecstatic but also worn out and had to dismount his dick (very bad behavior I know, but I had to take a break). I turned around an sucked him (and it turned out there were two guys there, so maybe they were going to switch off and I disrupted their plans but I had to stop for a short while). After walking around a bit, it was hard to get attention again but later in the first play space, another guy fucked and bred me on the bed in the first play space. Only 3 dicks for me that afternoon but 7 loads up my ass. I'll be going back.

Same. Literally thousands of anonymous cocks. No fuckin clue who pozzed me. Some troll in an ABS, no doubt.

“Are you scared, boy? You’re all mine now. I’m going to show you what I do to teasing boys who won’t put out for Daddy.” Matt shuddered hearing the words whispered into his ear, knowing it was too late to go back now. His heart raced, and in his brain, he knew he was in trouble. He pulled at the leather restraints that were tightly fastened around his wrists and ankles, but it was all in vain. Daddy just chuckled, telling him to stop fighting it - he was going to be a good whore now whether he liked it or not. He was powerless, just a fly in the spiderweb that Daddy had carefully constructed over months. He was going to be Daddy’s next victim. Matt thought about what had led him to this place where he was about to be sacrificed to a twisted man’s carnal desires, terrified at what might happen and unsure if he’d get out of this alive. Maybe he could get away if he cooperated and gave this domineering daddy a blowjob. Once he started to feel Daddy’s finger slowly dig and scratch into his tight ass, he thrashed around, trying to scream out for help. But no one was there to save him from this twisted situation. It had all started innocently enough. He was new in town, a small-town 35-year-old who was suddenly in a thriving gay community with thousands of men all around him. He was eager to explore the leather scene he had long fantasized about, so Matt spent his nights and weekends socializing and introducing himself to the locals. He started to make friends in a cigar group, and a buddy who worked at the local leather shop took him under his wing to help him choose his first leathers. He bought a harness - all gay men need a simple harness - and loved how the leather and metal felt against his chest and back. A pair of boots made him feel more masculine than ever before. Armbands and a leather jockstrap completed his outfit, making him feel sexy and butch. The local daddies started to notice the boy’s newfound confidence when out at the leather bars. Over time, he had a group of friends he could smoke cigars with and learn more about the old guard days of leather that were happening before he was even born. Matt loved being a part of this community, but he hesitated about one thing: Sex. Everyone in his new city seemed obsessed with breeding, and they were all so open and eager about taking raw cock or shooting their cum into whatever ass they could get. Some guys even proudly boasted about fucking unwilling bottoms who were too messed up to stop what was happening. It scared Michael, and he knew he’d have to be careful if he wanted to stay safe. He had tried dating a couple of guys, but he felt like they only wanted his ass, not his brain or heart. He even went home with a man one night who seemed so nice and friendly, thinking they’d just have a drink and maybe kiss some. Instead, the man immediately went into the bathroom and emerged moments later naked, hard, and talking about getting him high on meth. He laughed as he said he was going to give the boy his nasty cum, a sinister look in his eyes. Matt bolted out the door and avoided that man, feeling like he would never meet someone who would respect his wishes. He decided to focus his time and energy on friends, thinking it was just too risky to get himself into another dangerous situation like that. He had fun, but would go home to jerk off alone. He started to worry he’d never fall in love or have the kind of sex he wanted. If only a kind, safe-sex guy like himself would come along, he’d think. And then, on a seemingly normal Friday night out at the bar with his cigar friends, he saw a new face in the crowd. This man was obviously unwell, ragged from what seemed to be a hard life and some kind of illness. His leathers looked old and worn, no doubt from decades of use. The vest he was wearing made it easy to see just how thin he really was - just a bunch of bones and skin, though for some reason he had a big round gut. His jeans were obscenely tight, and Matt couldn’t help but notice what looked like the outline of a massive cock sticking out. And was that a big wet spot from a leaking cock? Matt’s stomach churned as he saw this mystery man start to walk over to the group. “Hi,” he said, holding out a big hand to shake the regulars’ hands. “I’m Blake. Just moved to town.” The guys took turns welcoming Blake to the city, introducing themselves, and giving him some insider advice on the best places to check out. Matt was polite, but something scared him about this skeletal man who seemed unwell, and he couldn’t quite figure out his fears. When it was turn to shake Blake’s hand, the new guy had a tight grip that seemed to linger longer than he had with the rest of the group, making intense eye contact with Matt the entire time. There was something sinister about that look, but Matt figured he must just be imagining it. The guys enjoyed a few hours of hanging out at the bar, smoking their cigars and putting back drinks like they always did. Blake was generous with the guys, buying several rounds for everyone and even getting a few shots of whiskey for Matt after a friend had mentioned that he’s the whiskey drinker of the group. Matt thought it was odd that Blake wasn’t drinking at all, but didn’t ponder it much. Blake was flirting with him, even mentioning at one point that he loves using pretty little bottom boys like him. Matt tried to laugh it off and politely declined, saying he wasn’t interested. As the night went on, the guys eventually left one by one. Soon, it was just Matt and Blake at the table. Matt was drunk enough at that point to not be as scared by this new guy, but still felt like something was off. He found out Blake was 65 years old, recently widowed, and a longtime part of the leather scene. He moved to town for a fresh start and a chance to find some “young new victims,” he said with a devilish grin. Matt shrugged it off as a bad joke and explained he wasn’t really looking to date right now. Blake left for a minute and came back to the table, three shots of whiskey in his hand, and told Matt to drink up. Matt didn’t want to seem rude, so he accepted these gifts from Blake, downing all three in less than 10 minutes. He was having a hard time even just sitting down, and knew he needed to sleep this off. But Blake retuned with another round of shots, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Eventually, Matt took out his phone to get an Uber, but his drunken clumsiness caused him to lose his grip and drop his phone - and the screen shattered the moment it hit that brick patio. He was miles from home and didn’t know what he was going to do. Blake leaned over, taking Matt’s drunk face in his hands to look him in the eyes and ask if he needed help. Matt tried to decline, but Blake insisted. He wasn’t drunk, and his car was right outside. He’d be happy to drive Matt home. Matt was struggling to stay awake at this point. With no better options, he accepted this offer, telling Blake that he was so generous all night. Blake helped the boy into the passenger seat, asked for his address, and told him to relax and get comfortable for the ride ahead. Matt thought that was an odd way of saying it, but he was so drunk and tired, and he felt like he was melting into the seat. He closed his eyes, expecting to be back home in 15 minutes. When he finally woke back up, he didn’t know where he was, but it wasn’t home or in Blake’s car. He tried to say something but all that came out was a muffled sound. It felt like some kind of rubber ball was stuck in his mouth. When he tried to reach for his mouth, he realized his hands were somehow restrained. So were his ankles. He couldn’t see anything because some kind of heavy leather hood was over his head. He could sense that he wasn’t alone, but all he could hear was his own pounding heart and panicked breath. Then, footsteps slowly got closer and closer, seemingly caused by heavy boots. Matt struggled but couldn’t get out of his predicament. He started to cry, wondering what was happening to him. He didn’t have to wait long for an answer. “Are you scared, boy? You’re all mine now. I’m going to show you what I do to teasing boys who won’t put out for Daddy,” Blake said, letting out an evil laugh as Matt cried out in terror. “You’re my whore now.”

I was pretty twink-y looking for being in my early 30s. I got everything handed to me in life, but I still only wanted one thing: to party with dangerous guys. I had been talking to this somewhat older guy online, and he was poz. Something deep within me stirred, and my dick got harder than ever before. He asked me if I wanted to come over and party with him. Hell yeah! I was never one to turn down a party. I got to his house, and saw he was smoking a pipe. There was a small pile of crystals near him. "Do you really wanna party?" he asked. I had never done meth before, but I was willing to try anything. I smoked some from the pipe, and I immediately got warm and fuzzy. Daddy grinned at me. "Looks like you're enjoying yourself. Wanna have even more fun?" he asked. I nodded enthusiastically. Daddy stripped naked, and I quickly followed suit. His cock was massive, and I immediately wanted to take all of it. I laid back on the couch with my legs in the air. I was so fucking high, I completely forgot about his status. He slowly slid his dick up my ass, and I felt better than I ever had before in my life. "Oh Fuck Yes Daddy, fuck my tight twink boi hole." I moaned. Daddy grinned at me and gave me another meth hit. "You know I'm positive" Daddy warned. My dick instantly betrayed me and got harder than ever before. "Looks like you want it anyways" Daddy teased. He gave me another hit. "Fuck yes Dad, fuck everything, I really want you to poz me!" I said loudly. "Oh yeah, you're nothing but a retarded faggot bugchaser now boi" Daddy said. I nodded. "Fuck me up forever Daddy. Give me your gift. I want my freedom to take all loads. Give me HIV!" I said. "You're going to get my death cum in your butt, and you will die from AIDS" Daddy warned. My dick just got harder. "I don't care! Kill me with your cum Dad!" I yelled. Daddy pounded me hard. "I Love having a junkie faggot son that begs for conversion. I'm going to bring you into the brotherhood." Daddy said. Suddenly Daddy's thrusting changed. "Son, I have a special surprise for you. I need to piss like crazy. I'm going to fucking give you my chem piss in your butt." Daddy warned. "Oh, FUCK YES DAD, PEE IN MY BUTT!!!" I screamed. "I'm fucking peeing, I'm peeing deep inside your butt! I'm filling up your guts with my chem piss!" Daddy exclaimed. I felt the hot liquid filling my ass and tummy, and I Loved it. I felt higher than I ever did before. I was literally getting higher off of Dad's pee in my butt. I was completely braindead except for rhe need to get pozzed. "GIVE ME AIDS!!! I WANT AIDS!!!" I screamed. I was totally tweaking out for death cum. Daddy grinned. "That's my stupid fucking faggot boi, so desperate for Dad's poison cum." Daddy was close. "Here it comes bitch, TAKE MY AIDS LOAD FAGGOT!!!" Daddy yelled. "GIVE ME AIDS!!!" I screamed. Daddy howled with pleasure and I felt his dick spasming deep inside my butt, shooting ropes and ropes of death cum flooding my guts. "I can see the negativity leave your eyes boi. You're mine forever now." Daddy said. "YES SIR!" I responded obediently. In no time, I tested positive. I was the happiest twink ever. The End

Rimming definitely! Bothered ways. And piss a close second.

Oh you’re in for the time of your life just remember everything changes after this

I have been aware of Charlie Kirk since he was 19 or 20. He was a vile and reprehensible person. I despised the man. But I am disgusted with any political violence. I think it is reprehensible. But Charlie often said that murder is a necessary evil in protection of the second amendment. I wonder if he would have been okay with his murder? If Charlie Kirk had been in a second grader, sitting in his classroom when shot, the story barely would’ve made news outside their local area. And the subject would’ve been dropped within 48 hours.

I took at least 3 raw loads last night with a black top I just met. On top of that, he ruthlessly fucked me, so much so to the point where I worship him. Said he was negative, but I doubt it. Also, he said he loves fucking and breeding white ass.

Chapter 4 - The conversion The world vanished into deep, rich black silk. He tied it firmly but not painfully behind my head, the knot pulling just enough to emphasize my helplessness. My other senses exploded into hyper-awareness, each one suddenly a raw nerve ending. I heard his measured footsteps on the concrete, moving around me, the slight scuff of his expensive shoes a deliberate punctuation in the heavy silence. I felt the cool, almost clinical air of the expansive room on my bare skin, a stark contrast to the internal inferno already raging within me. My pulse throbbed in my temples, a frantic drumbeat against the hum of the drugs already coursing through my system. Before he’d blindfolded me, the scene had been a blur of neon and shadow. I’d arrived already buzzing, a few tabs of Molly dissolving that pesky voice of conscience, an initial gulp of G loosening my limbs and my inhibitions. But he had upped the ante. He’d laid out the works: a mirror glinting with crystalline shards of Tina, a small vial of clear liquid, and a sterile pack containing a new syringe. “This is about more than just a fuck,” he’d said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through my bones. “This is about surrender. Total, absolute. You want the payment? You earn the experience.” He’d insisted on the ‘booty bump’. A small, meticulous line of crushed Tina, carefully mixed with a drop of water, drawn into an oral syringe. The clinical precision of it was almost a turn-on in itself. He’d guided my trembling hand, the applicator slick with lube, as I eased it into my own asshole, pressing the plunger. The rush had been immediate, a molten wave of heat blooming deep inside, spreading outwards, sharpening every sensation, every desire. He’d followed suit, a shared intimacy of self-violation that bound us even before our skin touched. The Molly made me crave connection, the G made me careless, and the Tina… the Tina made me an insatiable, reckless animal. Now, blindfolded, his presence was a magnetic force. I smelled the sharp, chemical tang of poppers when he uncapped the bottle nearby, the scent tearing through the residual haze of the other drugs. “Hands on the table,” he commanded, his voice a gravelly rasp that seemed to vibrate in the very air around me, cutting through my heightened senses. I obeyed, my hands flat against the cold, smooth leather of the examination table. The leather itself felt alive, cool and yielding beneath my palms. I heard the soft rustle of his clothes as he undressed, the material whispering against itself, revealing hints of the taut, muscular body I knew was beneath. Then his hands were on me, gloved in latex, slick with cold lube. They were impersonal and efficient, turning me around, guiding my hips to lie back on the table. He spread my legs, lifted them, adjusting me with a practiced ease that made me feel utterly dehumanized, yet thrillingly exposed. His fingers, deft and unyielding, began circling my asshole, dilating and stretching me, pressing deeply, exploring every inch of my opening without asking for permission. The clinical nature of it, the cold, latex-covered invasion, was its own unique kind of depravity, stripping away all pretense of romance or even mutual desire. I was a subject. An experiment. A vessel. My heart was hammering against my ribs, a frantic drum against the backdrop of my roaring drug-addled brain. The Tina had me rigid, my muscles trembling with a barely contained energy, my cock already painfully hard, ready to explode. The G had me loose and pliant, my asshole relaxed even under his relentless assault. The Molly had stripped away my fear, replacing it with a desperate need for all of it. Then I felt the head of his cock, blunt and insistent, at my entrance. It was bigger than I remembered from the hazy night on the couch, from the quick, anonymous touch that had initiated this dark bargain. A thick, veiny column, slicked with my own lube, pressing, prodding. “The poppers,” he said again, his voice a gravelly whisper right by my ear, the sound a physical vibration against my skin. He held the bottle to my nose. “Now.” I inhaled deeply, the ammonia fumes burning my nostrils, then blossoming behind my eyes, a dizzying, head-rushing explosion of pure, mind-numbing sensation. The world tilted, spun, and for a glorious, terrifying second, ceased to exist. In that same instant, as the chemical high erased the last shreds of my resistance, melting me into a puddle of pure, raw sensation, he thrust into me. It was one smooth, brutal motion. He buried himself to the hilt, stretching me to my absolute limit, filling me completely, a hot, heavy mass of flesh. I cried out, a strangled sound that was equal parts pain and overwhelming ecstasy. My body seized around him, accepting, yielding, desperate for more. The poppers hammered everything home, locking me into this moment of exquisite, agonizing pleasure. He set a punishing rhythm from the start, each thrust jarring me against the cold leather of the table, driving me deeper into the abyss of sensation. He was silent except for his ragged breathing, the animalistic grunts that escaped his throat with each powerful stroke. This wasn’t about mutual pleasure. This was about ownership. About transmission. About a transaction being fulfilled. Suddenly, a different cold sting, a sharp prick on my forearm, cutting through the haze. My mind, drug-addled as it was, registered the familiar sensation. A slam. He wasn’t just fucking me; he was initiating a different kind of penetration, a different kind of shared experience. I heard the faint click of the plunger as he injected something into my vein, then his own low hiss of satisfaction as, I presumed, he slammed himself too, a shared ritual of chemical surrender while he was still buried inside me. The second rush hit me almost immediately, a fresh, electric wave of Tina surging through my bloodstream, amplifying every nerve ending, every tremor, every thrust. My body became a conduit for pure sensation, my thoughts dissolving into a soup of insatiable lust and dizzying oblivion. “This is what you sold,” he grunted, his voice strained with effort, his hips grinding into me with renewed ferocity. “This is what you bought.” He wasn’t talking to me, not really. He was talking to himself, narrating the event, cementing the terms of our dark contract to the universe. One of his hands found my hair, tangling in it, pulling my head back, exposing my throat, my vulnerability. The other closed around my already throbbing cock, stroking me with a relentless, knowing rhythm that mirrored his own thrusts. I was babbling, begging, though I didn’t know for what. For him to stop? For him never to stop? For this glorious, terrifying oblivion to swallow me whole? The combined effects of Molly, G, Tina, poppers, and the fresh slam had me utterly unhinged, my body a puppet to his every command, my mind lost in a shimmering fog of pleasure and fear. I felt the tension coiling in my gut, the familiar pull of an impending orgasm, but it was different this time. Darker, deeper, tainted with the primal fear of the unknown, yet liberated by the utter surrender. My body was screaming, stretched to its breaking point, yet aching for more, for this relentless invasion to continue, to consume me entirely. “You’re going to take it,” he growled, his pace becoming frantic, erratic, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, each impact a punch to my gut. “You’re going to take my load. You’re going to remember this feeling for the rest of your life. The feeling of becoming.” His words, infused with the guttural release of his own impending climax, tipped me over the edge. My orgasm ripped through me, violent and uncontrollable, painting stripes across my stomach and chest as my cock spasmed relentlessly. I screamed into the blindfold, a guttural, primal sound that was torn from the deepest part of my being, my body seizing around him, clinging to him even as I bucked against the table. My climax triggered his. With a final, deep, almost guttural roar, he stilled, buried inside me, his body trembling violently. I felt the hot, pulsing release, wave after wave of his molten seed pumping into me, filling me to overflowing. The physical manifestation of the transaction. The moment of conversion. A tremor wracked his body, and he let out a long, low groan that sounded like victory, like a predator sated. He collapsed on top of me for a moment, his weight heavy and warm, his breath hot against my ear. Then, with a sudden, almost clinical detachment, he pushed himself up and pulled out of me. The loss of his presence was a physical ache, an emptiness that echoed the void left by the drugs now beginning their inevitable descent from their peak. I felt a cold trail of his come leaking out of me, mixing with the lube and my own bodily fluids, running down my inner thighs. He untied the blindfold. The sudden rush of light was blinding, harsh, cruel after the intense darkness. I blinked up at him, my eyes struggling to adjust, the fluorescent overhead lights throwing stark shadows across his face. He was looking down at me, his expression unreadable, a strange mix of exhaustion and triumph. Sweat gleamed on his chest, on his brow, the remnants of his exertion. He looked down at where his spend was already leaking out of me onto the black leather, a shimmering, sticky testament to what had just transpired. “It is done,” he said, his voice flat now, all the passion and intensity spent, replaced by a cold finality. He turned and walked away, his back to me, not sparing another glance. He began to dress, methodically, as if nothing profound had just happened. I was left lying there, shattered and transformed, my body still buzzing with the chaotic symphony of drugs and lingering pleasure, my mind reeling from the raw, undeniable impact of the experience. The $50,000 problem was finally solved, a debt paid in the most absolute currency. But a million-dollar worth of new ones, unseen and terrifying, had just begun to bloom in the darkest corners of my soul. The conversion was complete. I was no longer just me; I was a host, a vessel, irrevocably altered, carrying the heavy weight of a secret, and perhaps, a new life ticking inside

Sorry for my English, it's not my native language. But I hope you will still have fun. Part 1 I knew early on that I was more interested in men than women. When I was young, I found some of my father's sex magazines. They were magazines about gay men. I was most interested in the stories where one man dominated another and fucked him regularly. I found stories in which the passive partner was forcibly locked in a chastity belt particularly horny. When I was 18, I took the opportunity to go to a sex store in the next biggest town. It was a normal sex store for heteros. I was quite nervous and only bought a few things, a cockring and a dildo. I wore the cockring almost all the time from then on, so I was always horny. I especially loved stimulating myself briefly until I cum, but then not letting myself come. Over time, I got better and better at this and after just a few weeks I was able to keep myself horny all the time. Whenever I was undisturbed, I fucked myself with the dildo, but also without letting myself come. About six months after my first visit to the sex store, I went there again. As I had been constantly stimulating myself for over two months without cumming, I was extremely horny. Besides my cockring, I only put on a T-shirt and a pair of tight jeans. Through the jeans, you could see my thick, extended 8.5“ cock and my big balls very clearly. I actually wanted to go to the same sex store as the first time, but on the way there I came across a gay sex store. So I decided to give it a try there. Visibly nervous, I entered the sex store and was amazed by what I saw. Not only was I pleasantly surprised by what I saw, but my horniness increased immeasurably. At first I just looked around the store. I immediately noticed three people in the sex store. Two employees, about 20 years old, who were dressed very sexy. Both were only wearing boots, jocks and a muslin shirt that exposed their fat pierced nipples. What was striking was that they both wore cuffs on their ankles, wrists and around their necks, which were secured with locks. Behind the counter stood a man of around 40 to 50 years of age dressed completely in leather. I immediately suspected that the boys were the leather man's slaves. I grabbed a shopping basket and headed for the books. I quickly found a book about how a boy was kept strictly chaste by his master. Then I looked around and found what I was looking for in the dildos and plugs. On the way to the jocks, I passed a small display case. It immediately took my breath away when I saw what was there. It was filled with all kinds of chastity devices. I stood in front of it for quite a while, so I didn't notice at first that one of the boys standing next to me. When I noticed him, I was a little startled, but he immediately put me at ease by addressing me. "Hi, I'm Mike. Are you interested in the chastity belts? You're welcome to try some." Somewhat taken by surprise, I just stammered "Yes, I would be happy to." He opened the showcase, took out a few items and just told me to follow him into the changing room. On the way to the changing room, he grabbed a few other items, went to the counter and was handed a small brown bottle by the leather guy. In the changing room, he asked me to strip completely. What I didn't realize at the time was that it wasn't the official changing room of the store, but that it was a bit out of the way. A little hesitantly, I undressed completely in front of him. When I stood naked in front of him, he immediately grabbed my stiff cock and commented appreciatively on what a hot piece I had between my legs. With his other hand, he grabbed my ass and without much resistance, he penetrated my hole with one finger. At the same time, he remarked that he could understand that with such a hot ass I would have to restrain my cock with a chastity belt. However, before I was to try on the various CBs, he wanted to prepare me accordingly. So he led me a few meters further to a shower. He put a cream on me and after a few minutes I had to shower it off. It took less than 10 minutes until I was completely depilated from the neck down. However, before I could get out of the shower, he came to me and said he needed to prepare me even better. I didn't immediately understand what he meant, but he reached into the bag with all the things he had collected and took out a small attachment for the shower hose. After a few minutes, he told me to bend forward. Then he pushed the attachment into my cunt and turned on lukewarm water. He rinsed my ass several times until only clear water ran out of me. He then filled another half liter of water into a bag and added a fairly large amount of white powder. After shaking the bag, he connected it to the metal tube and let the entire amount of water flow into me. He pulled the metal tube out of my ass and immediately sealed it with a plug he had chosen. Before I could say anything, I felt an intense burning sensation inside me. The boy just grinned broadly and asked if I could feel anything yet. I couldn't say anything to him, I just moaned really loudly. "Man, I'm so horny all of a sudden" I said to him. I could hardly control myself not to grab his cock, suck it hard and then let him fuck me. He seemed to guess my thoughts because he quickly pulled his jock down. I could immediately see that his cock was firmly locked in a chastity belt. "Unfortunately, I can't fuck you with my cock because it's been locked away in the CB for over two years. But our master will give you a good pounding and pump your ass full of his cum". I was just about to reply when I was kicked hard in the balls from behind. "Shut up, you pig!" I heard the leather guy from behind immediately afterwards as I went to my knees in pain. He grabbed me and pulled me up. "I love turning big cocks into very small cocks". He pushed my head down and I had to look down at my super small cock. "It won't get any bigger, I will teach you that and the chastity device that you will wear permanently from now on will make sure of that". He gave the slave boy a sign and within a few moments I had been fitted with a chastity cage. It was much smaller than the two boys'. Then I was pushed back into the shower and the plug was removed. After I had emptied myself, he pulled me to a bench and pushed me forward. My ass was well up in the air and I could already feel him squirting something into my ass. It burned like hell but after a short time my ass wanted to be filled. "Ha, ha, you cunt, does the pig need a fat cock"? I could already feel a fat glans on my hole and a fat PA. "I'm going to ride you in now my new slave and before you get out of here, your ass will be well filled with lots of cum". No sooner said than done. With one deep thrust he penetrated me completely.

This is a true account of the first time I was used. It was so long ago I haven't changed the name and location that it took place. The person, Ron is long dead and the workshop demolished. Everything is exactly as I remember it. In 1977 (yes I'm that old) I was an apprentice mechanic for the Royal Mail, otherwise known as The Post Office, at the main Motor Transport Workshop in West London. The bulding consisted of separate buildings for rebuilding engines, gearboxes, suspension units and a vehicle body workshop. Additionally there facilities for general servicing of cars, motorbikes, and large lorries.All together there were probably 120 + people employed there. As an apprentice you had to work a few months in each department. At the time I was spending all money on racing motorcycles and doing as much overtime as I could to fund it. I regularly worked a couple of hours extra each day and Saturday mornings. As an apprentice you limited as which departments you could do overtime and there always had to be supervision. I had recently joined the 'Docking Line' which was basically for servicing small cars and vans. One particular Saturday morning I was doing the valve clearances on a Commer Van. These had three bench like seats in the cab and engine was located under the seats. So to work on the engine you removed all three seats and a plate that covered the engine. That particular Saturday Big Ron, a qualified mechanic and I were the only people working in the whole building. The work I was doing meant I had to lean in through the passenger side and stretch to reach into the van. I had the rocker cover off and was checking the valve clearances with feeler gauges when Big Ron pushed in beside me. I have to explain here that 'Big Ron' was called that, not because he was well endowed, although he was, but because he was a fat cunt. Also that there was minimal room through the passenger door entrance, so when he pushed in beside me he was also slightly on top of me. He asked how it was going and I replied that I was nearly done. I could feel his body pressing harder than was necessary into my left buttock and back and also feel something hard pressing into me. Initially I thought he had a screwdriver or something in his pocket but, as he pushed further into the cab I realised it was his cock and he was fully erect. I tried to move a little but realised I was pinned down. As I did so I felt him rub himself against me. Now, I knew I was attracted to men from an early age but had never acted on it. Big Ron was in no way attractive but, I have to say I was turned on by the way his cock felt. I was also extremely nervous and embarrassed. Ron was the last person I would have thought was homosexual. (Gay was a reference that didn't exist then. At least, I'd never heard it said in that context) He was very much a man. Rough and ready with a deep voice. However, there he was, obviously stimulated and rubbing himself against me. "You feel that" he said obviously referring to his hard on. "I reckon you like a bit of cock don't you" I was so nervous but my own cock was now also fully hard. All I could mutter was "mmmm" I could feel his hot breath on my neck. "I knew you were queer" he wispered into my ear and grabbed my right buttock then slid his hand between my arse cheeks, at which point I gasped and he chuckled. He then moved directly behind me and rubbed his cock between my cheeks and bit into the back of neck. He then pulled me back slightly by pulling my hips with both hands, then reached round and grabbed my cock which was now dripping profusely inside my filthy overalls. I felt incredibly turned on. The weight of his fat torso on my back, his cock pressing into my arse and his hand on my cock made my head spin. "I'm going to have you boy" he said. I knew what he meant, he was going to fuck me. I wanted it but, I was incredibly nervous and a little scared. I had never been penetrated. He reached around me, unzipped my overalls then pulled them back over my shoulders. As he did so I I pulled my arms free. He continued to pull them down my back and legs and I stepped out of them. All I was left wearing was a T-shirt and a pair of briefs which he roughly pulled off me. I was shaking visibly now and I heard him unzip the front of his own overalls. Then, for the first time I felt a naked cock on my back. I reach backwards and felt his member. It felt huge and it was dripping at the end. "Suck it" was all he said. I turned and saw it was at least seven or eight inches long and was pointing directly up at me from under his huge belly. He put his hands on my head and pushed me down until my mouth was level with his cock. I have to say he smelt of body odour and I wasn't keen but, opened my mouth and tasted cock and another mans precum for the first time. He began to thrust forward and deep in my throat until I was chocking. My throat began to produce huge amounts of viscous fluid which caked his cock. "Enough " was all said then pulled on my hair and me up, turning me around at the same time. I felt his cock now caked in the mucus from my throat slide between my arse cheeks. "How many times have you been fucked boy" I replied "Never" "Fuck, yes a virgin. Going to deflower you boy" I felt the tip of his cock pressing against my hole and tensed. "You need to relax. I ain't going to lie, it's going to hurt the first time. Your sphincter has to be broken in" With that he pushed inside me. The pain was horrendous. I begged him to take his cock out but he just held it inside me then began to slowly fuck me. Tears were rolling down my face as I sobbed. I continued begging him to stop but he clearly didn't care. My arse was on fire and he had to use all his strength to hold me firm. He fucked me for a full ten minutes. All the time I was crying with the pain. He was fucking hard when his breathing changed and he grunted then cried out as his cock ejeculated copious amoumts of his sperm into me. I was so grateful when cock slipped out of me. I looked round and was scarred when I saw blood on his cock. I thought he had severely injurred me at sight of the blood and how sore my arse hole felt. If I had to go to hospital how would be tell them what had happened. Big Ron tried to reassure me, saying that it was only because it was my first time. I went home still scared and petrified I had a serious injury. I vowed that I would never do that again. It took a few days before the soreness dissipated. By the following Saturday all I could think about was getting fucked again. I'd had several wanks imagining Big Rons cock in me again. Big Ron would regularly fuck me after work in the toilet or on overtime for the next six months. Each time he fucked me the pain was less and pleasure more. I still miss that cock. One morning I turned up at work to be told Big Ron at suffered a fatal stroke. As far as I can recall this is exactly as events that day happened.

Getting fucked with the webcam streaming. If someone doesn't understand this no amount of my trying to explain it to them will bring them into it. Over time I've fucked and been fucked on Cam4, Chaterbate and others. My record was 4,600 viewers watching me getting fucked on Cam4. I don't hide cameras, all participants a fully aware of the streaming.

Hit Steamworks Berkeley last week for lights out. My first fuck of the evening was Asian daddy who began sucking my nips. I leaded back and he moved to my cock. Before long he impaled himself on my cock, with his tight hole. We from him riding and me thrusting in him. He moaned constantly in enjoyment. Begging for me to breed his ass. This was my first fuck of the evening, and wasnt ready to unload. But i made sure his hole was general happy with its usage. my next encounter started at the shower, as i was cleaning up from the first. This South East Asian Daddy was eyeing me. I notice he linger look. Before he disappeared. I found a short time later by the blow ramp and he has seat down looking around. I hung around the area and once more hes eyes were on me. And i moved closer. And we began to touch each other. Soon he hugged me,tightly. I had a feeling he was in need on body contact. We went back to my room where this continued, touching and hold other. Soon he shifted and began to blow me. With his ass near my face. Lubed my finger and began to play with the opening of his hole. Warming and building to him ready to get fucked. I had him lay on his stomach and laid on top to drive home the body contact. I began to fuck him, and felt would be fine place to unload in. Sadly, couldnt as i found myself overheating and losing to hardon. We parted soon after, he was happy. i eventually cooled off. I tried to show i was open to being fucked too. But no takers. Eventually i found a silver fox daddy and once body contact was the focus. Before I left. After a few rounds pacing i headed home. We i jacked off the my load. After the evening of stimulation. Ill be happy when my partner is home from his trip. I can definitely dump loads in my pig bitch holes.

Anytime that someone has asked me how I got pozzed, I've always told the truth! (Including my doctors, and my social worker)... I tell them that, honestly, I don't know who pozzed me, that I'm a slut, and have had probably over a thousand sex partners, most of them anonymous/one night stands/adult bookstores/theaters, etc.. I usually laugh, as I tell them this. If they act shocked, or offended, oh well!

I'm with the rest, definitely the raw hard pounding sex, then the hot breeding. When a top cums in me I just about cum myself. Biggest turn on.

1. 2. 3. And 4. Rimming. Rimming is my favorite. I am versatile and rimming nose no position. I will read my top and I will rim my bottom. 5. Raw. Only raw. I’ve worn a rubber three times in my life and that was in high school, because I was afraid of getting the girls pregnant.

wish it was with my TWIN brothers .. 😆

All the fucking time. I get off on feeling like a whore / slut / pig. (Wait. I AM a whore, a slut and a pig.)

Drinking cum

Part 2 I moaned loudly. Without mercy, he pounded deep into my ass until I could feel his body against mine. His low-hanging balls slapped against mine. "What a hot fuck hole" he moaned loudly. Without giving me a break, he pulled his cock out again up to the glans and pushed it deep inside me again. He only said briefly to Mike "Call the others, tell them there's a hot cunt to fuck and breed here". He fucked me hard and powerful for at least half an hour without mercy. Then he grabbed me and simply lifted me up, his cock still deep in my cunt. He took three steps, his cock slipping even deeper inside me, and put me in a sling. Mike was immediately on the spot and tied my ankles and wrists to the sling. "The reinforcements will be here in 10 minutes," he said. "Then we should let the pig fly a little better," the Master replied and I saw him disappear again with a needleless syringe between my ass. "This time you'll get a really fat booty bump, my horny bitch" and I could already feel him squirting the contents of the syringe deep into my ass. It burned like fire again and just a few moments later I was overcome by another wave of absolute sexual desire. "Well, do you need something in your ass?" said the master. "Then ask me and I'll fuck your brains out of your skull". I just couldn't help myself and said "Fuck me, squirt your juice into my cunt, fuck my brains out". The master didn't need to be told twice and with a brutal, powerful, deep thrust he plunged his huge cock deep into my cunt. He fucks me with maximum force. Whenever he closed, the sling came towards his cock so that he fucked deeper and deeper into me. He had long been through my second muscle. After 5 minutes, he moaned loudly and said "Come on cunt, ask for my cum. Do you want to feel my toxic cum deep in your cunt? I'll squirt my whole charged load deep into your hole. From now on you're my fuck cunt and you'll let anyone I want to fuck you." "Yes, please shoot your cum deep inside my cunt!" I screamed across the room. Just a few seconds later, I felt his cock continue to inflate in my cunt and he started to cum deep inside me. Seven, eight, nine, ten times I felt his cock contracting and squirting cum deep inside me. "Can you feel me filling your cunt with my spunk? When my buddies get here, we'll really send you into orbit and then you'll get one poz load after another squirted into your cunt." With that he pulled his still hard cock out of my ass. Mike had already been waiting for it and as soon as the cock was out of my ass he pushed a really fat and quite long plug into me. I could see out of the corner of my eye that the black plug was completely covered in white powder, so I wasn't surprised that as soon as it was in my hole, it burned and I got even hornier.

Dan's fingers curled tighter around the key in his pocket, the metal biting into his palm as he entered the apartment. It had been five weeks now since the meds had been locked away. The risk was getting real. He should really call it off he thought. But when he entered and saw Jimmy wearing only shorts, his cock already tenting in them, the time didn't seem right. Jimmy beckoned him into his bedroom and proceeded to undress Dan, neither of them saying a word. Jimmy removed his shorts and guided Dan to assume the position to be rimmed, tossing him a bottle of poppers. Dan felt like he was on automatic pilot as Jimmy worshiped his hole with tongue and fingers. More so as Jimmy pressed his raw poz cock inside Dan, slowly and smoothly pushing against his second hole, then breaching it with the head before starting stroking slowly in and out. Jimmy moved Dan through several positions, before finally cumming deep inside while spooning Dan. He left his cock inside after cumming, while Dan wanked out his load. "Why did you get your tat?" Dan asked, breaking their silence. "A few reasons," Jimmy said, "One, it makes me feel hot. Two I don't have to deal with guys to freaked to take a poz dick in public places like the baths. And three, it helps me identify guys who are turned on by it." "Because you like pozzing them." Dan stated simply. "I do," Jimmy replied, "it's such a turn on. And besides, it feels like a good deed." At this Jimmy's cock twitched in Dan's ass. Jimmy's words hung in the air like a challenge. The bedroom, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the sheer curtains, felt suddenly stifling. Jimmy's chest rose and fell steadily beneath him, his breath warm against Dan's neck. The biohazard tattoo, a stark black symbol over Jimmy's heart, seemed to pulse with a life of its own, a constant reminder of the choice Dan was being asked to make. "How many have their been?" Dan wanted to know. "Ten," Jimmy whispered, the word lingering on his tongue. "Including Carl and Craig. Jason has eleven to his credit, since he pozzed me. I begged him to after watching him poz fuck a shared trick." Jimmy's smirk was almost imperceptible, but it was there, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "You make it sound like a competition," Dan said. Jimmy murmured, his voice low and husky. "It's not about numbers, Dan. It's about... freedom. About shedding the fear and embracing what we are." Dan closed his eyes, the weight of Jimmy's words pressing down on him. He could feel the other man's cock still buried deep inside him, a constant, throbbing presence that seemed to echo the rhythm of his own conflicted heart. The key in the pocket of his discarded trousers felt like a burden, a symbol of the control he thought he had, but now, in this moment, it felt like a lie. "Freedom," Dan repeated, the word feeling foreign on his lips. "And what about the ones who don't want it? The ones who run?" Jimmy's hand slid up Dan's torso, his touch both soothing and possessive. "They're not ready," he said simply. "And that's their choice. But for those who are... it's a blessing. A chance to live without the chains of fear." Dan's breath hitched as Jimmy's fingers traced the line of his pecs, sending shivers down his body. He wanted to believe it, wanted to surrender to the allure of that freedom. But the key in his pocket was a constant reminder of the consequences, of the lives he could change with a single decision. "And you?" Dan asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "What about you, Jimmy? What do you want?" Jimmy's green eyes locked onto his, intense and unreadable. "I want what I've always wanted," he said, his voice steady. "To live. To feel. To be desired. And to give that desire back to others." Dan's heart pounded in his chest, the conflict within him reaching a fever pitch. He could feel Jimmy's cock twitch inside him, a silent plea, a demand for an answer. "And me?" Dan asked, his voice breaking. "What do you want from me?" Jimmy's hand cupped the back of Dan's neck, pulling him down into a kiss that was both tender and desperate. "I want you to choose," he whispered against Dan's lips. "Not out of fear, but out of desire. I want you to want this, Dan. To want me to poz you. To want us to poz you." Dan's eyes fluttered closed as Jimmy's lips trailed down his jaw, his neck, the touch sending sparks of pleasure through his body. He could feel the other man's desire, a tangible force that seemed to envelop him, pulling him under. The key in his pocket felt like a distant memory, the weight of it fading as Jimmy's mouth worked its magic. "Choose me, Dan," Jimmy murmured, his breath hot against Dan's ear. "Choose us. Choose the freedom we can offer each other." Dan's hands clenched into fists, the sheets tangling between his fingers as he struggled to find his voice. The conflict within him was a storm, raging and unrelenting. But as Jimmy's lips brushed against his, as his cock throbbed deep inside him, Dan felt the walls he had built around himself begin to crumble. "I..." Dan started, his voice hoarse. "I don't know if I can..." Jimmy's hand tightened on the back of his neck, his touch both gentle and commanding. "You can," he said, his voice a low growl. "You want to. I can feel it, Dan. I can feel your desire. Let go. Let me in." Dan's breath caught in his throat as Jimmy's lips captured his once more, the kiss deep and demanding. He could feel the other man's need, a raw, primal force that seemed to mirror his own. The key in his pocket was forgotten, the weight of it lost in the storm of sensation that engulfed him. As their lips parted, Dan's eyes met Jimmy's, the conflict within him still raging, but muted now, overshadowed by the desire that burned between them. Jimmy's hand slid down his body, his fingers tracing the lines of Dan's muscles, his touch both possessive and worshipful. "Say it, Dan," Jimmy whispered, his voice a low rumble. "Say you want this. You know you do want it." Dan's heart pounded in his chest, the words caught in his throat. But as Jimmy's lips brushed against his, as his cock throbbed deep inside him, Dan felt the last of his resistance melt away. "I want you to poz me," Dan whispered, the words a confession, a surrender. "I want this." Jimmy's smile was triumphant, his eyes shining with a mixture of desire and satisfaction. He pulled Dan down into another kiss, their bodies moving in sync, the rhythm of their passion building once more. As their bodies moved together, Dan felt a sense of freedom he had never known, a release from the chains of fear and doubt that had held him back for so long. Jimmy's cock now thrusting deep inside him once again a constant reminder of the choice he had made, the desire he had embraced. And as they moved towards the edge, towards the precipice of pleasure, Dan felt a sense of peace, a sense of belonging. The conflict within him was still there, but it was muted now, overshadowed by the desire that burned between them. In that moment, as their bodies climaxed together, Dan knew that he had made the right choice. The key in his pocket was forgotten, the weight of it lost in the storm of sensation that engulfed them both.

here's one LOVELY point of view that Kirk espoused He also lashed out at the gay community, denouncing what he called the “LGBTQ agenda,” expressing opposition to same-sex marriage and suggesting that the Bible verse Leviticus 20:13, which endorses the execution of homosexuals, serves as “God’s perfect law when it comes to sexual matters.”....just in case you were unaware, Leviticus 20:13 states 3 “‘If a man has sexual relations with a man as one does with a woman, both of them have done what is detestable. They are to be put to death; their blood will be on their own heads.. So in other words, Kirk was asking for you, personally, to be put to death because you are gay...never mind that there were laws against eating shellfish, or using cotton and poly blend clothes. I am not mourning his death.

Current Day: I get out of the shower after my latest hook up. I hope Geoff doesn't mind me breeding his son. Hopefully it takes, like father, like son. I get dressed and heat up some leftovers for dinner. There is a bang on my off-campus apartment door. "Hold on!" Who the fuck can it be. The banging continues. "Jesus fuck I'm coming!" I open the door and see my little brother Jake crying heavily with a backpack and large duffle bag. "Mom and Dad kicked me out. Can I crash here for a little bit?" I open the door and let him in. He drops his bags on the kitchen table and plops on the couch with his head in his hands not sobbing as much. "How did you get here?" "One of my team mates dropped me off on his way out of town." "What happened?" "So the guys that Paul sent over, was a lot. Like 12 - 15 men. They all fucked me. It was amazing honestly. But apparently mom and dad got back early and saw them gangbanging me in their bed and left. They came back later after all but a couple of the bikers left. They finished fucking me in front of dad then left me on the bed naked and covered in piss and cum." "Shit. Did what did mom and dad do? Dad made me clean their room and grabbed a bunch of clothes and left for the night. The next day they came back and yelled at me, sold my car, phone, PS5, and grounded me good. It was hell. They asked if you had anything to do with it and I kept you out of it. I told them about the pool party after the swim meet, and then that one of the guys I hooked up with there, I kept seeing when you were out. I said that I loved getting fucked so much that I just started messaging random men on various apps and websites to come fuck me. Mom threw up and dad took her to Mrs. Austin's for a few days while he dealt with me. Mom picked me up from school a week later and took me to our pediatrician and told him everything." "Fuck dude, I'm sorry this all happened. You didn't have to keep my name out of it. They think I'm Stan half the time any ways." "Let me finish." I nod for him to continue, "The pediatrician asked her to leave the room and so he could do a full exam and such. Mark, our pediatrician was one of the guys that Paul sent." "Oh shit. What did he do?" "He fucked me again. I apologized about mom and asked him to be gentle with everything. He laughed and said not to worry. I could see his cock get so fucking hard. He had me strip and I was so hard and turned on. I put the robe on and he did an exam and took some blood. Then he did a deep rectal exam. I dropped to my knees and asked him if I could suck his cock quickly. He told me that all I could due is slobber over his cock and that's all the lube I was going to get. I begged him to breed me. It's been over a week since I was fucked and I was going crazy." "Shit dude, that fucking hot. I always had a crush on him. Go on." "I unzipped his pants and undid his belt and pulled his pants down, he was in a Nasty Pig jock, I pulled his cock out and he pulled his shirt off, that's when I saw it. He has a biohazard tattoo right above his cock. I asked him for his POZ load. He gave it to me, hard and raw. I flooded my pussy with his toxic cum. He pulled his own butt plug out of his ass and shoved it into mine. He had me move rooms and get dressed before mom was brought back. He told her that he took a blood panel, did a full exam and physical. Told her I passed with flying colors, but he will have to wait for the labs to come back. However, since it was so long since the day of the incident happened, there was nothing we could do but wait. Once the test came back, if all was negative, they'd have to wait for 31 days from the incident to do another blood sample and if that came back neg, I could start on Prep. She didn't say anything to me for a few days. Dad and I took their mattress to the dump and I had to pay for a new one. Doctor called and said that I was negative for anything at that point, but to keep an eye on me for any ailments and that they'd retest in a couple of weeks." Fuck, but that's still early, maybe. Why is he here? "Fast forward to two days ago, I woke up sick as a dog, chills, sweats, vomiting." Fuck yes!! Keep calm. "Mom takes me back to the pediatrician. He does some blood tests and send them off next door. I see he's rock hard, then it hits me. I may have HIV. I vomit again. He smiles and tell us to comeback this morning. He calls me back by myself and tells me I have HIV and that I'm very toxic right now. Mark, I was so hard, so fucking hard and turned on. I didn't understand why. He drops to his knees and pulls my cock out and starts sucking me off. I'm so sick, but angry and on fire and....I've never felt like that other than when you first fucked me, and the night you and Paul all fucked me. This was more intense that that was. He asked me to recharge him. He dropped his pants and bent over then exam table. I immediately fuck his ass. Hard, no lube, he was so loose and warm, and he pulled my cock out and fingered himself and scratched his hole so my DNA would take quicker. I fucked him a few more strokes and then bred him. I pulled my cock out and it was covered in cum and blood and then he sucked it all off and got dressed. He told me it was up to me who I told or if I went on meds. I asked to bring mom back so he could tell her. She started crying and said I was dead to her. How could I be worse than you. We went home and she told dad that I had AIDS, I had to correct her and show him the paperwork. That's when they kicked me out, cut me off, told me that I was dead to them. I ran to the bank and pulled all of my money of of those accounts and set up my own account before they could steal it. Then got a ride here." "Fuck Jake, I'm sorry to hear all of this. I'm not surprised that's how they reacted. Remember that's what they did to me when I came out, but they were so supportive of you when you came out." "Yeah, they're pretty fucked up, but no worse than we are. Just in a different way..." Goddamn I'm so horny. I look over him as he adjusts his hard cock. "Are you still sick, like dying sick, or able to do stuff?" "I'm kinda tired, but part of me is wide awake." "I want you to fuck me then. I want you to breed your big brother. Give me your Highly Viral Load." "Didn't you hear me? I have HIV." "So do I, now fuck me!" He launches himself at me, knocking me over. He make out while we rip each other's clothes off. "I've been thinking about breeding you with my POZ seed all day. When did you find out?" "Not terribly long ago." "Were you POZ the first time we fucked?" "You never asked." "Fucking asshole." He shoves his cock in me, thankfully I still had some cum from Geoff's son. "Why is your hole wet?" "Trevor was here before you." He starts drilling my hole. "Geoff probably pozzed him. I saw them fuck each other a few times. Who knocked you up?" "Paul." "Fuck. You should have told me." "You didn't ask." "I didn't care, I've been reading about poz shit for years. This was my biggest fantasy. Thank you big bro." "You know how to really thank me." He bred me three times that night. We fell into step over the next few days like slutty roommates. Although there were a lot of questions he had, he always wanted me to give him my seed, he stopped breeding me a few days later. He said that once he started feeling normal from the fuck flu, he wasn't as turned on by topping like he was. "How am I going to pay for school and everything?" "I can support you for a little bit, but I have an idea. Let me talk to a couple of people and I will get back to you. Don't worry. You still have your scholarship here. You can live with me, just give me a couple hundred a month for rent and utilities and I'll game plan the rest." I call Paul the next morning while Jake is setting up his classes for his freshman year. When he get's home, Paul and I are there waiting on him. We immediately both worship Paul's massive cock and fall in a pile on my bed, Paul fucking us both, Paul and I dp'ing Jake, Jake and I taking loads from Paul, Jake cumming on my face, me giving my little bro another load of POZ cum. We march out to the dining room naked, I grab a few beers for us. "Paul and I have the perfect idea. Short term big cash infusion: Conversion Gangbang/Orgy. Long term: I'll show you how to set up an Onlyfans, Patreon, and a couple of other questionable sites." "Fuck that's not what I had in mind. But I'm interested. How would the conversion Gangbang/Orgy work? Everyone here is POZ." Paul responds, "You lie. Say your both neg. We can provide the opportunity to impregnate two sexy twink brothers, you both are that. People would line around the block to do that. I can set it up on few we sites and use my contacts as well as Mark's to find you some generous sugar daddies. Secondly, we can also post up for after that party that there are two brother taking loads, no loads refused. We just ask for donations for food and supplies when they get there. I have the facility to host any type of party you wish." "Would that work?" Jake asks. "How do you think I can afford this apartment, my camera gear, my Audi, all my clothes without having a 'real' job? Paul was one of my first sugar daddies." "I'm in. What do I need to do?" "Stop fucking for a few days. Then fuck every guy at the parties, and any that mention's my name. I'll be back tomorrow with more details." He kisses both of us before he puts his jeans and shirt on. "You know, it's really hot that both of you have my strain." And he walks out.

He wasn’t. Drew has now sucked him off several times. We’ve had a few 3somes where Drew’s Dad and Daddy (me) have shot our loads in his mouth. He’s also watched me fuck Drew a few times. I tell him how good Drew’s arse is and he should try it. Last time I pulled out and guided him towards Drew’s hole. His cock touched Drew’s hole but he backed out at the last second. Drew wants both his Dads to breed him so I’m hoping unit will happen.

Breeding and raw sex. Cumming inside my btm is non-negotiable. Even long before PrEp was available I was seeding other men with my DNA; I just couldn't help it.

Actually got bored after a bit. Which probably has something to do with me and not the cocks. Small group of about 10. I was pretty zoned out by the last one and my hole was nice and sloppy. Will I do it again? In a heartbeat.

I have a married/partnered Cub that I've known for many years that loves to swallow my loads when his partner is at work or out of town. He's has been doing this for years now. A couple of weeks ago he came to where I work when my boss was out and swallowed my load at the shop. He just called and is on his way over to the shop again to swallow another load or two from me. As long as we don't get interrupted by customers, we're going to see how many loads he can work out of me. I always shoot big loads, and even bigger ones when it's someone cheating on their partner.

This story is a major fantasy of mine. I was coming out while I was in junior high in high school. Had a major crush on one of my PE teachers stole two jockstraps from him. I followed him for the next 10 or 15 years and would’ve loved to have Played around with him.

Excellent. At some point, we all would’ve liked to have been in that scenario with a brother.

Great true breedings here, no pulling out. (I may have posted this earlier, can't recall or find it) [think before following links] https://xhamster.com/videos/cump-30-mins-of-missionary-fuckin-and-breedin-4-xhLkgYI

This morning I woke up to breakfast. My ex had stayed over. When I came out of the bedroom, he was naked, sitting on the sofa talking to another naked guy. The other guy was a 30ish Ecuadorian with a big banana like dick, uncut and curved. He was on the shorter side and slim with a helmet of long black hair. Sexy .I go to the bathroom and they both call me to join them. Next thing I know, I'm on my knees ferociously sucking that Ecuadorian dick. It had a wicked curve so was hard to deep throat. Anyway, it gets hard as granite and he gets up and gestures for me to get on the sofa. He lubes up and slams his dick all the way in. He starts with deep slow strokes and after a while, he starts gushing pre-cum. He pulls out and it keep spewing and he feeds it to me. I suck his dick some more and then he gestures again. I assume the position and he enters and puts he whole body on top of me and starts pounding the fuck out of me,. Soon, he starts moaning long loud moans as he noisily unloads in me. He stays in and rests for a second. In Spanish he says he hasn't busted in five days. Hr pulls out and I clean him off but he's very sensitive. I get up and go wash my hands. With his 5 day load still in me, I then made a big pot of oatmeal. Served it with honey and cinnamon and fresh blueberries. We all had a bowl and then he walked out with me as I walked the dog. Still have his warm seed in me. It was a very very good way to wake up.

Happened a few weeks ago. I finally got my place back to myself have having family member living with me for awhile. So i was lounging in bed naked. And was planning to have a j/o when the mature south asian otter daddy contacted me. Asking if i was free? He had a hungry white bottom bear that need fucking, and was i free to come join in. I was and quickly got ready to head over. hadn't been over to his place in a while a got a little lost in the dark getting there. But soon made it. he greeted me naked at the door, his furry body looking lovely, and i stripped off on the way to his bedroom. I need a little warming up before i was ready to fuck. And climbed on the bed to try out his mouth. Which he worked on, and needs more skill development. That when i learn he was straight, but liked to get fucked. i was so ready and climbed up behind him, made my way in to already fucked hole. He groan as i started fuckhim. Otter daddy, took my place on the bed getting oral from the straight bear. Moan as his own aroused raised. He wasnt ready to cum in him yet. Clearly liking a sloppy hole. As i fucked him he talked to the bear, about my dick. Going back in his memory to our early sessions and especially when i took his cum virginity. I was the first guy to breed him accidental. I covered in sweat as i pump into him. He s definitely enjoying it. Otter daddy taunts the bear more about the time i fucked him, when was a bottom. And tells me to unload in this bears hole. “ this bear likes to get fucked, and definitely likes getting fucked, by brown dick. Before much longer, i reach my point and unload into him. Panting, still in my high, i managed a second load into him. Before Otter Daddy took my place and added his to the hole.

Following up where I left off with this story. Hope everyone enjoys the next two chapters. After I finish breeding the pair of twinks for my site, I message Brandon and Andy to meet me at my place in two hours. I head to the store to get some energy drinks and food for everyone, them make my way back home. I see Paul's Corvette there and park next to him. I walk inside and get to the kitchen, put the groceries away and text Andy and Brandon that the door is unlocked. I look out back and see Jake on his back on the patio table taking Paul's fat cock. "Oh shit...fuck Daddy...Mark you're....fuck this cock is amazing...This is...um...Daddy." Is all my little brother can manage to say as Paul isn't slowing down. I know exactly what my bro is experiencing. It's why Paul is the only person I'd ever marry if I could have that cock every day. "Jake, what the hell? I'm gone for a few hours and you're already fucking strangers at home. Bro, so proud! Tell me..." I lean next to his face and kiss him passionately, tasting the familiar hint of piss, clearly not the first round. "What is his name?" Paul pulls his cock out to pause to let the sluttiness of what Jake is doing set in for him. I look at his cock and it's pink from friction with a bit of blood streaking around his tip and on his PA. If I hadn't pozzed Jake, he will be by the end of tonight. Paul taps Jake's hole, "What's my name slut?" Jake hesitates and looks at both of us, "Daddy..." "No, his real name?" Realization sets in his face. He doesn't know Paul's name. "You don't know it do you? Fucking slut." Paul continues to fuck Jake harder. I lean down and whisper in his hear, "Do you even know his status? Did you ask? I doubt it since you don't know his name." Jake moans loudly as his cock erupts all over himself. "Fucking slut, bro." I lick up his neg cum off of his belly and snow ball it with him. I look around at the neighbor's houses and see Geoff in his upstairs windows watching us with his cock out stroking. I wink at him and tell Jake and Paul that we should move inside and continue the gift giving there since some friends are about to show up for the orgy. They slowly get up and make their way inside, Jake walking slowly and intently as though in pain from Paul's massive hog and PA. I strip my clothes off outside and pull my plug out and put my back towards Geoff. I bend down and finger my hole making sure to scratch myself up a bit. I stand upright and look directly at Geoff and wave for him to come over. When I get inside, Brandon and Alex just arrived and are both striping their clothes off. "Master bedroom is upstairs, I has a big king bed that we should all fit on, plus some other furniture. There's drinks and food in the fridge," Geoff walks in at this point. "Welcome to the party, neighbor. We have one top, one full blown slutty fresh bottom, and three verse sluts. Take your pick. If anyone need's Viagra, it's next to the fridge." "Wait...mom and dad's room?!" "It's the only place that's big enough, and it's hot as fuck to watch while getting fucked. Only two rules tonight, everyone has to breed little bro here at least once. And no condoms." We all make our way upstairs and proceed to have one of the hottest orgies I can remember in a while. Jake took at least 9 fully toxic loads that I noted, the only one mentioning his status was Geoff. Apparently he too is poz and is off meds for a while. I took 5 and gave four. My favorite part was Paul on his back, Jake riding cowboy while I worked my cock into his hole to DP him. Brandon was feeding Jake his fat black cock while Geoff was fucking my hole for the third time of the night and Alex was rimming Geoff. Everyone left around 3 am after drowning me and Jake in their poz piss. I woke up around mid-morning and proceeded to edit and upload the video from fucking the pair of twinks and posting the video. I went to my parent's room and pulled the four gopros I set up the morning before. I downloaded the videos and began editing a teaser for my site to use at a later date. Just before I finished the final cut, Jake hobbles in. Still reeking of piss and cum. He plops himself on the floor next to my bed as I change the screen on my computer. "Fuck...that was intense." I nod and wait for him to continue. "I never thought about anyone's status until Geoff told me to take his Poz load. I'm nervous that I could be Poz now. But then again, you all bred my ass, so what's the chance he knocked me up? But also what's everyone else's status? I don't even know my Daddy's name." I get up and sit down next to him, wrapping my arm around his shoulders, "Well, first of all, his name is Paul. And he's one of the best fuckers I know. I'm so glad you got to experience his cock and PA. If you're nervous about being POZ you can go to the health the department and get some meds today or tomorrow and it should minimize the risk. You can also talk to your doctor about going on Prep, but you'll have to stop fucking for a while before they'll prescribe it to you. Or you can risk it." "Paul's cock was amazing. I don't remember his PA the other day, but I guess they're removable...I can't go to the doctor since mom and dad would find out. I may go to the health department. I don't know. What would you do?" I pause to think for a minute, I need to walk a fine line here before it all falls apart. "It's not my life, it's your life. Then again, if you were to become poz, you could make me poz and anyone else that you have sex with. That's just something you're going to accept if you go that route. I love cock, and ass, I happily take any cock presented to me, and fuck any sexy, tight, or hairy hole. Will I catch something? Yes, most likely, will I die. Probably not right away. But I could slip at school and hit my head, or a drunk driver could kill me leaving the grocery store. I don't think about stuff like that, I much rather look at the positive side of life, and enjoy as much as I can. We're all going to die at some point, no need to be miserable and ask yourself what if on your deathbed. But that's me." "Thanks. That's some food for thought." I hug him tighter and see he's rock hard. "You never fucked anyone last night did you?" "No, but I really enjoyed being used by everyone. It was worth it." I let go of him and get on my knees in front of him. "I see that this poz talk has got your little pecker quite hard, since your ass it tore up, I think I'll just suck you off. You should give me your poz seed little brother. Fill my belly with your toxic cum." I quickly deepthroat him before he can reply. We both get into with him finally starting to be verbal just before he cums. "That's it big brother, take your little brother's poz loadddddd......." "Delicious!" I kiss him and tell him to go shower and take it easy today and use the hot tub. We don't do much over the next couple of days. I can start to tell Jake is getting cock hungry again. I have to head him off a few times, and breed him four more times until the end of the week. I spend the down time editing the videos and cleaning the house, making sure to air out our parent's bedroom. Jake never left the house, his fate seemingly sealed. I get a text from our Dad saying that they'll be home earlier than anticipated. He Venmo's me a couple hundred bucks (paying me to convert the perfect son) and I let him know that all is well and that I'm heading back to school in the morning before they're scheduled to arrive. I don't tell Jake and make sure he still thinks they're returning next week. I text Paul and give him a heads up and ask for a huge favor. He happily agrees and we both text a couple of our contacts for the morning. Jake wakes me up before my alarm the following morning. "You need to leave please." "What's going on?" "Paul texted me that he wants me to fuck some of his friends this morning, but you shouldn't be here." "Some brother you are, kicking me out of my own home to get cock. I like it. Give me 20 minutes and I'll head back to school. It was a blast little brother. Enjoy yourself." "Thanks. Love ya bro!" He heads to the bathroom to shower. I text our parents and let them know I'm on the road back to school and I hope they had a safe flight back. I then grab my bags and head out to my car. I drive to the mall a mile from our house and park my car. I walk back towards my house and text Paul that he's good to go. I also text a couple of my dirty old fuck buddies that their present is ready and that more the merrier. I get to our neighborhood and go between some houses and sit in the wooded lot across the street from my parents house. I see two cars pull up to the house and recognize the three men that get out from a couple of BBRT parties I've been to. Jake opens the front door in his school uniform and looks around to see if any neighbors are out. He quickly ushers the men inside. 15 minutes later 6 motorcycles, chopper style, pull up to the house. One of the riders gets off his bike and takes a photo of the house. I get a text a few second's later. "This the place?" with pic of our house. "It is. Front door should be unlocked, but if not, the door on the side of the garage is open. He doesn't know that I left it that way for you. Hope your friends enjoy fucking my brother! There are a couple of guys Paul sent already in there." "Perfect. I'll make sure the front door is left open for my guys. We owe you." "No this is a gift. Remember, he invited you all." He signals to the other riders and they wait at the front door as he goes in the side and opens the front door. They all head in and leave the front door open. Over then next hour, 8 more guys show up. A couple my age, but most of them are older. Half of them look rather wasted clearly beyond just HIV. 30 minutes later, and right on time I see my mom's van pull up in front of the house and park in the road, unable to get into the driveway. My parents exit the car, and look rather confused. I pull my hoodie up over my head and kneel behind the shrubs making sure they can't see me should they look around. They make their way inside the house. I quickly turn my phone off. A minute later I hear my mom scream and run out the front door into her van. My dad is not far behind her, white as a ghost. It takes them a few minutes, but they tear out of the neighborhood. I sneak through the woods and back over to the mall. I grab a bite to eat and grab my car and head off to school.

Finally Dave was released and the fingers extracted from his now stretched hole. A moan escaped his lips as he looked at the face looking back at him. Tommo was hungry for the you man now. He'd toyed with him, got him in the mood and it was time. Moving carefully but quickly he lifted Dave and adjusted his own position so that the younger man was lowered directly onto Tommo's waiting cock. At this stage he was so rigid and slick, from the combination of precum and sweat, he entered Dave with ease. Dave's eyes quickly rolled to the back of his head as he threw his face into Tommo's neck, slowly nuzzling it to stop himself screaming. "That's it buddy, just relax" Tommo purred into Dave's ear as he began to move hips up and down slowly. Both men were lost in pleasure, Tommo could feel Dave's hole gripping his shaft tightly as he entered. He knew that the lad was still new to being fucked and wanted to ensure it was as good for both men. "Mmmm that's it Davey boy, you have some hole on you, you're such a fuckin' ride", Tommo couldn't help but be verbal, he was loving being inside the young rugger. Bit by bit Dave relaxed allowing more and more of Tommo's cock to go into him before he fully got through Dave's inner ring and bottoming out. Dave moaned into the older man's neck as the mix of discomfort and pleasure surged through his body. He was becoming more and more accustomed to bottoming, appreciating the feeling of having a thick cock filling his almost virgin hole. Tommo could feel it too and smiled to himself, "Now" he thought, "It's go time!" Tommo began thrusting with increasing speed as he held on to Dave, his hands firmly on Dave's hips moving back and forth to this thighs. He ensured Dave's cock got attention too, got to keep him in the mood, edging him using his belly to stimulate the younger lad's penis. As he got into his groove Tommo started to really pick up the pace. By now the previous silence was replaced with Dave's groans as Tommo's cock squelched in and out in rapid succession. The spit, lube, cum and sweat of the night had built up to form a liquid that allowed smooth thrusts to be unimpeded into Dave's anal cavity. Both men could feel the height as their need to shoot was overwhelming. "God Dave...you..are..such a good fuck" Tommo was barely able to string a sentence together due to the physical exertion he was under.

Sorry for the delay - here is the continuation of “ Selling my Status” Chapter 2: The Long Week The next seven days were the longest of my life. It was a bizarre purgatory, suspended between my old self and the new one I had so recklessly, chemically agreed to become. The morning after my visit to Matt’s, I woke up with a crushing headache and a dry, chemical taste in my mouth. The memories of the night flooded back in a nauseating wave: the smoke, the commands, the camera’s unblinking eye, the toilet swirling with my future. A sharp, cold panic seized me. What had I done? I scrambled for my phone, my fingers trembling as I opened my banking app. The rational part of my brain, the part that was screaming, knew it was a scam. There would be no money. I had just thrown away my health for a drug-fueled fantasy and a promise from a stranger. But the balance was there. Not the $50,000, but a pending wire transfer for $10,000. A subject line: Good faith. Don’t disappoint me. The panic didn't vanish, but it mutated. It was now tangled with a terrifying, thrilling sense of commitment. It was real. The money was real. He was real. The days that followed were a study in cognitive dissonance. By daylight, I was a normal guy. I went to work at my bland office job, answered emails, attended meetings. I was quiet, withdrawn. My colleagues must have thought I was coming down with something. In a way, I was. I was incubating. But inside, a constant, low hum of anxiety and… anticipation… thrummed through me. Every time my phone buzzed, my heart leapt into my throat. It was never him. He was silent, letting the tension build. He owned the silence as much as he owned the promise. My body felt different. Without the daily ritual of the blue pill, I felt raw, exposed, vulnerable. I’d catch myself staring into space, imagining what it would feel like. The conversion. The moment of transmission. The thought should have horrified me. And it did. But late at night, alone in my bed, it was the only thing that could bring me to a shuddering, shame-filled climax. I was becoming the character I’d played for his camera. On the fifth day, a package arrived at my door. No return address. Inside was a single, small box of a popular brand of protein bars. Taped to the inside of the lid was a negative test result. His. Recent. And a note, scrawled on thick, expensive cardstock: *Getting everything ready for you. Be clean. Be ready. *- M* The message was clear. The transaction was proceeding. He was confirming his own status to assure the "purity" of the product. I was the product. The finality of it, the clinical coldness mixed with the dark intimacy, left me breathless. I slid to the floor, the test result in my hand, and cried. I wasn't sure if they were tears of fear or of relief.

Got my first fuck of the new school year now that the college bois are back. As usual I try to find guys who ID as curious or "straight" because I can always turn at least of few of them into long term fuck buddies. Friday wasn't looking very promising, but around 11PM I got hit up by a guy who just wanted to chat, but he was decent looking enough so I figured I might get lucky. After about half an hour I was getting bored and asked him if he'd like to come over and mess around. He didn't respond so I left it open, but decided to watch some TV and see if anyone not a bot hit me up. He finally responded about midnight or so and said he'd come over, but didn't know what he'd wanted to do. I give him my address and told him to come right over. He showed up about 20 minutes later. I got the feeling I couldn't push him hard or he'd leave, so we just chatted for a while, and finally got to the subject as to why he came over. He said he has been interested in guys for a while after watching gay porn, but couldn't do anything while still living at home (if I had a $ for every guy who has had that problem, I'd be rich), other than he and a buddy jerked off together and did some touching. I told him I'd be happy to do anything with him he wanted to try, and invited him to the shower. Got to the bathroom and we got naked. I wasn't expecting him to be well hung, but he was with a rather large mushroom head to boot and nice big balls to go with it. Cute little hairy ass to top it all off. Got in the shower and started messing around a little. Started running my hands all over his body and stroking his cock. I could tell he was nervous, but slowly he started getting hard. Rubbing my cock with his got him to full attention. I knelt down and asked if I could suck him and he shook his head. Taking that sweet 18yo cock in my mouth was so hot, especially knowing it most likely was the first blowjob from another guy. After driving him crazy for a while, we cleaned up and headed to the bedroom. I asked him if he'd like to try sucking my cock, and he said he would. Let's just say he was not very good at it, and I'm going to have to spend a lot of time turning him into a good cocksucker. But that was okay because my daddy cock was the first cock he had ever put in that teenage mouth of his. Finally decided to see how far he'd go so asked him if he'd like to fuck. He hesitated so I had to sweet talk him a bit by stroking his cock and telling him how much I want him inside me. It eventually worked and I got the lube from the nightstand. Asked him what position he wanted to try first (I've found always let the newbie make the decisions if he's hesitant) and he said doggie style so he could see his cock sliding inside like he saw in his first gay porn vid. I lubed his cock and my ass and put it into the air for him to enjoy. He spent a minute looking and rubbing my hole, but he finally gave into the urges and I felt that cock push against my hole and start sliding inside. He was so big and hard that it was pure bliss for me as he filled my ass to the hilt. Soon he had a decent rhythm going. I let him do that for a while, but finally told him I had to ride that cock. He sat down on the bed and I slid down on him. I don't think he realized how good it feels to have a nice ass riding your cock, but from his facial expressions, he was in heaven. He managed to get out "I'm gonna cum" but I just kept riding until he blew his load inside me. When he finally came back to reality, he had this rather satisfied look on his face. I kept slowing riding him to keep him hard and told him he had another round to go. Once he was rock hard again, I got off of him and sucked that cum covered dick. He was finally letting go and just enjoying himself. He fucked me missionary style and then mounted me and fucked another load into me. I needed to blow a load badly, but first wanted to try to see if I could rim him. He said sure and let me eat his ass, which I could tell he loved. I so badly wanted to just shove it into him, but wasn't willing to bottom this time, so I asked if I could slid my cock up and down his ass. He agreed as long as I didn't put it inside him. The dirty thoughts I had as my dick slide up and down his ass and my cockhead rubbed his hole. I even pushed slightly against his hole to see how he's respond, but he didn't pull away or protest. I eventually blew my load on his back and ass. We cleaned up and I asked him if he wanted to come back another time because I enjoyed fucking with him. He said he would, and I told him next time I'd love to fuck him too. He said he'll think about it. I am certain I will be giving him his first cum injection the next time he's here. Almost never had a freshman over who didn't end up taking my cock and cum deep inside him.

Last night i sucked off a married migrant worker from grinder In a pitch black farm storage building. Met him a little ways down from where he’s staying. Saw him on the side of the road and followed his figure into a dark dirty building. He pushed me to my knees and took out his cock. Not very big. But it was rock hard. He grabbed my head and pounded his cock into the back of my mouth, held me in place as he fucked my mouth. Spent half an hour swapping between making out and having my throat assaulted by his cock. When he finally came he pushed my head down as far as he could and shot his load down my throat. Held me there until I had to push his off, zipped up and walked away.

My Boy Drew’s dad walked in on us when I was sitting back on the couch and Drew was between my legs sucking my cock. he couldn’t have picked a better time. I was close and I grunted “I’m cumming son, swallow my fukkin load” I shot my load in Drew’s mouth as his dad looked on.

Cheat on my husband in public all the time. Mostly suck cocks and get guys off, SOMETIMES I'll top in public (I'd love to be more of a bottom this decade), when I get home I'm horny as fuck and usually pound my husband real good still smelling like rough trade.

@chainsmokerpig No problem. Glad you enjoyed it! @nymidtowneast Hope the next chapter is just as enjoyable! @SirGalatsi Thanks! @kitpig No comment. Not giving any spoilers! @Medwaym I appreciate to kind words. Glad you're enjoying it! Next chapter has been sitting on my desk for a few days now, and trying to get the next several written out so I can keep posting regularly. Also have an idea bouncing around on top of what I'm working on in secret, so stay turned! ------------------------------------------------------------ Lesson 10- Secrets for Profiting in Bull and Bear Markets Part of me felt a tinge of nervousness as the thought of someone seeing us went through my mind. It was then I remembered Greg telling me that nobody would see us through the dark tint of the car windows. Feeling a bit more reassured, I got to work. Slowly, I stroked Greg’s massive cock as he drove, the soft sounds of pop and club music playing on the radio as we rode in silence. After a bit, I slowly worked my way down to Greg’s balls, squeezing and gently fondling them, enjoying the feeling of the heavy orbs moving around in the loose sack of skin. After a few minutes, I got a sinister idea and slowly worked the upper part of my seatbelt off, before bending over and taking Greg’s cock into my mouth. “Fuck yeah boy,” Greg groaned around the still unlit cigar in his mouth, as he slowly moved his right hand on top of my head, running his fingers slowly through my hair. I slowly worked the large cock down my throat, surprised at the near ease I was taking it. Part of me realized that I’d been sucking cocks now for over a week now, and that I had gone from barely able to fit half the cock to feeling it hit the back of my throat with nearly no gagging. “That’s it, baby, worship the cock that’s going to change you,” Greg whispered as he continued to slowly stroke the top of my head, “I’m not ready to cum just yet, but you’re doing a good job keeping daddy hard. Just a little longer and we’ll be at our next stop.” I gave a slight nod, as I slowly began to work the tip of my tongue around the head, swirling it around several times, making Greg moan more. After several minutes, Greg pulled my head off, as the vehicle softly stopped. Sitting at the stop light, Greg took the cigar out of his mouth and pulled back slightly on my hair, his right hand still buried in my hair. Taking it as a sign to open my mouth, having had both the men do it to me, I complied. Greg spit a large glob of spit into my mouth, smiling as I instinctively swallowed. “Goooood boy, swallow all of daddy’s spit,” Greg said, smiling, as he turned his attention back to the road, the light now turning green, “You love pleasing daddy, don’t you boy?” “Yes sir,” I said softly, “I love making you happy.” Nodding, Greg released my hair, letting me slump back slightly in the leather seat. “You’re getting really good at making Daddy’s cock happy with that dirty fucking mouth,” Greg said, sticking the cigar back in his mouth as he turned his attention back to the road, “We’re only a block away, so I guess you earned another treat from Daddy.” I looked around, noticing we were in a part of town I couldn’t really say I had been to before. Around us were a ton of shorter brick buildings, denoting a much older and established part of town. Most of the shop seemed well kept, advertising their various wares; one window displaying a bunch of reclaimed clothing, another some sidewalk cafe. Crossing a major thoroughfare, the buildings gave way to bars and other various shops. Greg silently turned down an alleyway, before parking the SUV behind one of the brick buildings. “We’re here,” Greg said, unceremoniously as he opened the door and stepped out. I followed suit, getting hit with a wave of hot, humid air as the buzz of countless air conditioners whirred away. Waving me over, we walked up to one of the buildings, as Greg pressed the buzzer beside the door. We waited a short time before the door opened and a tall, lanky man greeted us. The man’s hair was buzzed to almost bald, his body covered in tattoos and multiple piercings. “‘Bout time you got here,” the man said, motioning for us to enter. Greg led the way and I silently followed, happy to be out of the stifling heat and in the slightly cool air of the dark hallway. The air still had a slightly muggy quality to it, likely due to the age of the building I guessed as I looked around, my eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light. It also carried a faint smell of smoke and antiseptic, barely registrable to my nose. Exposed brick lined the exterior walls, with simple dark grey walls and two separate cheap looking plain wood doors. The muted sound of what sounded like rock or metal come from behind the farther door, and the walls had several portraits of artwork. As Greg gave the man a brief half hug, I looked at some of the artwork. A huge, extremely colorful butterfly filled the canvas of one, a snake on another. Various roses and portraits of people. Finally my eyes landed on one in particular, a rather demonic looking skull, smoke drifting out of its mouth with glowing red eyes. The sound of buzzing came from beyond the door, and I instantly I knew we were now standing in the back of a tattoo parlor. “Yeah, he almost made cream on the way here,” Greg chuckled, his hand protectively wrapping around my shoulders as his hand draped over one. “Hmm… so this is the new project Ben was going on about earlier,” the man said, eyeing me up and critically, “Not exactly stunning, and definitely not what I would have expected. Especially from you two. What happened to that one guy a while back? He was quite the looker.” I felt somewhat self conscious, my mind going back immediately to my conversation in the car with Greg. Looking down, I felt small as I stood there silently now looking at the floor, quickly beginning to feel deflated. An icy pit in my stomach began to form, as the man had clearly just said what I had been think just a short while earlier. “When have you ever known Ben of all people to exaggerate,” Greg replied, slowly moving his hand to the back of my neck, rubbing his thumb along a certain spot, making me shudder at how good it felt, “Riley here is going to surprise you, man. Sexy little fucker and we couldn’t be prouder at how fast he’s coming along. Just trust me, Garrison, this pig will be milking a load out of both of you in no time.” Something in me warmed slightly, hearing Greg defend me. I unconsciously leaned into the sensation of Greg rubbing the nape of my neck. Garrison looked at me flatly, still eyeing me up and down. “I’ll be the judge of that,” he said flatly, before waving me towards door, “C’mon, Jay is already setting up the tray and is wanting to see what the hype is about. I’ll take you over and we can go over some of the designs.” Greg continued to rub my neck in the same spot, making me melt on the spot as he slowly worked it. Bending over slightly, he began to whisper in my ear. “Don't pay him any mind. Did you like Daddy touching you on your neck?” Greg whispered, kissing the spot before he continued to speak, my legs buckling just slightly as he did, “Looks like I found a spot to make your boy hole melt. I’ll have to let Daddy Mike know too. Make your brain melt and get you all worked up.” I shuddered and wordlessly nodded, fighting the urge to moan. I didn’t want to embarrass Greg by losing my mind over such an inconsequential spot on my neck being touched. “Honestly, though, don’t worry about Gary,” Greg said, continuing work the spot, “He’s a prickly bastard on a good day. Great fuck though. You have no idea how hot you are, boy. Just be the sexy fucking pig you are and he’ll warm up.” Greg then gently pushed me forward, his hand slowly tracing down my back before patting my ass as we followed behind Garrison, entering a long room lined with padded leather chairs all in several different shapes along one wall. Finally we stopped at the end and Greg gestured for me to sit down. Sitting at the station was a skinny guy with tons of piercings and a bright neon green mohawk. He jumped up and gave Greg a huge hug, smiling as he looked over at me. “Ah, is this the notorious Riley I heard all about,” the mohawk guy said, turning and taking a hard look at me, “Not your usual affair, but… I like it. Nice clean canvas, I hope?” “Riley, this is Jason. Jason… Riley,” Greg said, pointing between the two of us with a smile. Suddenly, Jason reached down and gave my groin a squeeze. I was shocked at first at the sudden intrusion, only calming slightly as Greg let out a slight chuckle. “Fuck, got the pig in a nice tight cage already,” Jason said appreciatively, hefting the heavy metal cage as if weighing it before moving down the my balls, the skin loose from the heat outside earlier. “Yeah, pig here was naughty the other night and needed punished,” Greg said, procuring the lighter in his pock and pulling the cigar out of his mouth. Slowly, he lit the cigar and puffed it to life. I stared almost hungrily at it, feeling a craving for one myself, “Was at the park and playing without knowing the rules.” “Wait… this is the…. No….” Jason said, releasing my balls before working around to my ass, giving it a tight squeeze before feeling the base of the plug in my ass. Giving a nod and a smile, he gave my ass a slight smack, “He’s that guy from the park? Brad says he fucking cums buckets.” I blushed, suddenly realizing they knew about the smokey blowjob I had given and received in the park before. “I heard he’s a fucking sexy little shit when he’s smoking,” Jason continued, reaching over to the table behind him, grabbing a pack of cigarettes and expertly pulling one out and lighting it up, inhaling hard before exhaling towards me, “Mind if he puts on a show for me while we get to work?” Greg nodded at me, as he reached into his pocket, pulling out his key to the SUV, handing it to me. “Go get one of the gifts your Uncle Ben gave you,” Greg said, smiling around the cigar, “Take your time and pick out a good choice to show Jason. I want you inhaling it if you can.” Slowly, I nodded, taking the key and walked back to the back hallway and out the door. Making my way to the trunk area, I opened it and began to look through the large brown bag. A large, glass topped chest was sitting in it, filled with various shapes and sizes of cigars, as well as a few smaller leather pouches and a metal tool and cigar cutter. Beside it, several pipes sat in the bottom of various sizes and shapes as well as few different lighters. It all felt overwhelming in a way, and with as expensive as they looked, I figured there had to be well over a thousand dollars worth of things in the bag. Again, I felt self conscious, feeling as though this wads entirely too much I frowned and looked down at all the things. Suddenly, I jumped as I head Garrison speak, having missed him stepping out the door, smoking and looking at his phone. “Go with the larger sized one. The darker, the better…” he said, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he spoke, “If you have a really big one with a green stripe, it’ll drive Jason wild.” “Oh… uh…. Thanks…” I said, softly, not wanting to make eye contact, my thoughts going immediately back to his previous comments. “So… sorry about earlier,” Garrison said, taking a deep drag as he spoke, “Had a really shitty customer throwing a fit right before you came in. Took it out on you, and you didn’t deserve it.” “Its ok…” I said quietly, still not wanting to make eye contact, “I’m fine.” “Eh, not really,” he replied, taking another drag as he continued speaking, “I was an ass. Greg told me that you feel pretty insecure about your looks. Just know, Greg and Mike are very particular and don’t just chase random ass. If they chose you, that means you have nothing to worry about in the looks department.” “I…. Um.. Thanks…” I said, finally looking up a little and meeting his gaze, “I… I don’t know if I see what they do, but thanks for letting me know. And sorry you had a shitty customer.” Finishing the cigarette, Garrison tossed it down the alley before giving me a slight nod. “See you in there,” he said flatly, before walking away, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him. Quickly, I got the cigar he described cut and pocketed the lighter, putting the cigar in my mouth as I had seen Greg do earlier. Walking back in, I shut the door behind me, forcing myself to walk confidently back in as I walked over to the station and sat down. “Fuckin’ hell man, now that’s a cigar,” Jason said, smiling at me, “Go ahead and pull that shirt off so we can get started.” I quietly complied, pulling the tight black shirt off and setting it neatly across my legs, leaning back, unsure what would happen next. I looked over at Greg, who only smiled. “Jason here is going to pierce those sexy nipples of yours,” Greg said, puffing happily on his cigar, “And since you were a good boy and made me happy on the way here, you can get one more piercing today of your choice.” I sat for a second, thinking about his words, unsure what to do or say. Finally, I looked at Greg. “What do you think I should get, sir?” I asked, hoping that asking him would get a happy response, “What would make you and Daddy Mike happy?” “Fucking sexy little slave there, Greg,” Jason said, laughing at my response, “Can’t believe he’s so polite and obedient!” “Hmmm…” Greg said, smiling widely, clearly satisfied with my answer, “Hot little pig like you? What do you think, Jason… would the pig look hot with a septum piercing?” “Fuck yeah, definitely would show the world what a fucking piggy he is,” Jason said, grinning as well, “Could start small so he can hide it after you send his cum flooded ass back home to mommy.” “Sold,” he said, before pointing at me, “Now go ahead and show Jason how much you love smoking for your daddies.” I nodded again, happily taking the cigar and toasting it like they did, before putting it in my mouth and beginning to puff greedily on it. Thinking back to Garrison’s words, I took a deep inhale and held it in for a moment, fighting the urge to cough from the shocking amount of smoke. Finally I lazily let the smoke drift out of my mouth, letting the smoke out through my nose. “Fuckin’ holy shit man,” Jason said, his hand rubbing his cock through his jeans as he watched me smoke, “Didn’t you say this pig just started this month? He’s fucking flooding those lungs like a pro!” “I told you, boy aims to please,” Greg said, smiling happily at me. “No joke,” Jason said, appreciatively as he lit up another cigarette, “You ready to look the part, bud?” I nodded, watching as he slowly loaded up a piercing into the gun looking contraption. I puffed somewhat nervously as he began to pinch the nipple, wiping it down with an ample amount of antiseptic before letting it evaporate in the cool air, getting it hard. It was still slightly sensitive from the earlier working over from Ben and quickly perked up. “Ready,” he said, looking up at me for a moment, the clamp firmly pinching my nipple, “Breath in, and slowly let it out…” I took a deep draw off the cigar, slowly blowing it out as I felt the needle pierce my skin, the brief sharp pain making the muscles on my pec jump slightly as it was quickly replaced with a slightly warm and throbbing sensation, eventually giving way to a slight stinging sensation. “Good job, stay still just like that while I get the next one ready,” Jason said, giving my shoulder a slight pat. He repeated the same movements as before, this time going easier as I know knew what to expect. Pulling out his phone, Greg took a picture, the sound of a whoosh accompanying shortly after. “Got to show Daddy Mike,” Greg explained, before walking over to the tray and picking out another piercing with Jason to my side. “Fuck man, that is going to look hot on him,” Jason said, looking at what Greg had chosen, “Might hurt a tiny bit more with that gauge, but I think he’ll do fine.” Turning around, he loaded up the next piercing and tipping my head back, his gloved hand firmly holding my jaw. “This one might sting a bit more, but you’re going to fuckin’ love it, big boy,” Jason said, smiling as the device quickly began to pinch the skin between my nostrils. I felt the pain more, causing my eyes to tear up slightly as Jason released my head. I went to reach up and touch it when he smacked my hand away. “Unh-uh… don’t touch it until it heals,” he said, before looking over at Greg, “Want to get a picture before I move it up and out of the way?” Greg nodded, taking another picture before sending it off and putting his phone back in his pocket. Holing a mirror in front of me, Jason showed me his work. I had to admit, there was something more punk-ish and hot about the piercing. Greg looked down around me, smiling happily. “Looks good on you boy,” Greg said, “Going to look even hotter when we can replace that temp with a bigger one. You should show Jason here how much you appreciate his work.” Almost as if Greg had commanded him instead of me, Jason puled the cigar out of my mouth and set in an ashtray beside him, before taking a deep drag on the cigarette and locking lips with me, feeding me his smoke as we made out. Slowly I let the smoke drift out of my nose as the slightly older man began to rub his tongue along mine. I could feel a metal arm in the center, and he broke away, taking another deep drag before returning for more. I felt Greg begin to pet my hair, growling in appreciating as I began to get worked up. Suddenly, I could hear a buzzing noise as Greg pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Shit, got to take this,” Greg said, as we both broke away and looked over at him, “Work call. Keep me proud of you, boy.” With that, he walked quickly out the back, and I could hear the sound of the back door closing, reverberating out of the dim hallway. “Fuck you look so fucking hot,” Jason said, running his hand down my somewhat muscular and hairless torso, “I can’t fucking wait to sample that hole of yours and see what’s got everyone worked up.” Slowly, I laid back and watched as Jason stripped out of his black cargo shorts, revealing a dirty grey jock and what looked to be a decent sized cock. Quickly, he reached down and pulled my pants down and off, and looked evilly at my naked body while chuckling darkly as he ran his hands on the cock cage. “Fucking locked up like a good little pussy boy,” he said, drawing hard on the cigarette, blowing it down and over my body. Pushing my legs up, he looked down at my currently plugged hole, giving it a slight tug as he used one hand to hold my legs up. Roughly, he pulled the plug out, my hole suddenly gaping at the sudden loss as I felt a line of cum slowly drool out. “Mmmm… Ben fucking wrecked your hole and bred it good,” he said, flopping the cum glazed plug flippantly on my chest, “Nothing tastier than a freshly loaded hole.” Suddenly, he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, before diving face first into my ass, licking and sucking on my asshole, causing me to moan at the sensation. I groaned as he went to work, fully servicing my hole, sucking the several loads out before coming back up, using his still rubber gloved hand to open my mouth. I complied and he slowly drooled the cum out of his mouth and into mine. This happened several times, each time less cum was deposited back into my mouth. Letting out an evil chuckle, he slowly began to work a few gloved fingers into my loose hole, finding the spot inside my ass and causing my breath to hitch. “Yeah, there’s the slut button,” he said, pulling his fingers out and smearing them on my chest, before pulling his shirt off, revealing dozens of tattoos. One in particular caught my eye, of a pitch black scorpion with red streaks on its body. I recognized for what it was, as he saw me staring at it. “Yeah, I’m toxic too,” he said, tossing the shirt to the ground before plunging the gloved fingers inside me, and rubbing harder on my prostate, “We got lots of time to breed you full of my swimmers. He won’t be back for a while.” I sobbed slightly, squirming at the rough handling as my cock began to leak again in the cage. “Yeah, this hole is in fucking heat. I think its time I give you another load deep in those guts,” he said, rubbing his large cock on my hole, the metal piercing in the tip sliding easily on my slick hole, “Plenty of room in here now to add mine to the mix.” As willing as I was to just let him have at it, I thought back to what Greg had told me earlier. “I…. Need you to… stop...” I gasped out, “Please… I need. I need a-a condom…” “Fuck, boy, what a mood killer,” he said, continuing to slowly run the tip of his cock around my hole in slow circles, “You already took plenty of tainted sperm in you already. What’s one more load?” I slowly shook my head no. “I… I promised,” I said, pushing my hand against his chest, holding him away, “I promised I would follow the rules.” “We’re friends, so I know he won’t mind,” Jason said, playfully shaking his dick at my hole, the metal piercing occasionally brushing against it even being held back, “I already ate their loads out of you so we’ll need to fill that back up for you to get knocked up. Besides, what they don’t know won’t hurt ‘em.” “No… you need to use the condom,” I insisted, slowly pulling myself up, skin sticking to the leather on the seat, “They want me to save it for something they have planned, but I’m not allowed unless they say you can.” “Seems like a waste to me… you know how good it feels getting bred with dirty loads, ” Jason frowned, rubbing a hand along my body, “ Seems unfair to me they won’t let you decide who’s load to take. And we both know it will feel a lot better bare.” “I promised,” I said, shaking my head, knowing that if I were to give in, I’d never be able to live with the lie, “It’s either that or nothing. I… I’ll suck you off if you want, so that you at least get something out of your work.” “Hmmm…. Fuuuuck… Fine…” he said, pouting, before grabbing a condom out of his pants, “Don’t think I’m going to hold back on you now.” I slumped back, actually proud of myself for keeping a clear enough head and following the rules, even if Greg and Mike weren’t there to see it. I watched as Jason, looking annoyed, slid the bright blue condom down his dick, before sliding deep in my ass. Clamping down, I tried to make myself feel tight, hoping it would make up for the condition I put on him. “Fuck yeah, that’s a hungry boy pussy there,” he growled, before pushing forward and pulling the metal table closer, “Since I can’t fuck it bare, we’re at least going to make it interesting for me.” Grabbing my cigar, he stuck it in his mouth and lit it back up, puffing hard as he slammed as hard as he could into my ass, brutally boring into my ass. Keeping his thrusting steady, he let my legs fall to his shoulders ad he reached over and pulled out a cigarette from his pack, bluntly sticking it in my mouth. “I want to see you smoking some Reds, fucker,” he said, stopping suddenly as he grabbed the lighter and flicking it to life, holding the flame to the tip. Following what I had seen earlier, I took a deep draw on it before sucking in the smoke. The taste was definitely different than the cigars and even the pipes, and I let out a hard nose jet, getting a smile and nod from Jason. “Yeah slut,” he said, grabbing my ass hard as he fucked it, “Suck that cancer stick down. Destroy those lungs for me.” Hoping to please, I continued to smoke hard, making quick work of the cigarette before another was put in, as Jason continued his eager assault on my hole. “Fuck, I’m gonna shoot in your worthless ass,” he said, “Fucking take my cock snot fucker!” He slammed just a few more times before pulling me tightly against him. I could numbly feel as his cock flooded the condom, jumping and jolting as he glared at me. “Yeah boy, feel all that man spunk? Could have fucking flooded those guts right if you’d have let me… fucking cock tease only taking certain dirty loads,” he said, squeezing my ass in a death grip and he continued to slam hard inside me, “Gonna fucking breed this hole and add my strain eventually. You want that, don’t you fucker? To become a diseased whore?” I nodded, feeling spent and exhausted as Jason finally pulled out, gently pulling the condom off his sensitive cock before tying it off and dumping it on my chest. “Yeah, take that doggy bag home for you and your daddies to play with,” he said, breathless as he got up and pulled his pants on, puffing away at the well smoked cigar., "Better fucking fish that Red I gave you." After a few more minutes, laying there on the bed and watching as Jason leaned back in his office chair enjoying the cigar, Greg returned with a questioning look on his face. Getting up, Jason walked over and reached into his pants, pulling out several dollar bills. “You fucking cheated,” Jason said, still breathless as he patted Greg on the shoulder before handing over the money. “How so?” Greg asked, grinning at him before looking back at me, “I’m taking it from the bulging condom on the boy’s chest, he followed the rules and made you wrap it up?” I felt shock and then relief, knowing that this had been a test, and I seemed to have passed it overwhelmingly. Greg picked up the used condom from my chest, giving a smile as he turned it around, inspecting it. “Tried every fucking trick I knew, man,” he said, smiling at me still exhausted, “Not fucking fair coming in here with a professionally trained pig like that. Even smoked down a few Reds like a champ.” Greg gave me a smile before looked at Jason with a more confused smile. “I mean, I’ll take the compliment, but he’s not even remotely trained,” Greg said, rubbing his hand through my hair, “Only been teaching him for a week and a half or so, honest.” “Fucking liar…” Jason said, grinning, “That heavenly fucking ass is way too talented. His hole hugs your cock like memory foam, fucking milks it even. If I hadn’t have heard it from Ben myself, I’d have never believed that he was bred with that massive cock just a while ago. Shit should be fucking wrecked.” “Honest to god,” Greg said, raising his hands in defense, “I told you he is eager to please. Between that, his dirty little pig mouth, and that cute innocent look, can’t you see why Mike and I took such a liking to him?” “Please tell me he’s got a brother or something…” Jason said, shaking his head and smiling. “Nope. Back off,” Greg said, holding his finger up to stop Jason’s line of thought, “The brother is off limits… Mike hates mixing business with pleasure, you know that.” Still feeling spent, I just sat silently and watched the exchange, knowing they were talking about me and my older brother. “Fuck… had to try and ask at least,” Jason said, shaking his head, “Damn… Gary is going to LOVE this…” “What am I supposedly going to love,” Garrison said, walking in from the back doorway and sitting down at a station, laying out several things. “Gary… bro… just… oh my god…” Jason said, smiling and pointing at me, “Fucking heaven. Seriously.” “You, over here,” Gary said, snapping once and pointing to the chair, “I got appointments in a half an hour. Leave the shirt off. Let’s get this done.” I nodded silently, picking up my clothes and quickly getting my pants back on and grabbing the full condom, plug, and my shirt. I sat down silently, watching as Garrison expertly began to wipe down my skin on my smooth stomach before placing down a sheet, the design underneath hard to see. “Like the placement?” He asked Greg, looking up. “Should be good,” Greg replied, nodding, “We can always move it down the road if we don’t like it.” Pressing down, Garrison slowly taped down the sticker, the blue/green ink just barely visible, Looking down, I could see what looked like a pig snout and the words “PIG IN TRAINING” written in bold letters in circle around it. “Take this off in an hour. Not any less. Should last about 10 days, depending on activity,” he explained, short and to the point, “Don’t use any abrasives or body scrubs, or you’ll be replacing it sooner. It’ll get darker in about 24 hours. Understood?” I nodded silently. “Ok, flip over for the other one,” he said, motioning his finger in a circle, “And pull down your pants.” I followed his instructions, as I looked back, seeing him shine a light through. “Go ahead and make sure it scans,” Garrison said, waiting as Greg took out his phone and aimed it at what looked like a QR code. “Yep, like a dream,” Greg said, giving a thumbs up as Garrison then began to wipe down the skin and place the sheet down firmly in the center of my asscheek. He did the same thing again, pressing down and taping the paper down. “Alright, get out of here,” Garrison said, giving my ass a smack, “Trying to run a business here, and its time to open back up.” “Sure you don’t want to give Riley’s hole a try?” Greg said, grinning as I felt my hole pucker. Though I didn’t want to admit it, I needed a slight break after the brutal pounding from Jason. “Am I allowed to dump my load in him raw?” Garrison said flatly. “Sorry, you know the rules,” Greg said, smiling and shaking his head. “Then I’m good. Unlike my twin brother here, I know how to wait,” Garrison said, looking over at Jason, “And unlike him, I know when to turn down a bet from you. Stop fleecing my employees and get out of here.” Part of me was shocked. With as different as the two looked, I’d have never guessed they were twins. Looking closer though, I did notice a family resemblance. I mouthed a silent thank you at Garrison as I walked past, actually getting a small smirk and nod. Stepping back out into the sun, I blinked blearily, shading my face at the still intense sunlight as we made our way to the car, already on and air condition running full blast.

ASSMUNCH No rest for the weary, as Grandma would say. Well, someone’s Grandma would say that, not mine. My Grandma would probably be overjoyed at being stuck in some rustic locale surrounded by dangerous, serious fit men. Grandma was probably what they used to call a ‘wild woman’. I snorted. These were the sorts of things that popped into my head for no reason, mostly during The Suck. “Focus, Private.” Yeah yeah. 38 hours without sleep. Which usually wasn’t a problem, except there was no physical activity to keep me alert. My brain was skittering off in any direction it wanted. See, that was the danger, and the challenge of life in the Infantry. The first dive back into The Suck meant you had to remind yourself of all the lessons all over again. Eventually it would become second nature, but for now I had to reinforce my intent, sharpen my focus, and smack down any stray thought that wasn’t primary. The Suck, the monotonous drag of 20 hours of patrol for days at a time, encampment, perimeter and sentry shifts, a maximum of two hours of sleep if you were lucky, drills, 15 minute meal breaks, squat or maybe flop breaks if you were, again, lucky. Your mental and physical condition deteriorated by the hour until you were just a stumbling zombie with one thought - forward. Followed by the second thought - ambush. You wanted to rest, but knew it wouldn’t be long enough or deep enough to make a difference, and would only make you want to cry when you realized you’d just have to climb back on your feet for another march. Objective. Target. 3rd thought, but rare. Honestly, you stopped caring and knew hoping for it just forced it further away. If you reached your Objective, found your target that was all well and good. But that wasn’t your GOAL. No. Deep in The Suck, your only goal was staying on your feet, and forward. And don’t get deaded. Yeah, deaded isn’t a word, but it’s a fun way to say shot, blown up, bled out, fucked up, erased, cancelled and about fifty other words we liked to use for going home in a bag. See? Infantry can be fun. It’s a fucking laugh a minute. “Private! Focus! You goon out on me and we’ll go another 40 hours.” Which made me laugh. “Fuck. Sorry.” I said. I really was. This was unprofessional. Private Goon needed to fucking pull it together. “Where were we?” I asked politely. I tried to flex my numb arms for the 20th time since being tied to the chair. Mission Fail. No flex. I repeat, No Flex. “Your men. You were providing me with a list of their skills, abilities, weaknesses.” the man in the shadows said. “I was?” I said, puzzled. “I thought I was in the middle of telling you about the night I fucked your mom in every hole.” I looked down. “Maybe that was the other guy. You all look alike.” I took a moment to think. “No, it was your sister, that’s right.” I knew it was coming. It didn’t help. I bounced off the concrete after his boot slammed into my chest. Trapped by the ropes and the chair I had no control over my momentum. I had a brief, proud moment that I kept my head from bouncing. Protect the ole helmet, grunt. I made a mental double tap against my skull with imaginary knuckles. That made me laugh, while gasping against my deflated lungs. I was seriously a hilarious grunt. Oh, The Suck has at least one benefit, and that was you just don’t have the energy for pain. Yeah, that’s right, you get tired enough and you get hurt, your brain just shrugs. And let me tell you, if you’re paying attention, you recognize that pain can be ignored. Oh it’s still there, but it’s far away, doesn’t matter, and you can even make it not exist at all. And right now I just couldn’t give a fuck. It wasn’t the first time I’d been treated like a soccer ball in the last couple hours. Or six. Hell, it could have been days. Nah, I wasn’t that far gone yet. Just hours. Maybe. He let me giggle like an idiot for a minute before yanking me and the chair up to vertical once again. Then he went to the door and knocked. The door opened and another man came in carrying a bowl of something and a large pitcher of some liquid. Oh yeah, meal time. God, it smelled so good. And seeing the pitcher I realized how thirsty I was. “I know what you’re thinking, Private.” He said conversationally. “You’re thinking I can’t actually kill you, or injure you, or torture you to get the info I need.” He took the bowl and pitcher from the other guy and put it on the table before dragging it across the concrete in front of me. The horrible squeal of the metal legs echoed in the small room and it was downright rude and jarring. The sound surged my brain into focus. Shit. Everything hurt. Focus was a mistake. “But see, I don’t have to actually hurt you at all. The mind is an awful thing. True torture isn’t about leaving physical scars. It’s the mental scars that break you.” He continued. I watched him lean over and take a deep breath of whatever was in the bowl. “Mmmmmmm. You know, Nancy makes the best stew. The rest of that buck your giant brought in was just perfect. It’s the spices, and the gravy. Damn, I’m hungry. Are you hungry?” Private Goon was hungry. I was so hungry, they hadn’t fed me from the moment they took me away from the Bravos. A day? No, two, it had to be two days since I climbed off the transport. “I hate stew.” I lied. I loved stew, especially hot, delicious home made stew with big chunks of meat and vegetables swimming in a thick, savory gravy steeped for hours over a low flame on a cold winter day. The scent was worming its way through the air. I could taste it. He took a bite and savored it. He chewed slowly, staring me in the eye. “Well, you’re missing out.” He said around the mouthful. A small drip of whatever delicious sauce it sat in trailed down his chin. “Fuck, Nancy can cook. More for me, I guess. For every lie, every evasion, every non-answer I take a bite, leaving less for you.” He smiled. “I’m not trying to be the bad guy here. I want to feed you. I really do. But I need intel. It’s a fair trade.” I steeled my resolve and smiled back. “Like I fed your sister my dick? She was hungry too.” Which made me laugh again. Cackled like a crazy loon. And that thought cracked me up even more. Man, I was fuck - ing - high -lareeous. He shook his head and took another bite then poured himself a cup of water before chugging it down. “Fuck, sorry but I just can’t stop chowing.” And he spooned another large portion into his mouth. “Stop me anytime you’re ready.” I couldn’t keep my eyes from following the spoon from the bowl to his mouth. It wasn’t a big bowl. Another few bites and there wouldn’t be any stew left. “It’s up to you. You have all the power here.” He explained with reasonable, even tones, holding out a heaped spoonful near my face. So close. “Just one piece of intel. That’s all I need. It doesn’t even have to be anything important or critical.” I could give him something stupid, right? Like Dumbo didn’t like the dark, or Zeus wouldn’t act on his own. There was no real useful information in that. Just something that would get me a bite of food, and once I had that bite I could use the relief from hunger to shore up the fortress. My mind snapped back. No. That was the game. Once the door was cracked, it was over. I would have compromised myself and he would use that to push me further. The only way through this, my training told me, was to always refuse. You NEVER trusted your captor to live up to whatever bargain they made. If they gave you what they promised you, then your brain was convinced cooperation would save you. It was a lie. Even if it wasn’t a lie and it bought you better treatment or even release - a critical part of your capability to resist was destroyed. You could never trust yourself again. You’d stepped on the road to cooperating with the enemy. You became a traitor. Civilians might believe there was a difference between mock operations and an actual battlefield. There wasn’t. What you do in one, you’d do in the other. Once you accepted a course of action that bred weakness, you could never trust yourself when it truly mattered. Doubt seeped in. And this guy was right, even if I understood at a foundational level that he couldn’t actually hurt me physically, he couldn’t kill me, or maim me, he could still make my life extremely difficult and uncomfortable. While it doesn’t take much to kill someone, that also meant it was easy to keep them just a couple steps from death in a state where they wanted to die but couldn’t. A single bite of food a week is all that was necessary to live. A small cup of water every two days. Your body would eat itself eventually, but that took weeks, sometimes months. And one good meal, a soft bed and a good night’s rest, and they could start all over again with more weeks of deprivation. They didn’t have to lift a finger or exert themselves at all. If I wasn’t prepared to maintain resistance when there weren’t any actual stakes, when I knew they didn’t have the time to push me to that threshold, I was unsuitable in every way for real combat situations. And Sarge would say refusing to take the opportunity to test yourself was the most dumbshit fucking decision in the history of dumbshit Grunt decisions in the entire Kingdom of Dumbshit Grunts. Battle and war were all about making the hard decisions, taking a path that was the most difficult. There were no easy paths when the lives of your men, your brothers, were in the balance. That’s the part that sent a golden glow of strength through me. My brothers. For them, I’d die. I’d suffer a thousand cuts, a hundred crippling wounds, if I could keep them safe by doing it and give them the best chance of success. The minute I gave the enemy intel I would reduce their chances of survival. If I could die to give them the chance to get home alive, I would do it gladly. I wouldn’t betray them for a fucking bite of stew. “Fuck you.” I grinned before closing my eyes. Ah, it was good to rest, to let it go. Whatever was going to happen, I didn’t need to stick around for it. With a single deep breath I was gone, inside. No more me. No more hunger, or thirst. No more aching body. Yeah, I was giving up my trump card, but it wasn’t something they could use against me. I resolved to stay under for the duration. It would no doubt create a small crisis for them, and that thought comforted me just before all thoughts bled away like a morning fog. ***************************** The shock of ice cold water drenching and choking me brought me out of the emptiness. I gasped and hacked trying to clear my throat and lungs. “Aw, shit. There goes your water.” He said in a dry but contrite defeat. “Ggggnnnnnhhhh” I groaned. Coming out of the depths, I didn’t get to pick and choose what to pay attention to, and I felt every ache and pain in my body as well as a swollen soreness in my jaw. “You hit me?” I opened and closed my mouth. “I thought we weren’t doing that.” He squinched his face up in a cringe. “Thought you passed out, tried to bring you around.” I didn’t buy it. “So that was your first move, the water only occurred to you after that?” He shrugged. “Yeah. Sorry. I really am. I’m not used to ‘Interrogation Lite’ in my line of work.” he actually made air quotes with his hands. “There IS a rule book, believe it or not. The thing is, the list of ‘don’t do this’ is the actual playbook. Not at your level, of course. They will roast your nuts in a military tribunal if you do any of that shit. Me though? Don’t do this is my bread and butter.” He was talking like he was having a dinner conversation. “God, you’re an asshole.” I grumbled. Oh, the adrenaline had me sharp and aware now. It wouldn’t last, but in spite of the awareness of the pain I was in, I welcomed it. “And that’s not in ‘air quotes’ “ I even held the pause. That made him laugh. “I like your style, kid. You’re fun. I can tell, we’re going to be good friends.” He walked back to his chair behind the table. “Oh, I ate the rest of your stew too. It was so good I let you catch a couple zz’s while I finished. Now, “ He suddenly became serious. The switch was creepy in its swift perfection. “who the fuck are you? You and these other children we’re babysitting?” Gloves are off, I guess. My jaw was proof of that. Was his little speech about ‘don’t do this’ a warning? Up to this point things had been civil. Trust me, getting kicked in the chest while tied to a chair was playtime in these situations, a gentle introduction. I was a pretend prisoner undergoing pretend interrogation. Yeah, I know what I said before about there being no difference. Turns out I lied. Don’t feel bad, I lied to myself first so who’s the bigger chump here? You can’t help but try to do the math in your head during this shit. Hmm, a Chump AND a Goon. I’m really sailing through this shit like a fuckin pro! I chuckled at that. “Something funny, Private?” My Inquisitor asked. He didn’t let me answer. “I’m going to level with you, because I realize this has all be set up as some game and you were told it was training. Which I admit, was what we signed up for. That was the plan. Right up until two of your men went rogue. So, did Collins send you here to get intel? Does he want to stick his nose into our business? You should know, that crosses a line.” This was all news to me, and I told him so. “How the fuck should I know? I haven’t been with my men since this all started, thanks to you and your circus apes. We’re just stupid infantry grunts trying to get through the suck.” “Yeah, just simple grunts without a Command, unassigned. YOU. DON’T. EXIST. You expect me to believe you don’t know that? I had my men snoop around. All of you disappeared ten months ago as far as the Army is concerned. And that - “. He pointed an oddly long index finger at me, “sends off every fucking alarm bell I got. And then we got Collins playing all nice, which isn’t his usual modus operandi. So, do yourself a favor, kid. Whatever you’re mixed up in, just spill it. We don’t want to kill you, but there are stakes here that are way above your pay grade. The circles I operate in, that Collins operates in are world shaking. You’re a monkey in a zoo, and Collins and I…we’re the zoo keepers. More accurately I’m the guy who captures or kills the wild animals and manages the ecosystem so that the predators don’t outnumber the prey. And now it seems Collins is raising his own pack of wild wolves and that’s not his job. So you may not know all the details, but you know something. And that’s your only ticket to staying above the dirt.” He got up out of his chair and knocked on the door. Before he left, he turned around. “I really am sorry kid. I know you didn’t ask for this. None of this makes me happy, but you should know I’ll sleep just fine whether you live or die and I’ll put a bullet through your skull without a single regret. Do the smart thing. Right now we can agree you aren’t too far in and I’m good with turning you over to Collins without a scratch. But you gotta give me something.” He turned to the guy who opened the door. “Get him some food, and let him sleep.” I don’t know whether it was the tone of voice he used, or the words he chose to speak so casually, or the end of interrogation protocol by allowing me to eat and sleep, but I believed him. Still, not even the promise of food and sleep could shake the cold knot of fear from worming its way inside my gut. I especially didn’t like how the Bravos didn’t officially exist. And if the words didn’t do the job, the beating I then got from the ape at the door certainly drove reality home. I did get to eat, which was nice. Did you know chewing is optional when eating? Yeah, chewing is impossible when your jaw barely works. I could barely get my swollen tongue to push the food into my throat, whole. Not like I wasn’t hungry enough to just pour it down my throat without chewing anyway. The delicate logistics of delivering a small enough morsel to get through my ruined mouth was its own torture when all I wanted was to shovel it in. There was also a small comfort in the recognition that getting a beat down from an ape is not too different from foreplay with your ass kicking boyfriend. I was just missing the brutal ass fucking that went along with it. That was always the best part. Thoughts of Kevin lulled me to sleep. If my punished mouth could have smiled, I would have. I needed a clear head to think my way through this, and only sleep would give me that. I wasn’t Kevin, who could add all this up in a few seconds and see the bigger picture from all the puzzle pieces. No, Private Chump Goon needed a clear head. Preferably one that didn’t feel like a sledgehammer was bashing it. Pain is what we eat for Breakfast. Huah! ****************************** BOOTLICKER The knife at his neck only provided a minimum of additional motivation because he was inclined to go with this sneaky asshole anyway. He was bored with the lessons from his instructor, bored of the cold empty woods, bored with Demon’s stupid questions, the delays, this whole fucking day. Bootlicker would have followed the man threatening him if he’d only asked. Admittedly, the knife at his neck did make it more appealing. Whatever this guy wanted, the knife meant it was bound to be more interesting than level 1 fieldcraft from the instructor. He’d stepped away from his group to drop a deuce and was embarrassed to be caught mid-shit with a hand over his mouth and a knife pressing into his soft neck. Never even heard the guy. “Make a sound and I slit your throat.” The guy whispered in his ear. A little creepy, that. The guy could have whispered from a foot away, he didn’t have to press his lips to his actual ear. And then, when he spoke, the warm moist breath that came with the words slathered inside his ear canal, across his cheek. It was like a lover’s caress. Weirdo. He filed that assessment away for potential future exploitation. Bootlicker raised his hands to show he wasn’t going to resist. “You mind if I finish?” He whispered back. “Gotta wipe at least.” “Make it fast.” The weirdo replied. Bootlicker paused for a second but the weirdo didn’t move his face away from his ear, or the knife from his neck. Yeah, definite sicko here. Maybe he liked watching guys take a shit. Bootlicker had read about that type, but hadn’t run across any up until now. Yeah, this was way more interesting than a lecture about tracking through terrain. Weirdos weren’t much of a challenge usually, you just dangled in front of their face whatever their favorite creepy thing was and they were happy to do whatever you wanted. Sometimes a challenge was fun, the whole figuring out what it would take to get someone to do what you needed. But with weirdos, it was a different kind of fun. They got so excited. Like a puppy when you held a treat up for them to see. Maybe this weirdo wanted him to shit on his chest while he watched. Bootlicker finished up with a shrug and a couple handfuls of leaves. It was a shame though, he felt like he was finally going to be able to push out a good, long shit. They didn’t call MRE’s Meals Refusing to Exit without good reason. You get backed up in the field, and when a good rumbler finally decides to breach you want to make the most of it. At least there wasn’t the never ending wipe of a chow hall dump. It was small consolation. There was no telling when the next urge would come. It could be a week and then all he’d have to look forward to was seeing how big of a turd he could push out, and if it broke a Platoon record. Once he’d tightened his belt, the weirdo grabbed his coat by the scruff of the neck and yanked him around to move away from where Demon and Troll were still listening to the droning instruction of their guide. He remained docile while the man pushed him forward every few steps with a rough shove. By doing that he was making it impossible for Bootlicker to step quietly. This guy didn’t seem like the careless type which meant there was a purpose to enforcing Bootlicker’s clumsiness. He divided his attention between choosing his steps and thinking about this change in scenario. The Bravos had already been separated into small groups. Standard for either training development or small unit operations. It was possible that this guy was tasked with peeling off various soldiers for one training purpose or another. Bootlicker didn’t think so. The silent attack coupled with leading him away from his group indicated the Bravos and their instructor weren’t supposed to know. An idea popped into his head - the man’s rough treatment ensured a trail the others could follow, and they were just talking about tracking through terrain. Was he now the target? That seemed off, and inaccurate. Why make it easy on them like the man was doing by refusing to let Bootlicker place his feet carefully? Anyone could track a messy trail, especially in winter through leaf fall and dead growth. And what did this guy even need Bootlicker for? He could do this himself. It almost felt like the man didn’t care about leaving a trail, that he knew they wouldn’t follow them. Everything felt off from the knife to his neck, to being attacked when the others were distracted and HE was distracted, now this clumsy travel. “I can actually be way more careful in leaving a trail, you know.” He told the guy. “Doesn’t matter.” The man said in a loud whisper, giving him another shove. “You aren’t going to tie my hands?” Bootlicker asked. Another shove. “Doesn’t matter.” “What if I call out? Someone will come running.” Bootlicker tried a third time. A harder shove this time, forcing him to stumble. “Doesn’t matter. Shut the fuck up.” When Bootlicker regained his balance, he felt a sharp sting on his ear. His hand came away bloody. The fucker had cut him. The sharp tang of coppery blood invaded his nose. Definitely a puzzling development. Bootlicker tried to fit that information into the profile he was building of the man. If he was going to manipulate this guy, he needed a motivation. The knife seemed important. He hadn’t sheathed it and kept twirling it in his hand as they walked, flipping it, tossing it over the back of his hand to grab the handle again from the other side, changing the blade’s direction in his fist over and over again. That was another clue. Bootlicker didn’t get a sense of agitation from the guy, so it wasn’t a nervous tic. Practice? Habit? Showing off a skill to intimidate Bootlicker? The man’s head and eyes constantly scanned the woods around them, never looking at the knife while it moved. There was something hypnotic in the confident moves, a pattern. Bootlicker began to memorize the various movements as they walked. It wasn’t long, maybe a half hour, before they approached a small rise. The man circled around to the right and with a move that looked like an optical illusion or a magic trick he let go of the knife with his right hand and with a lazy and casual motion reached out to grab Bootlicker’s upper arm with his right while catching the knife with his left. The weird part was that the knife just seemed to hang there until it was gripped once again. Bootlicker tried to figure out if it defied gravity for as long as it seemed it had. Around to the right a hole sat at the base of a rocky cliff that was about 11 feet high. The hole looked natural, maybe from erosion, and it was barely wide enough to fit a grown man. He received a kick to the back of his knees and he collapsed. The man didn’t let him fall, and instead lowered him with firm control until his knees were on the ground. “Feet first.” The man commanded. Bootlicker thought the rough whispering was overly dramatic like Michael Keaton in the movie Batman Returns. Maybe someone else would be intimidated. Bootlicker saw it for the silliness it was. “Can’t you talk normal?” He said, scooting on his butt into the hole. He saw a flash out of the corner of his eye and felt another sting on his ear. A cringe was all he would allow himself. He didn’t waste the opportunity to learn. That knife skill enticed him more than the Airborne course, more than survival training, more than range training and qualification. It should be easy to master. After all, he hadn’t neglected his hand tricks while in the Army. If anything he’d climbed up a few skill levels by palming anything he wanted, fooling the Bravos with card tricks, lock picking and picking pockets. Before the Bravos had left Germany he had keys for 80% of the motor pool. He never used them, but you never knew when or if it would come in handy. For practice before they left, he snuck into the NATO ally section at Graf and left the keys on the desk of the NATO allied commander with a note. After duty hours, of course. He wasn’t yet at the level of a daytime duty raid. Knife handling, control and skill seemed like it was a necessary for his path. Aside from the brief time in Basic when there was no avoiding being treated like a diseased worm, being railroaded into the Army was the best thing that ever happened to him. Almost infinite resources, toys, access, danger and adrenaline, skills and training in EVERYTHING. The hole was dark and he had no idea where his feet needed to be as he scooted inside. It didn’t take a genius to anticipate the small crevice would have to open up. There was no purpose to forcing a grown man into a hole that didn’t, and if the weirdo was joining him there would have to be more room. He wasn’t surprised when he felt his feet hit air, then his knees, thighs. He hoped the ground didn’t fall away too far but at least it all felt wide. Scooting six inches at a time while blind was not enjoyable. Once his stomach hung over the edge, his feet contacted solid ground. He realized he would have to move away from the entrance because no doubt the weirdo would be coming in at any time. Without his body blocking the tight tunnel, a slight bit of light filtered in, allowing him to see minimal features of the hideout. It would take his eyes a minute or so to adjust completely but he could make out enough room overhead that he didn’t have to squat. He looked around. The space wasn’t large, maybe seven feet long by five feet wide, sort of an oval. The odor of wild animal was everywhere, that sharp musky scent so overwhelming nothing else could compete. A small lumpy pile sat nearby. While he was contemplating what the pile might be, a hard boot jammed into his back and sent him sprawling against the wall. He should have anticipated that. The weirdo was smart. Bootlicker could have been waiting to attack while the weirdo was vulnerable and stuck in the tunnel. In the time it took Bootlicker to regain his feet and turn around, the man was standing in the den with knife flipping across his knuckles, back and forth. “Make yourself comfortable.” The coarse, gravelly voice didn’t echo, but still sounded too loud for the small enclosed space. Bootlicker moved over to the pile intending to sit. “Not there.” The weirdo growled. He pushed down the frustration. “Here?” Bootlicker pointed to a spot 2 feet away. “Fine.” As he sat, Bootlicker thought he might break the ice. “Yo-“ “Shut the fuck up.” The man interrupted. “Fucking babies.” Bootlicker watched him search through the pile. Bootlicker’s reflexes caught something thrown at him. His eyes were almost completely adjusted now and rather than just shadows he saw features resolve. “Eat that. Drink your own fucking water.” “Than-“ “Shut the fuck up.” Interesting. This was going to be fun. He’d never had to get inside someone this combative. In most cases of opposition, recognition of authority lowered resistance. Well placed subservience smoothed and defined a relationship they felt comfortable with. This guy didn’t care. Bootlicker knew there was a way past the man’s gruff and irritated frustration, he only had to wait for the man to give him a clue. There was always a clue. The weirdo didn’t pull him away for his sparkling personality, unless this was some kinky thing. He wasn’t getting that read. People who wanted something like THAT from you usually didn’t treat you like shit. With those people it was all about being overly nice. This had a purpose, a purpose the weirdo felt was either beneath him or he felt wouldn’t pay off. He didn’t want Bootlicker here, that was clear as day. Orders? Was he just some unfortunate slave to someone else? He took a bite of whatever it was that was wrapped in the foil package. It was too dark to see. The weirdo would reveal everything he expected soon, Bootlicker guessed. The weirdo was definitely not the patient type. As Bootlicker chewed, he felt the clotted blood pull at his skin with every movement of his jaw. ‘This is exactly the adventure I needed.’ He thought with a grin. ********************* “Name.” The man coughed out. His voice sounded like he was choking on a wad of steel wool. Seriously, it was so ridiculous. Bootlicker opened his eyes from his short nap. By mutual unspoken agreement they’d both leaned back against their respective walls and closed their eyes after eating. “Bootlicker.” He answered. A knife flew at Bootlicker. He almost didn’t dodge in time. It thudded off the dirt wall where his chest used to be. “Name.” “Evans.” Bootlicker sighed. It was right there on his uniform. Like always. Which meant a game of follow the leader. He hated this game, it was the ultimate in boring. ‘Prove you know how to listen. Prove you know how to follow the rules. Prove you’re smart. Prove you’re willing. But most of all - Prove obedience.’ For fuck’s sake, he didn’t get the name Bootlicker because he had a shoe fetish. “Can’t we just skip this?” He said softly. Another knife. He didn’t bother to dodge this time because he was expecting it. He just knocked it aside. It was just timing. They weren’t thrown with deadly force. He shouldn’t have come. This was going to be no different than the usual slow, painful drip of information he always had to endure. Skills and information were always taught at a rate that the dumbest idiot could grasp. And Bootlicker was a rabbit among turtles. No. A cheetah. He didn’t need a slow feed, didn’t need repetition, multiple examples or explanation. Practice was what he needed if it was a skill. Additional pieces was what he needed if it were information. Everything was a puzzle. He darted his eyes to the man who was now easy to see with his complete adjustment to the dark. He was picking his fingernails with another knife. Bootlicker didn’t bother retrieving either of the knives the man had thrown. “Which direction did we travel to get here?” The raspy voice asked. He pointed to the wall on his right. “Southwest. Heading 194. Approximately.” The man’s eyebrows twitched. “Close enough.” He said taking his eyes off his fingernail project to stare at Bootlicker. “How far did we travel?” “Two and a half clicks. Approximately.” “Fine. Elevation?” Bootlicker smirked. Showing off was one of his favorite things to do. “Specific, I don’t know. This area of Georgia doesn’t exceed 360 meters. Floor is 280. We’re somewhere between 310 and 330 meters. And delta from origin is…” he paused. “12 meters. Approximately. Maximum deviation of this grid is 40 meters.” “The compound?” Bootlicker referenced the three dimensional sketch of the area he’d already built in his head. “Heading 72 degrees, four clicks, elevation delta minus 23 meters.” “Who gave you a map?” Another smirk. “Ft. Benning. The board outside the Cadre building.” He just had a feeling the man had seen the 6 foot by 4 foot display behind plexiglass that posted information about Airborne command, Ft. Benning, the state of Georgia with both a general terrain map and a detailed map of the base, the town of Columbus, state parks. He didn’t think the man would believe that most of the information came from when he completed AIT here. Over a year and a half ago, his core navigation module provided all the information he needed and he exceeded the boundaries of the requirements because like usual he was bored after internalizing the course demands. While the rest of his AIT class struggled to learn how to use a compass, grid building, resection, identifying terrain features, he began figuring out the rest of the state and then the region. With every detail the picture in his head resolved in finer, smaller segments until he was satisfied he could walk on foot through the countryside from Pensacola to Nashville without following a single road. The look on the man’s face was droll disbelief. “How far is the border of Alabama?” The man’s voice scratched. Yeah, now came the expected proof and confirmation. Just once it would be nice to be taken at face value. These mundane plodding human livestock could never conceive he operated efficiently. “Approximately 20 clicks.” “You know exactly where you are.” It wasn’t a question. “In your head.” The man wasn’t looking at him, but bobbed his head while looking at his knife as if trying to come to a decision. “Scud attack on the barracks.” The man rasped. “Didn’t even make it out of Saudi Arabia, never set foot in either Kuwait or Iraq. Never fired a single round. Missed my jugular by a fingernail. Was told I was lucky they could save this much of my voice. Normal is whatever you decide it is.” Bootlicker approved of the lack of anger, lack of self pity in the man’s ravaged voice. The man went back to flipping and twirling a knife through his fingers, across his knuckles, through his palms. “Observations.” He continued as if he hadn’t just exposed the most painful regret of his entire life. Something in the refusal of emotion resonated with Bootlicker. He took a breath. Somehow, he felt it would be worth it to take a leap of faith. After his talk with Gary, his cellmate in jail, he kept his unusual personality carefully hidden. Gary was right - it was creepy to the human livestock and made them suspicious, even frightened. So he perfected the charming, engaging, helpful nerd persona for general interaction. If he needed a different one for a specific situation, like the firm control he exercised with Wanker, that was easy enough. Wanker believed he was the only one chosen to see a different side of Bootlicker, and that served to ensure Wanker’s loyalty and dedication. Wanker believed they were a team. “All of it?” Bootlicker asked. The direct and intense stare he received sent a thrill through Bootlicker. “At least three forces, multiple objectives.” He started. “We’re pawns, the Bravos. Ultimate objective is a new policy directive straight from the Pentagon. This is a testing ground for us, but there’s a battle behind the show. We aren’t fully welcome here. We weren’t at Airborne. We won’t be in the Ranger course. Our success won’t be measured by training metrics. The training is only a method to evaluate whether a change in policy can be implemented.” “You’re sure you’ll be sent to the Ranger course?” The man asked. “I saw the file myself. The compound is a pit stop. Unscheduled. Major Collins exercised some of his broad discretion to get us here.” “What do you know about Collins?” The man asked. Bootlicker let the slight grin play across his lips. So much information. The man referred to Collins by name, without the rank of Major. That signified familiarity and dispensed with the respect. A personal relationship of some sort, known, no chain of command. The detail of how the man lost his voice indicated a medical separation from the military. His clandestine retrieval by the man indicated he wasn’t affiliated with the men from the compound. But that wasn’t confirmed. “Major Collins is running the program we’re in. He’s working for the Pentagon in this. He reports directly to a General, skipping over the usual intermediaries. That alone makes whoever he is very important.” “Why?” It was a question intended to confirm that Bootlicker grasped the subtleties of military politics, so he answered. “It means he’s protected. It gives him authority beyond his rank. It means he works outside the usual limited environments a Major would be allowed. He has few restrictions, wide discretion, deep funding and the ability to commandeer resources like a NATO training base in Germany and enough slots in the Ranger course for an entire Infantry platoon.” “Is this a specific career objective for your Platoon?” The man asked. “Speculating? Yes, but only because Major Collins won’t waste highly trained, specifically targeted troops after he gets his answer from the program. Those of us who make it will likely end up SOF. All this would be a colossal waste of time, personnel, and money if he didn’t use us further. That seems unlikely.” The man snorted, which with his broken vocal ability only sounded like he was choking on rocks. “You haven’t spent enough time in if you think the Pentagon doesn’t throw away all three of those things every day.” It was Bootlicker’s turn to snort. “Then that tells me you haven’t exchanged a single word with Major Collins, and probably have never laid eyes on him.” The man gave him an unimpressed slow blink. Confirmation. The back and forth revealed further information to Bootlicker. The man was receiving information he didn’t know before, including that the Bravos knew their purpose and their pipeline. Bootlicker let him have the assumption that the knowledge was a given fact among the Bravos even though it wasn’t. There wasn’t yet a reason to reveal that Bootlicker was the one who discovered the information and held it closely so far. He might be impressed to know just how Bootlicker came to know these things. But it wasn’t time to reveal that. That would create an imbalance in this negotiation. The man wasn’t livestock in his mind anymore but he also wasn’t an equal yet. The signs were good that he might be but Bootlicker wouldn’t let himself hope yet. In the silence, Bootlicker picked up one of the knives the man had thrown at him and began trying to figure out how to manipulate it across his hand. He focused on moving it in one direction, working out the method to flip the handle out of his grasp so that the blade contacted his knuckles. The man glanced briefly at his actions, then went back to his unfocused stare. “What were you told before being dropped off?” Up until then, he’d managed to catch the knife every time he dropped it. He would be clumsy until he found the rhythm. The question distracted him and he felt the knife bounce off his thigh. He picked it up and resumed. “Nothing. Pack out and load up. That’s it. We don’t know what we’re supposed to learn here, but given what we’ve been doing the last 36 hours, it’s a crucible. Our baseline capability was measured. The instructors who selected us in small units are teaching us scouting, recon, field skills and tonight is a mock attack on the compound using modified battle drills. We’re supposed to plan an infiltration or frontal assault. We’re meant to lose.” “They won’t let your units penetrate beyond the outer buildings.” The man observed. “Zeus will have something to say about that.” Bootlicker returned. He didn’t give anyone else a snowball’s chance in hell now that he’d been take off the game board. He would have maximized the talents of Demon and Troll to get further than that, but without him dictating the strategy neither of those two had the brainpower to modify the plan on the fly. “But yes, the other group will have secondary defenses. They will make sure they have overlapping coverage for their initial defense. And without Assmunch we won’t have an overall multi layer assault plan. Our small units will be acting independently. It’ll be a slaughter.” “Yup. Gonna get your asses kicked. We can watch from a distance position if you want, but we’ll be enjoying each other’s company for the foreseeable future.” The voice was grating less and less on Bootlicker’s nerves. “I’d rather work with you on the reason you’re here.” Bootlicker replied. He didn’t want to watch the grunts flounder and lose to the Charlies. It would only bore him. “Oh? And what would you know about that?” The careful disinterest spoke volumes. Instead of a direct answer, Bootlicker made a show of looking around their small cave. “We only got here yesterday morning. You, however, have been using this hideout for a least a few days longer than that.” He let the rest, the natural conclusion of that information, hang unspoken. The split second hesitation in the man’s constant knife flipping glared louder than anything he could have said. “Looks like the little guy was right.” The man said. “That little fucker was trickier and faster than he had any right to be. ‘Bootlicker would know’ he said.” That could only mean Weeble. An unexpected laugh came out of his mouth, surprising him. Genuine humor was rare for Bootlicker. “Just think of him as a cornered feral cat if he doesn’t like whatever you did to him.” A grunt was the man’s response. Then a pause before “You’re awful cooperative for someone who has no idea what he’s involved in.” “Involved?” Bootlicker mused. “We’re just here. Pawns aren’t involved, they occupy spaces to force other….” He stopped suddenly. “Took you long enough.” The man actually managed to insert a snide tone into the crushed gravel of his words. Bootlicker ignored the verbal arrow. Multiple game pieces of different levels of power appeared in his mind. The very nature of the compound itself, the instructors he’d seen, the rough military discipline without actual military presence, Major Collins and his ability to get them here, and the last piece was this man and his comfortable hideout that spoke of long term recon. “Put it together. I’ll clear up any incorrect assumptions or conclusions.” The man said, his tone of voice, such as it was, drastically different. “Major Collins has additional objectives he hopes to gain by our presence here.” Bootlicker began, speaking as soon as the thoughts came. “You don’t know what they are, which means you aren’t associated with the Major and not part of his plan. But you also aren’t surprised that Major Collins is directing this. That indicates you have objectives as well that differ from his. There’s something about the compound, or the organization here you both want to know, I think. You yourself aren’t active duty any more, probably a medical discharge just before Desert Storm, or during it because your fitness wouldn’t be determined until you rehabbed and could be evaluated by the board. When doesn’t matter. Your questions… our arrival forced you to figure out what part the Bravos had to play, you weren’t expecting us. And you chose a grunt Private, well two of us if I include Weeble, to provide you intel and that means you are desperate.” The man stopped him with a hand. “Not desperate. Trying to avoid collateral damage to the pawns.” Fair enough. There was still something missing and it immediately came to mind as he recognized the hole in the strategic moves. It made no sense for the man to reveal himself to Weeble and Bootlicker. Clandestine surveillance wasn’t an overnight operation. While he couldn’t know of any immediate or critical timeline that would make a breach of operating procedure that necessary it was beyond foolish to seek the minimal information any Bravo could provide. No one at higher levels would ever think Infantry Privates had valuable intel. It didn’t add up. He kept that to himself. There was another game here. One he was now determined to figure out. And finding out things he wasn’t supposed to find out was his specialty. Sergeant Walters or Horvath were better targets. Hmmm, except if the play was to target soldiers younger and easier to manipulate and control. How interesting would it be if a pawn could be seized and converted to play for your side? Or did different sides even exist? His only path ahead was cooperation, but that suited him just fine. There was quite a bit he needed to learn from this man and it didn’t matter which faction he played for.

Hidden in a tree some distance from the platoon was a man dressed in wilderness camouflage, and he was studying the Bravos while remaining immovable inside the evergreen branches of the large pine. No leaves of the deciduous trees blocked his view. The leaves had long since fallen to the ground. “Him. I want HIM.” The man holding binoculars called down in low tones. It was clear who he meant, the guy who seemed to be in charge of the platoon, the one everyone paid attention to. “Copy.” The man standing by the trunk answered before running off. The man in the tree was still questioning his decision to do this favor for Collins. But technically it was one of the tasks they advertised to customers so he didn’t have an automatic ‘no’ ready when the Marine called him. Usually when they trained troops or squads for specific ops it wasn’t at their compound on the Georgia-Alabama border it was on some foreign soil elsewhere in the world. U.S. troops, foreign troops, operators of all sorts. Collins paid well, the U.S. govt usually did, which tipped the balance in favor of a ‘yes’ in this unusual case. Cherries. Every single one. They looked like children. Patrol discipline wasn’t terrible, except for the noise they were making. “Guess they didn’t get the message.” He said to himself. Collins had left it up to him how he would run this, and he decided against briefing the babies before testing them. Run of the mill grunts were instructed and ordered - ‘don’t color outside the lines’, ‘shoot that’, ‘sit there’, ‘don’t eat the crayons.’ These grunts weren’t run of the mill. Figuring out the sitch was part of operating without intel, adapting a mission, creating a mission, defining the battlefield, all important factors that would tell him what these kindergarteners lacked. He mentally shrugged. “Collins did say to push them. Over the cliff is still pushing.” ************************ Assmunch came to decision. How this day had proceeded left too many unanswered questions for him to feel comfortable operating as if this were a normal patrol. He considered this to be enemy territory. An entire platoon was too big to accomplish any objective without intel, and they created a big fat target for attack or ambush. A big, noisy, easily herded target. After listening to the opinions of his men, he turned to Cellblock. “We’ll do a 5k Shotgun.” Cellblock nodded before turning to give orders to the teams. “Three man standard.” Cellblock announced. The Bravos immediately broke into their teams. “5k due Northeast. HEE-HAW” No one waited, they had their orders and a plan. Hide. Evade. Escape. Harass. Attack. Weaken. Something Cellblock had come up with in Germany to handle situations when you didn’t know where your enemy was and were marching blind. You picked a direction (northeast), selected a distance to reconverge (5k), broke off into smaller teams (3 man), head off into different directions along a 180 degree arc (shotgun). Assmunch took a few deep breaths and settled into the zone while the rest of of the Bravos disappeared into the woods. All the elements came together in his head, clues he’d noticed as they patrolled without attempting to figure out how they connected. The topography of the terrain they’d traversed. The time of day, the drop off point, the delays, having no briefing or mission, no objective, the few things he knew about their hosts and Major Collins, their training up to this point, Germany, being allowed to break the rules in small ways, unusual skills not normally provided to Infantry privates. Evaluation of existing proficiency coupled with identification of deficiencies was always step number one. That would be his first step…well after selecting participants, but he had no way of knowing or determining which selection criteria were used. Create a baseline. Develop a plan, a program. Challenge, instruct, test, train. Eliminate external factors and isolate. Increase the intensity of training, build on previous lessons. It all floated around in his brain until an arrow of lightning pierced his thoughts. “Chunk, head out and join up with Alaska’s group. That way.” He pointed. He and Chunk were the odd two man team left after the Bravos split up into their 3 man shotgun. “Leave your gear, it’ll just slow you down. We’ll take it with us.” “We…..?” Chunk said in confusion, while unlatching his kidney strap and chest strap and letting his ruck drop to the ground. In two seconds he was gone. They were beyond argument, discussion. The Bravos trusted that he had his reasons, had a plan and a goal in mind. Assmunch used the time to go deeper, leaving just the smallest part of himself to monitor Automatic brain. He had nothing more to figure out. If their hosts hadn’t already decided to deprive the Bravos of their leader, they would soon, especially after seeing the Platoon disperse. There was no point to making it hard for them to take him, it would only wear him out. These were guys who didn’t lose, especially against a 20 year old Private. There wasn’t a lot of math to do to arrive at the answer that Assmunch would be loser in any scenario. At least this way, he could get a mind-nap even if he left a sliver of his awareness on alert. He made himself comfortable in a ruck flop on the ground and waited. It wouldn’t be long. Thoughts of his recent weekend with Kevin and his family kept him warm. ************************* “Clever.” The man in the tree muttered as he saw the Bravos split up and scatter. Only two of the teams would be exposed to the traps his men were currently setting up on the path to the compound. The others would circumvent them. He no longer had confidence the traps would be successful. There was no way the Platoon could know the exact location of the compound but with this tactic it wouldn’t be difficult to triangulate. However, they couldn’t communicate with each other. The smooth and fluid way the troops went into action spoke of a precision execution of a previously developed drill. At some point they would have to converge again if they planned to act as a unit. Did they know he didn’t have enough men to chase after ten teams? At least eight of the teams would locate the compound. Once found, they’d wait and gather intel. The rats would find the cheese. He welcomed knowledge that the infants had made his job slightly easier. He wouldn’t have to herd them. He was also pleased that Collins had sent them kids with at least a little experience. He hit the radio button on the handset hooked to his vest. “Let them go. Base, prepare for perimeter incursion, line of sight…”. He did a quick calculation in his head…” contact in two ticks…1400.” He saw the target squat down and assume a relaxed seated pose. “Discontinue target hunt and capture. He’s waiting for you. Target will cooperate.” The man thought for a couple seconds. “You’ll only need one man, Cage. Send the rest to shadow the infants. You have free rein to play. Do not incapacitate or injure.” His men would watch and determine how able and skilled these little babies were. After they were rounded up he’d get reports on who the thinkers were, who gave orders, who led and who followed. From that he could develop a program to focus on their deficiencies. ******************* Zeus scrambled up the twelve foot rock face then planted himself on his stomach to reach down to grab Weeble’s outstretched hand to pull him up from Sleeper’s lift. Weeble climbed over Zeus, using the big man’s ruck for handholds. Once his hands were free, Zeus grabbed Sleeper’s free hand to do the same for him, waiting until Sleeper gained his feet before rising to stand. “We have a shadow.” Zeus said, turning his head for his gaze to drift over the shadow’s position without stopping. Sleeper nodded. “I saw one, you think there’s more?” Zeus shook his head. “Negative.” “Sneaky snake.” Weeble commented. “He’s gonna be hard to shake. He’s gonna be a problem.” “Yeah. Do we deal with him now, or wait?” Sleeper asked. “Now.” Zeus replied in a dangerous tone. “We don’t know if we’ll have the opportunity to escape his observation further on. He’ll lose momentary track of us once we get away from this ridge. Best opening we’ll have. He maintains distance, but that doesn’t mean he won’t engage at some point.” Sleeper nodded in agreement. “Weeble…” “I know what to do, Sleeper.” Weeble interrupted. “Give Zeus your ruck.” Sleeper said as he started forward and away from the edge. When they were sure they were out of sight, Weeble slid out of his straps while still moving and darted off into the scrub. Sleeper grinned watching Weeble skitter off to the cover of a dense thicket twenty yards off to the right. No one moved like Weeble, fast and low, his legs pumping furiously. “Let’s move.” Sleeper said, setting off at a quick jog almost at the same moment Weeble skittered away. The diversion relied on disguising that one of their team had peeled off. Their shadow had to think he was still following all three. And no matter how good their shadow was, Weeble was one of the fastest they had in a scramble, not to mention wriggly and writhing, all wild rabid and feral. He was worse than Shark. Shark hit and ran, he didn’t wait around. Weeble would only run if it served a purpose. And if Weeble got caught it worked to their advantage too, as it would slow their shadow down. He’d have to make a choice, and there really wasn’t a choice. Their shadow couldn’t allow Weeble to continue to randomly distract him from following his other two targets. He’d lose track of them. Even captured, Weeble would be an anchor around the shadow’s neck. Had it been an actual enemy who meant to do them harm, they would have used a different approach, splitting up to harass the shadow individually in rapid engagements intended to tire and confuse. Sure, it would slow their progress toward their objective, but eliminating an enemy behind you took priority. Too much havoc could be wrought by even a single man. Sleeper shook his head. Whoever was calling the shots were seriously underestimating the skills of their targets, and it would be foolish for Sleeper to avoid taking advantage of that mistake. They sent one man? Sleeper wouldn’t make the same mistake though, he fully expected their shadow to be very, very good at bushcraft. It was arrogant for him to allow himself to be spotted, but was that deliberate or were their hosts completely unprepared for the Shotgun? Those were questions Sleeper couldn’t answer. But just like a fighter jet released countermeasures to deal with a fired missile during a dogfight in the air, the Shotgun was meant to create too many targets for a single attack to succeed. And the 3 man Shotgun could be further dispersed to create three more targets if necessary. He had no doubts that the other squads had their own shadows and were dealing with them in similar ways. Either way the dice fell, Sleeper didn’t have to worry about their shadow anymore. ********************* “Fuck him up, Demon.” Cellblock said. If their shadow was smart, he’d bolt. There was plenty of room for him to escape between the points of the triangle they’d surrounded him with. Even if he was really good, he’d have a hard time prevailing over three attackers if he waited for them to engage. The group of them stood spread six paces apart in an area where the trees were spaced further apart. “Wait.” Their captive said. “We’re only evaluating you.” He said in a calm and reasonable voice. “If you attack, there’s going to be injuries. A lot of injuries.” Something in his tone made it a certainty rather than a possibility. He didn’t seem bothered, or nervous at all. In fact, he stood relaxed with his arms crossed. “You could surrender.” Troll offered. Their shadow turned his head to study Troll. “You want a captive?” Troll shrugged. “Not really, you’ll slow us down. Or we could leave you tied to this tree here.” The man laughed. Cellblock realized he liked this guy. He looked to be in his late 20’s or early thirties, bundled for the cold so it was hard to see his body shape, but he stood about 5’11”. He had an easy friendliness to him, with brown eyes that never lost a look of amusement. “That would suck, but you know I’d get loose. You would have to take me with you. I could give you intel.” It was Cellblock’s turn to laugh. “Are you going to give us intel?” “If you ask nice, sure. Why wouldn’t I?” The man replied. “We weren’t told not to.” Cellblock sighed. “You could lie. You probably already are.” Another laugh. “Well isn’t that how it goes? You have to figure out what’s a lie, and what isn’t?” He waited a few seconds for Cellblock to make a decision. “What do you think Demon?” He asked, looking at the only member of the squad that hadn’t spoken. Demon grinned. “I like to fight. I know I won’t win against you, not by myself. But I could make it difficult on you to continue following us.” The shadow raised his hands as his eyebrows lifted up onto his forehead. “What am I going to do? All I have to do is slow you down, which is going to happen either way we do this. I’d rather do it the friendly way. After all, I don’t REALLY want you to cry every time you have to pee for the next four days. I’m going to hammer my boot between your legs and put a size 11 footprint in your taint. You’ll probably puke, and we won’t be going anywhere for at least an hour. It’s 50-50 whether you’ll have little Demon’s running around when some poor stripper finally agrees to marry you.” Demon scowled. “I don’t like threats.” The happy shadow smiled. “You’re in the wrong line of work for that, buddy.” Cellblock sighed. “We have to secure your hands.” The shadow nodded and crossed his wrists behind his back. “Demon, secure your ruck on the captive.” Cellblock ordered. He was pleased at the momentary scowl that flashed over the shadow’s face. But it disappeared fast and was replaced with the man’s normal bemused visage. “Troll, your ruck goes on the front.” Now the scowl remained. “Demon, secure his wrists when he’s latched in.” “You know I can’t march far with this weight.” The shadow said. “I can’t see the ground, I’m going to trip and fall a lot. That’s going to slow you down.” Cellblock grimaced. “Ouch. And with your hands tied you won’t be able to catch your fall. We really should have thought this through better. Move out.” “Look at it this way, your feet are free, you can still put that boot in my taint. I kinda got a boner for it now.” Demon licked his lips and smiled with a wink as he grabbed the right shoulder strap on the Shadow while Troll grabbed the left. “We’ll try not to let you fall.” The set off to continue in the direction they’d been originally traveling. “The compound is that way.” The shadow said, indicating with his chin a direction off to their left. “We know.” Cellblock said without pausing or changing direction. “Good luck throwing Troll off.” Cellblock said a silent word of thanks that the Sergeants Bravo had trained them full of hard lessons in Germany with few breaks. He couldn’t imagine how they would have handled this situation back when they were green. ********************* They’d been in woodlands exactly like these before, prior to Germany. A lot of scrub growth, crowded thickets and difficult paths to navigate forced them to stick to one or two easier to travel routes. “When do you think it’ll happen?” Dumbo asked. “Pretty soon.” Bootlicker answered. “Eyes sharp. “You take under, Dumbo. Wanker, you take over.” “He’s still back there.” Wanker observed. “You sure, Wanker? I’d have come up alongside by now, maybe even ahead.” Bootlicker murmured, keeping his voice low. “Yeah. Twenty yards back. He’d have to circle too far to track us alongside and we haven’t given him time. The squirrels behind us haven’t started running on the floor again, still darting through the trees overhead.” “Good.” Bootlicker replied. Now…would it be a diversion, a trap, or a delay? These guys had home turf advantage. If it was him, Bootlicker would have set up something that combined all three with enough time. The cry of a red-tailed hawk sounded close by, a lonely and mournful screech in the cold quiet of the woods. Bootlicker took in the surroundings. A slight rise, maybe three or four feet to their left beyond which appeared dense growth. Too bad it wasn’t summer, there’d be juicy blackberries on those. His stomach growled with disappointment in the season. He’d brave the almost guaranteed yellow jacket swarm for a handful of blackberries at this point. A clearing beckoned at 1 clock through gradually spreading tree trunks. Both directions were desirable for strategic purposes. Their pursuer would avoid the clearing, not wanting to walk in the open. And he’d know his targets would want to avoid a clearing for similar reasons. When you’re on patrol in the woods clearings were prime ambush locations. The enemy could hide and attack from cover while your squad was pinned in the open. A smart patrol would avoid the clearing. The trap would be at the top of the rise to the left. “Bootlicker…” “I know, Dumbo.” Bootlicker answered. He was thinking, but he couldn’t take too long. Their pursuer would use the time to circle around. He suddenly realized THIS was the diversion, they were expected to take some time to evaluate their choices. There would be a trap either way they chose, but because the clearing was the least desirable option the trap there would be less troublesome because almost no one would choose that option in this situation. His squad had taken the route directly pointing to the ultimately expected compound to the northeast. If it was a prepared trap, which was likely on a route their hosts selected for them, it would be something intended for an entire Platoon rather than a smaller three man squad. Assmunch had changed the game and their enemy didn’t have time to revise their carefully laid obstacle course. It was too early for sacrifice. “Are you clocking, Wanker?” He asked. “Shadow on the move, east.” Bootlicker nodded. As expected. He had to wait. Their pursuer would take position in the woods across the clearing once he circled around. So foolishly confident for a lone tracker. Is that what their hosts thought of them? Did they really think they were bumbling idiots? “Let me know when he’s likely to lose eyes on us.” Bootlicker said. “We move along heading one hundred fifty degrees on Wanker’s go. Max speed.” “Copy” Dumbo and Wanker echoed. Thirty seconds passed in silence. “Now.” Wanker breathed, and the three of them darted immediately to the southwest, the small rise with the blackberry bushes above covering their quick retreat. “We have thirty seconds max to find cover to hide our route. There!” Wanker pointed to a large fallen tree beyond which was yet another wide expanse of shrubs and low growth. Running full out was difficult on even ground when you were rucked and loaded, and in the woods it was downright dangerous, but they didn’t have a choice. It wasn’t a sprint, and you didn’t pump your legs you barely lifted your feet. “If he’s smart, he’ll just meet us up ahead rather than try to follow us, but it’ll take him a bit while he waits for us to to appear. He should figure it out pretty quick.” ******************* “I’m just about fed up with these little fucking bastards.” Beggar said to the tree he was leaning against in a squat. He’d waited in position, taking the opportunity to swallow a nutri-bar in two bites. “Babysitting job my ass.” He stood up gingerly. He had what he came for. He’d take his time heading back to base, maybe they’d all arrive at the same time. He wondered how the others were doing and if they were having as much trouble as he was. One thing was clear, these bastards weren’t the babies they’d been told to expect. That actually pleased him. He’d recommend that the dial get turned up to 11. With a smile he walked casually through the woods dreaming of punishing these three pukes in particular in the week to come. If anyone were watching, they would notice he walked with a slight limp favoring his left foot. The one with the big ears would be his special project. “Payback’s a bitch, motherfucker.” He muttered as he stopped and sat down on the ground to remove his boot. He was going to have to wrap his ankle. It hadn’t stopped throbbing with the usual walking it off. He chuckled. The spring loaded sapling was a lucky hit. He still couldn’t figure out how he tripped it. And he hadn’t had time to investigate how they’d done it in the first place. Fucking. Little. Green. Grunt. Bastard. Mother. Fuckers. ****************** “We can’t have lost him.” Dumbo said. “He’s up ahead somewhere then.” Bootlicker said. “Probably snacking on a box of crayons waiting for us.” Wanker said, making them all chuckle. “You think he’s a Marine?” Dumbo asked. Wanker shrugged. “Who knows? He rolled down that hill like a big dumb bag of rocks though. That had Marine written all over it. I didn’t expect that little tree to whip that hard. But then,” Wanker chuckled, “neither did he.” “It was a thing of beauty.” Bootlicker said, smiling. “But don’t get cocky. Stay focused. He underestimated us, let his guard down. It won’t happen again. If anything, I expect payback.” “There’s not much further to go, if Holler was right. I don’t think he’ll have time to hit us.” Dumbo said. “You could be right, but let’s expect it anyway.” Bootlicker replied. Wanker groaned. “I wish I had a box of crayons to eat. I’m starving.” Bootlicker patted him on the back. “Don’t worry. Holler knows his shit, we’ll be eating soon I bet.” ****************** “Is that all of them?” Gregory asked, his eyes watching the Private sitting in a chair in the middle of the compound’s courtyard. Gregory was in the tower four stories up with two of his commanders, looking down. “All but three, sir. The squad with the big guy and the little guy are in the wind.” Jackson replied. “Wasn’t that Nancy’s squad?” He asked. “Yes, sir. Can’t reach Nancy on the radio.” Gregory squinted and furrowed his brow. Just who had Collins sent here? These were kids. Nancy was no-contact. Beggar came back injured. Ghost allowed himself to be captured and used as a pack mule. But thank God for that because he might just be one of the only ones to actually get anything in depth in terms of the skill level of these kids. Ghost was friendly, non threatening, engaging and talkative. He was one of the few really likable guys he had. If anyone could get an inside track on these kids, he would. One thing was clear: this Platoon was disciplined and trained for ordinary missions. They operated far above what he’d normally expect from Privates. The 3 man squads were currently hidden in a 180 degree arc around the compound’s perimeter. Like they knew where the compound was from the very start. Like they’d had a plan. And intel, except Gregory knew that wasn’t the program…unless Collins had lied to him, which was unlikely. “Sir, we’ve got a vehicle coming.” “Well this day just keeps getting better. I should charge Collins double.” Gregory said to no one in particular. “Doesn’t look like they’re in the mood to stage a rescue op of their man. Let’s bring them in. The last three will show up eventually. I have a feeling they’re not far away, and watching everything. Take a plate of food to our captive Private. Let’s see if that coaxes them in. If not, round them up. Day’s getting late.” “My pleasure, Sir.” Jackson said before darting down the steps of the tower. “Let’s go see who our guests are, Vince.” Gregory said to the other man as he walked to the steps himself. ******************* “They’re going to see the fire and the smoke.” Weeble said. Sleeper shrugged. “We’re not hard to find.” Sleeper said, watching Zeus field dress the buck they’d killed. They got lucky, finding this buck struggling with his antlers caught in the fork of a tree. “Besides, you want to eat, right?” Weeble’s stomach growled, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I’ll take that as a yes. But first, go do recall. There’s enough here for everyone.” Sleeper continued. Weeble darted off in the direction of the compound to signal the first squad back to their location. One man from that squad would go to the next squad’s position and relay, and so on. Sleeper looked over at their captive. “What channel have they switched to?” He asked for the twentieth time. The man shrugged. “Come on, Nancy. This doesn’t have to be difficult. I just want to make sure my guys get a meal in them, then we’ll all walk into your base like good little soldiers. We’re here, we have no where else to go. We’ll even let you go to report.” Sleeper coaxed the captive who was tied hand and foot. They’d taken no chances and hog tied him. “We know the drill, the enemy has comms, radio silence and a new channel for anything critical. There’s nothing critical now, there is no radio chatter for us to find. We’re all here, right where you wanted us to be. We can’t get intel. But we can radio in and begin negotiations. You guys have the upper hand and we both know your side is only waiting to see what we’ll do. Nice trick putting Assmunch front and center there. But we don’t need to rescue him. None of us are going anywhere except where you want us to be. Game’s up.” Nancy blinked slowly, as if bored. Sleeper sighed. “Look, you get to tell the story however you want to, we won’t say a word. You just got unlucky when we set Weeble on you. You’re the one who made the bad call to let him lead you into Zeus. We all know you didn’t expect us to have the training. You should be mad at your commander for not briefing you properly. You’d have done alright if you’d met up with one of the other squads. And we sincerely appreciate you not going for blood, we know in a real fight we stood no chance.” The lump on Nancy’s cheek was going to turn into an angry bruise. “Zeus got lucky hitting you with Weeble’s ruck like that. For a big guy, he’s got fast reflexes. Sorry about having to drag you, but you were out and we couldn’t carry you and our gear. Come on. We aren’t the enemy.” He watched Nancy’s eyes gaze off, as if lost in thought. Playing the scenarios in his head most likely. Sleeper gave him time. “Get the fire going, Addison. I’ll slice it thin so it cooks faster. We should be able to eat most of it. The rest we’ll bring with us.” Zeus said. Sleeper set to the shavings with his sparker, blowing on the mound when it caught then added dry tinder to the small flames as well as bark and twigs. In less than a minute the flames were big enough to add the smaller branches and wood. Unlike their camp out in the state park, there was no flat slate stone in the area they could use for a cooking surface. “He’s useless Zeus. We should just let him run back home.” Sleeper said. Zeus shrugged. Soon, Weeble came back with Puta and Dimples and they all grabbed chunks of meat from Zeus to hang over the fire. Sleeper took turns feeding Zeus bites as he continued butchering the carcass of the buck. Gradually the other Bravos filtered in and took their place around the fire. Sleeper watched Weeble take a strip of cooked meat over to Nancy who turned his head away when Weeble offered him a bite. Sleeper shook his head. He watched his brothers devour the meat like rabid wolves. “Eat fast. They should be sending out a team to round us up by now. Either that, or they’re going to attack. Let’s not get caught with our pants down. And don’t overload.” Sleeper called out. He really didn’t have to tell them to hurry. Half of them barely chewed the meat before gulping it down. Cellblock spoke up just as he finished his meal. “Let’s just walk in the front door. We’re all bushed, let’s find out what all this is about.” Nancy let out a sarcastic laugh. “You’re tired? After a half day’s walk in the woods?” He grinned. “I can’t wait. This is going to truly suck for you soft little babies.” “Says the man who didn’t carry 45 pounds on his back all day.” Shark pointed out. “45? You don’t even have plates, full mags, a full camelback. You’re babies. Don’t worry. Well show you what tired is.” Nancy retorted. Sleeper traded a look with Cellblock. The first clue. Sleeper gave the handsignal for squad leaders to meet before stepping away. Zeus stood up and held out his field knife with bloody hands to Alaska to finish with the carcass. After the squad leaders were gathered, Cellblock spoke first. “Our guy was pretty talkative. I like him, he’s friendly.” “Did he say what we’re doing here?” Shark asked. “Training. He didn’t say what kind, but he did say it was supposed to toughen us up.” Cellblock answered. “He said today was all about evaluation.” “Which means we fucked up.” Shark said. “We played this wrong by showing our skill level.” MiniHulk nodded. “We’re going to get hit hard.” He took a deep breath and threw his ugly head back. For a guy with almost no neck he seemed to have no trouble moving his blocky caveman head around. Sleeper heard leaves crunching behind him, and he turned to see Bootlicker walking up to the group. “I hope you worked your magic and found us some info, Bootlicker.” Bootlicker grinned. “Oh, I’ve got info. I meant to tell Assmunch but we never got time. I looked through our file in Ulrich’s office.” No one was surprised Bootlicker found his way into the Training Regiment Commander’s office. “We have a file?” Cellblock said with suspicion. “Yes. You’re not going to like it though.” Bootlicker replied. “Fuck. I wish Assmunch was here.” Sleeper said. “What’s the file?” He said with surrender in his voice. “We’re part of a Pentagon test program.” Bootlicker said. “What kind of program?” Cellblock asked. “Homo’s in the military.” Bootlicker said with a matter of fact tone. Cellblock looked at Shark, MiniHulk, Zeus and Sleeper. “But we’re not homos.” He said it casually, as if it was just another basic fact, unbothered by the implication or the association. “Charlies are in the program too. I didn’t see anything on the Alphas or Deltas, but it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out they’re in the program, we were all together in Germany. I guess since it was just Bravos and Charlies in the Airborne Course they only gave Ulrich information on us.” Bootlicker continued, ignoring Cellblock. “Major Collins is running the program.” “Fuck me.” Sleeper breathed out. “You’re in the right Platoon for that, apparently.” Shark said with a chuckle. “Did the file say how many of us are gay?” “No. But we know Puta is. Maybe Wanker, and Troll sure likes getting Wanker to suck his dick. It doesn’t matter.” Bootlicker answered. Cellblock nodded. “Yeah, that’s not the real problem. What if we get known as the Homo Platoon? Who knows about this, Bootlicker?” “Program is Classified, but not Top Secret. So not many, and it’s definitely not general knowledge.” Bootlicker explained. “Probably just command.” Cellblock hissed. “Bootlicker… you looked at Classified documents? And now you’re telling us? We’ll all hang for this.” He said in a whisper. “Then you better not tell anyone.” Bootlicker said with a grin. “And why are you whispering?” “Because I don’t want to go to jail, fuckwad. And we have to tell Assmunch!” Cellblock argued in a heated whisper. “No one’s going to jail, Cellblock. Relax. Man, you’re way too uptight.” Bootlicker replied. “Yeah, Assmunch will know what to do.” Shark said. “I don’t like that we could get a reputation. Some of us are set on re-upping. I have to do eight to get the G.I. Bill stuff they promised.” “Me too.” Cellblock said. “What do you think about this, Sleeper?” MiniHulk asked. “I…”. Sleeper paused. In truth, he didn’t know how he felt. He didn’t care about the program. Or rather, he didn’t care that it was a study of Homosexuals in the Military. He actually liked the training and getting to hang out and work with the Bravos. But he knew he didn’t have a future in the military so any reputation or career roadblock wasn’t a threat for him like it was for the Bravos. Their nervousness was understandable. What would Assmunch do? “This is what we signed up for.” He began. “We all volunteered for this.” Cellblock interrupted. “I wouldn’t have if they told me what it was for.” Sleeper held up a hand. “Doesn’t matter Quincy. It’s a done deal, you can’t back out. Actually, I don’t know about that, we probably could back out, if we were willing to let Collins know that we know about the study program. But that would mean we had info we shouldn’t have. The Major seems like a good guy, but he’s career military and someone will get punished for this. If it’s us, we’ll probably just be booted. So I don’t see that as an option. We’re stuck for now, right?” “I guess.” Cellblock answered. Shark nodded while MiniHulk just shrugged. Sleeper continued. “Second, we’re getting training NONE of us would be getting if we weren’t in the program. And C, I don’t know about you guys, but I love the Bravos. I love being here, I love going through this with all of you. I don’t want to be anywhere else. Number four - they probably offered this to plenty other troops, we’re the ones who said yes, and while some of us were selected because of being gay, we don’t know who that is, or if we have any others besides Puta. Which means no one else will know either, especially because it’s Classified. Once they’re done with the program and get what they need, our file will go into a drawer in an unlabeled filing cabinet in the basement of the Pentagon and no one will look at anything but the report conclusions ever again.” Bootlicker nodded. “I don’t think our selection was random. Usually studies have control groups and test groups, and I don’t think we’re a control group. Maybe the Alphas and Deltas are the control, maybe regular Army is the control, who knows? The file didn’t lay out how the study was created, just the purpose. It’s probably just a basic briefing for Ulrich and the inclusive file is in Collins’ hands. And we aren’t mentioned specifically by name so Ulrich doesn’t even know which of us is gay, just that some of us COULD be. Ulrich did have a bunch of information on our comings and goings, performance at Airborne, how we interact with each other, fights, arguments, how Assmunch usually resolves everything or tasks us. The cadre loved us, by the way. Called us ‘dedicated soldiers’. The best part? We’re slotted for Ranger School.” Sleeper held his hands up as if to say ‘See? I’m right.’ “Are you going to tell Wanker, Bootlicker?” Shark asked. “Did the file say how he’s been sucking dick and taking it up the ass?” “Nah.” Bootlicker said. “I told him it doesn’t matter if everyone’s cool with it, he can’t be open about it. So he’s been careful, which is what I’m training him for. Our activities are secret ops, and that includes his extra-curricular activities. He doesn’t need to know about the program. No one but us and Assmunch needs to know. We don’t need anyone fucking up and letting it slip. We need to play this smart, ride it out and see where it takes us. If THEY know that WE know they’ll either drop us back into the regular ranks of infantry, or send us all back where we came from.” Cellblock reluctantly nodded. Shark seemed to be giving it some thought. “We don’t really have a lot of choices here.” Sleeper said. “Do you think Weeble’s gay?” Shark asked. “Why? You want some of that?” MiniHulk said with a smile. Shark laughed. “Not into dudes, you ugly fuck. No, just wondering about that guy that came for our graduation. They seemed pretty tight.” Sleeper sighed. “Let’s not go around trying to figure out who’s gay. If anyone is, let them keep their secret. All of us have stuff we want to keep private, at least for now. We’ll know when they want us to know. It’s not going to change anything, I’m not going to treat anyone differently, just like whatever Wanker does isn’t a problem as long as it doesn’t fuck with what we need to do and it doesn’t pull us down. We don’t know even a little bit of whatever Bootlicker and Wanker get up to, which is their secret to keep unless they want to tell us. So same thing goes for any other secret we might have. That’s our plan. And Bravo business stays Bravo business, agreed?” “Yeah, Brotherhood matters stay in the Brotherhood.” Cellblock agreed. “You’re right.” Shark said. “It’s not a big deal, we can’t do anything about it, and it’s a Bravo thing besides. If it needs to change, Assmunch will help us figure it out.” MiniHulk nodded. “Bravos for life. I feel like the minute I was put with you guys being in the Army just made sense. I love the shit we do, I love doing it with you guys.” “We’re not gonna have a group hug, are we? You bunch of homos.” Shark said, making everyone laugh. “Zeus, you good? Need to add anything.” Sleeper asked. “No, Sleeper. I’m good.” Zeus answered with his usual flat lack of emotion. Which meant he didn’t have a problem with any of it. Zeus wasn’t usually in on the squad leader meetings but he needed to get used to giving input. One on one with Sleeper Zeus didn’t have an issue with speaking up. But when the Bravos were present, he rarely spoke. Sleeper understood now that it was a confidence thing. Zeus didn’t feel like he had anything important to contribute, and that the rest of the Bravos usually covered everything he would say anyway. And, he was happy doing whatever the others decided. If he didn’t like it, he would simply not do it, like drinking alcohol or being stupid. “Okay, so once everyone is done eating, we load up and walk in the front door?” Sleeper moved forward. “Yeah, what else we gonna do?” Cellblock answered. “May as well get this punishment suck started.” Shark replied. MiniHulk nodded. “Not really much choice, is there?” They made their way back to the other Bravos who were slowing down on the deer meat. “What’s the plan?” Troll asked. A voice from someone hidden in the woods nearby called out. “The plan is you all go back to your families in box with a flag draped on it. You fucking stupid morons! You’re all dead. Where’s your perimeter guard?” A figure stepped out from behind a thick oak. “Sarge? What are you doing here?” Sleeper called out. The scowl on his face deepened as he watched the Bravos scramble to their feet and assume parade rest. “At least you haven’t forgotten THAT.” Sergeant Walker growled as he walked up. “You disappoint me, men. I thought I hammered it deep enough into your empty skulls that YOU DON’T FUCKING ENCAMP WITHOUT SETTING A WATCH! No fucking wonder they flew me across an entire… FUCKING … ocean to babysit you ugly useless pieces of shit. I wouldn’t allow any of you to exist on the bottom of my fucking boots. What a SPECTACULAR waste of my time and of the Army’s money. Your fathers should have jacked off into the fucking toilet and flushed all of you into a septic tank. What the fuck did I do to deserve this?” “We -“ Sleeper started. “DID I ASK YOU A QUESTION, GRUNT?” Sarge trotted up to within an inch of Sleeper and screamed into his face, coating it with a liberal amount of spittle. “WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DEAD MEN DON’T SPEAK YOU SHUT YOUR FUCKING DICKHOLE OR SO HELP ME GOD I WILL SHOVE MY BOOT DOWN YOUR FUCKING THROAT!” Sarge was driving himself up into a frenzied rage, and all of them knew what that meant. On the first circuit around the compound they saw Sarge helping himself to some of the deer meat, cooking it on a branch over the flames. On the second circuit around the compound they saw him sitting with Assmunch talking, and the deer carcass was gone. After the third time around Assmunch waved them over and they did fifty burpees and fifty mountain climbers, which ended them. “Set up camp.” Sarge ordered. “Here? But this is -“ Bootlicker tried to stop Wanker, but wasn’t fast enough. “YOU PICKED THIS GODFORSAKEN POSITION! AROUND THE COMPOUND THREE TIMES. Get the fuck out of my sight.” Sarge screamed. As the Bravos stumbled away for another brutal run you could hear Wanker taking a load of abuse. No one spoke when they returned and immediately began setting up camp. The location was definitely not suitable for camp. It was on a slope, the small clearing wasn’t large enough and the trees too close together, the ground was uneven, and there were way too many blind spots. Only groans could be heard, along with grunts of effort. Assmunch tasked three at time to walk the perimeter and keep watch. The sun had set by the time they were through and only the fire provided light for them to see. The temperature was dropping with every minute. “Grab some water and sit down. Class starts now.” Sarge said. When everyone was settled, he continued. “Private Brickmann, distribute the handbooks.” Each of them received a RANGER’S HANDBOOK. “This is your bible. You will memorize the Ranger Creed tonight. Each of you will recite the Creed by memory before you sleep. Private Brickmann, read it out loud. After you finish, you’ll begin Montelongo.” They took out their flashlights and opened their handbooks. They would get no sleep that night

LAMONT Private Nathan Lamont knew he had to be careful, but he had a plan. He was overjoyed when the Charlies were given a four day pass after their Airborne graduation with the big city of Atlanta, Georgia so close by. He’d checked with everyone to see what their plans were and wasn’t surprised when everyone else decided to stay local to party and relax. He could get a hotel in Atlanta in Midtown and no one he knew would be around that he had to avoid. He would stay in the Cheshire Motor Inn, a place with a particularly seedy reputation within walking distance of the new bar The Heretic. He also wanted to hit the Atlanta Eagle, another bar that catered to the Leather scene. Two of those places were on the restricted list the Army maintained to keep soldiers away from unsavory and illegal activities. Lamont was well informed about how to avoid notice and it was never any problem to keep under the radar. His dick remained hard from the moment he decided on his plan, but he had no outlet for his sexual frustration at the moment. His usual go-to, Valentino, had been avoiding him ever since the first week at Airborne and he’d come to the conclusion that the pretty, agreeable, and energetic blonde soldier found another dick to fuck his amazing ass. That was a shame, because Valentino was a fun fuck, simultaneously submissive and eager. Even so, Valentino was strictly a bottom, and Lamont had his cum-filled balls set on getting fucked as much as he did the fucking. His opportunities for sex were rare and he had to get as much as he could in the next three days. Lamont easily found the bulletin board at Benning on which rides were posted that were available to Atlanta, both official and personal and he selected one at random. A Corporal Etlinger wanted $20 in gas money, which was a little expensive, but the ride met Lamont’s other requirements. He didn’t want an official ride that would put him in Atlanta, and a Corporal was low enough rank that a Private from a different unit riding with him wouldn’t raise eyebrows. And hopefully the Corporal wouldn’t have a lot of questions about his intentions even though he had a story prepared about visiting a friend who had moved there. His last task was to check his kit, gear, and equipment into the storage depot on post where soldiers could drop off their stuff when they went TDY or to a special course elsewhere that didn’t require them to have their gear. He was only going to bring his small backpack with a couple changes of civilian clothes. Corporal Etlinger’s glittery metallic brown Mustang with white pinstriping down the side pulled up to the curb two minutes before 1400 hrs. Lamont saw an arm wearing a blue plaid flannel shirt reach out to the passenger door to open it. “You Lamont?” The voice called out. “Yeah, that’s me.” Lamont answered, stepping towards the open passenger door. “Get in, let’s get on the road.” Etlinger said. Lamont pushed his backpack behind the passenger seat into the back. “Bucket seats? Nice!” He commented. “Bitchin ride, dude.” He said as he climbed in. “Thanks. Only reason I signed up for this bullshit.” Etlinger responded. “Don’t slam the door.” Lamont had lucked out. Etlinger was a fucking fox. His loose fit, straight leg Levis looked new, and under his open front plaid flannel button down, a crew neck black tee shirt hugged his somewhat muscular chest before tucking into his jeans. He had a heavy gold chain encircling his neck. Etlinger’s brown hair and brown eyes gazed at him with intensity. Handsome, but not pretty and just rough enough around the edges to look like good blue collar stock, the look was enhanced by the five o’clock shadow on Etlinger’s jaw. Hmmm. Now that he was inside the Mustang, Etlinger’s five o’clock shadow looked clipped, edged and cultivated rather than natural, which was a turn off. Lamont didn’t like it when guys tried too hard to look good, or affected stuff he considered decoration like some loud and flashy bird doing a mating dance. He did have great teeth and a nice body, but his eyebrows looked sculpted and shaped. Lamont revised his earlier assessment, Etlinger obviously thought of himself as some kind of player, some hot shit asshole. The gold chain, eyebrows, stubble, glowing white Nike high tops with the laces loose rather than tied, the tongue pulled forward - fucking Ugh. The only thing missing was a cut in the eyebrow to mimic a scar, and some line patterns etched into the buzzed hair just above his ear like Vanilla Ice. Lamont imagined the only reason he didn’t see any of that was grooming regs wouldn’t allow it. He wondered what Etlinger did in the Army, he seemed to have way too much time to focus on how he looked, plus a shit corporal getting a Friday afternoon off? “Seatbelt. I don’t need any MP bullshit.” Etlinger ordered. “Where’s the $20?” Probably some admin job, command staff, his CO away for the week for one reason or another, his Sergeant or LT taking the opportunity for a short day, long weekend for themselves. Lamont scrambled to grab the belt and secure it. That was another thing, Etlinger was talking to him like he was irritated, ordering him rather than asking. And fucking Corporals didn’t get to order fucking Privates to do fucking anything. They could, sure…if they wanted to get a reputation as a dick, but it was unlikely that the Private wasn’t going to call their bullshit. But Lamont was just here for a ride so he pulled out his wallet and fished a twenty out and handed it to Etlinger. That’s fine, it was just a couple hours or so. They didn’t have to talk. Lamont looked out the passenger window. He didn’t miss that Etlinger hadn’t said ‘thanks’ when he handed him the money. His opinion of the Corporal fell even further. The drive to I-85 went by fast, neither of them saying anything. Even if Lamont wanted to say something, the unrecognizable hip hop group blasting through the stereo speakers made it impossible, with the thump of a subwoofer (probably in the trunk) buffeting his body. He couldn’t even decipher the words or what the song was about. Lamont wondered how much Etlinger spent on all this image bullshit. Probably everything he made. Well, they didn’t have to be friends. Lamont relaxed his attitude. Who cared anyway? He realized he was being bitchy because Etlinger disappointed him after his initial assessment and went from fox to fuckwad. The Army was full of Etlingers. Young idiots with the first real steady money they’d ever had and poor financial choices quickly followed. He laid his head back and closed his eyes. It had been an early morning. He didn’t really sleep, just dozed. He was in an unfamiliar car, with someone he didn’t know (and didn’t much like) which meant his training wouldn’t let his brain let go of all awareness. Infantry never rests unless your brothers are around you to take watch and let you collapse unconscious for a couple hours of good sleep. Worst way to fall asleep, and the best sleep you get. Nothing better than your lights just going out and you remember nothing until you get shaken awake two hours later. So yeah, he wasn’t sleeping but he didn’t need to. Another thing you learned out on patrol was how to close your eyes and rest your body and brain without actually falling asleep. It could bring you back to almost human when you were too exhausted to even move. He felt the car slow and opened his eyes. They were coming to a traffic light, on a street crowded with buildings. Probably downtown Atlanta. He reached over and turned down the radio a bit, receiving a dirty look from Etlinger. “Hey, any chance you can drop me off near my hotel? It’s off of Cheshire Bridge Rd, near Piedmont.” “Sure, give me a roadie and I’ll drop you off.” Etlinger replied with a smirk. “Seriously man?” Lamont said with a scowl. “I’m not sucking your dick, dude.” Rule Number One: No military. Well, except for Valentino, but Lamont knew Valentino wasn’t going to say anything. This guy? Absofuckinglutelynot. It wouldn’t be the first time he had to walk a few miles. Hell, walking an actual sidewalk was a luxury compared to rucking over terrain. Just the thought of getting near this fake-ass poser’s dick made his stomach turn. Lamont was proud to be a slut, but he was a slut with standards. “Let me out here.” He said. “It was a joke man.” Etlinger complained in sullen accusation, as if it was Lamont who crossed the line. He reached behind the seat and pulled up his backpack, then leveled Hip Hop White Boy with a look that promised violence. He could take this asshole apart with one hand without breaking a sweat. “Pull over, fuckface. I’m not asking.” Lamont’s patience was gone. “Okay, man. Relax.” Funny, Etlinger’s entire tone and demeanor changed completely. His cockiness was non-existent, his face no longer held that cultivated jutting jaw, one eyebrow raised, no fake snarl on his lips. He literally deflated. Now Lamont could see the actual person Etlinger was, and he looked sad and pathetic. Without his image act, the corporal was not impressive at all, just some poor kid (hah! Etlinger had to be three or four years older than Lamont, but Lamont couldn’t help seeing a kid). All veneer, no substance. What the hell was happening to the Army? Lamont also felt a little shook with the realization that people older than him, with more rank, weren’t necessarily better people with their shit together. He shouldn’t be surprised by now. The worst was realizing that about a superior officer in your chain of command. When that happened, it really stung because without competent leadership you were surely dead, and you began doubting your training, which in turn undermined your confidence in your missions and objectives. And those were the BIG 3 in Infantry: Training, Mission, and Objectives. Etlinger pulled into a parking lot, some fast food place called The Varsity. He’d eaten before leaving the base, so he wasn’t hungry. As soon as the Mustang stopped, he popped the lock and opened the door to climb out. “Look, dog…” Etlinger started. Lamont just about threw up in his mouth. Dog? Was that some kind of insult? He ignored the idiot. He made sure to slam the door before walking away. Back at Benning Lamont had studied a map of Atlanta, and the area he was going to be staying in, so he knew roughly where he needed to be. All he had to do was figure out where he was currently. He walked to the nearest intersection, which was not far. He was on North Avenue and the Interstate wasn’t far away, about a block or two. So, he was Southwest of his target location. He started walking. He reached the Cheshire Motor Inn at 1830 hrs just as it was getting dark. The walk was pleasant. Neighborhoods, a huge park, strip malls, offices, historic homes, just like any other American city. He checked in using his fake I.D. He was 22 year old Abel Calloway, from Fort Wayne, Indiana. His fake was professionally done, and had cost him $1100 but it was money well spent as he got a birth certificate, a social security card, and a driver’s license, all valid. Abel Calloway was real, or at least he would have been if he had lived past the age of 8. The Cheshire Motor Inn was a relic of the 1950’s, it had a couple two story buildings side by side, then one single story row across the parking lot. Your room opened out onto the parking lot, a single big window beside the door. But Lamont didn’t care about any of that. What he did care about was that the Motel was cruisy. And close to the bars and other places he wanted to hit. As he was walking to his room, he noticed a man in his late 20’s or early 30’s unloading a suitcase from his Chrysler LeBaron. The suit and tie, the LeBaron, the Motel, a worn suitcase… salesman most likely, saving money by getting a cheap Motel room. The man caught Lamont staring and nodded in greeting. Lamont nodded back. Not bad. Not the best looking guy, but hey, dick was dick, and he wasn’t gross or ugly, just out of shape. Besides, the gold wedding ring on his left hand made him a desirable target all by itself. Lamont didn’t necessarily have a thing for married guys, it was that they were clean and safe for the most part. Married guys were just as worried about catching something and bringing it back to their wives as Lamont was. Plus, married guys were primarily straight guys who just needed a little relief, or to get their freak on once in a while. Whether they were suppressing actual homosexual feelings was something Lamont didn’t think about too much. It didn’t matter why, what mattered was there was an awful lot of otherwise straight married men out there who didn’t mind getting off with another guy. But there were two other things Lamont appreciated about married guys - first, they almost always topped or wanted a blowjob and rarely reciprocated, and second, they were usually older guys. He guessed it took some time for your marriage to become boring enough to find some way to get that thrill again that wasn’t happening with your wife. The salesman was a possibility, but later. First order of business, get a shower, make sure he was cleaned out, then something light to eat. A restaurant called The Collonade was nearby, but it looked expensive. Real restaurants where you sat down and a waiter brought your food were all too expensive for his Private’s pay. On his way to the motel just up the block he had walked past a mom and pop Italian place he’d try instead. He could probably have dinner for ten bucks. After eating, he popped a couple breath mints before walking inside the adult novelty shop across the street. He needed lube. It was a shame he’d have to throw out whatever he didn’t use, for one practical reason and one personal reason: Carrying an unsecured liquid in your gear was a recipe for disaster. You may as well just take the top off and pour it all over your stuff yourself. And second - he sure as hell didn’t want anyone seeing him with lube. All sorts of questions would come up. The whole idea of lube was still a new phenomenon for the average normal American. Deviants and perverts were the ones who found it necessary to use assistance for sex, like toys and lube. It was getting more common, but still one of those ‘better not anyone know’ type of things. While trying to decide on which brand to buy, he notice a sign behind the register that said ‘$5 minimum purchase for tokens’ and asked the clerk what the tokens were for. “Video booths behind that door over there.” The clerk indicated a door off to the side of the shop. Lamont perked up at hearing that. “I’ll take $5, thanks. And the WET with the blue top, small bottle.” He preferred Wet, just seemed a little more slippery and long lasting. There were other lubes that just became sticky or dried out in the air. Once his purchased was made, he went to the door. It took his eyes about ten seconds to adjust fully from the glaring fluorescent lights out in the store to the darkness of the area behind the door. A dark, seedy Candyland awaited. The place was moderately busy, with about sixteen or so booths arranged in a small maze. There were some guys leaning against the wall near the entry door, but Lamont could see more bodies wandering around further back. The sound of porn could be heard from somewhere nearby. He decided to just walk the place first, get an idea of the layout, as well as check out the clientele before he made any decisions. He felt the eyes of the three guys near the entrance checking him out, and he gave a mental smile but ignored them. He wouldn’t have to chase anyone down, not in here. The entire place was painted black, with the only light being an ‘EXIT’ sign and small lights above the booth doors indicating if one was ‘In Use’, as well as the ambient glow on the ceiling from the tvs playing porn in the booths. Just enough to see someone’s basic features. The hallways were small, making it difficult to pass by another person without touching. The smell was familiar, and his body had a now automatic response of surging heartbeat, increased blood pressure, shallow breathing and an instantly hard dick. It was the smell of sex, exclusively male sex, an underlying scent of men, and cum mixed with basic antiseptic Lysol. Every single Adult Theater or place where multitudes of men had sex smelled exactly like this, and the scent became associated with sexual thrill, orgasm, the hunt, hard cock, grunts of pleasure, hunger, thrusting anonymously with strangers, complete abandon and fifteen other now automatic reflex thoughts and feelings. Smell was one of the most powerful human senses in terms of automatic nervous system response. Smell was what warned you a predator was near, spiking your adrenaline immediately. The smell of food spurring hunger. Rot or death indicating possible danger, disease, revulsion. Perfume or cologne signaling seduction and your guard relaxed. Every single smell in the entire world forced your body to react before your mind even translated what the smell meant. Before you knew what the world was, as a newborn infant, the smell of your mother instilled comfort and safety. Smell could trump rational observation. It was why they were taught very early on that deodorant and cologne weren’t used when you were on mission, on patrol, or out in the field. The enemy could catch the scent on the wind, and a smart enemy could determine your location. Simple human sweat could be anyone, including a fellow enemy or soldier, but created scents were very specific. You still didn’t want to get too ripe though, but dirt, sand, some leafy plant with a strong odor usually took care of the worst ripeness. Part of their field training included using scent to recon and track. Smoke from a fire, oil and metal from heavy machinery, a cigarette, food cooking. They were taught that cigarette smoking was forbidden in most situations for that very reason, and that frequent smokers had a deadened sense of smell that couldn’t pick up subtle clues that others could and that the smell of a burning cigarette traveled a very long distance. As with the guys by the entry door, Lamont felt the eyes rake over him in the dark and the focused attention sent a single message: fresh meat. He’d have to be careful. The pushy ones sometimes made it difficult for others to approach him. A slut with standards chose the daily special, rather than being chosen by them. Sometimes Lamont was direct, when he wanted to fuck. Being assertive and dominant sent a clear message who was taking care of who. Which mean the opposite behavior signaled a willingness to get fucked or suck some dick. It was always better to draw the nervous ones in with a little shyness, but repeated looks that darted away when you were caught looking indicated interest, and promoted increased assertiveness by your target. Sometimes Lamont wanted eager, desperate and hungry. But today he wanted reluctant, nervous, doubtful. He wanted the ones who were picky, and he knew he could get them. There were always two or three in places like this. Guys who hated the necessity of having to resort to anonymous sex, who hadn’t yet reconciled the feelings they got from trashy anonymous sex with the regretful thoughts of self recrimination they had for not liking vanilla sex as much. Lamont knew he could inspire desire, just by being young and in incredible shape, for men like those. His youth, at 20 years old, indicated he was relatively pristine, they’d read it as inexperienced, and if there was anything that type wanted it was a fresh, young, clean body. He’d learned sex club etiquette not long after he turned 18, but there were additional rules in Adult arcades and theaters. A direct look before entering a booth said ‘follow me in, or take the next booth for gloryhole action.’ Once in a booth, if you hadn’t checked out the person in the adjoining booth first, a quick glance through the hole would tell you the level of interest, whether you were interested yourself, and what type of action they might be looking for. Stroking your hard dick indicated you wanted your dick sucked or to fuck. Just being in a booth with a gloryhole indicated you wanted to be watched at least, and were potentially looking for action. If you wanted to provoke, all you had to do was choose a movie and start rubbing your cock through your pants. There actually were booths that were completely private if you were just there to watch Schoolgirl Vixen III take it up the ass while you beat your sad, neglected meat in a place that would get you excommunicated from your church if they knew you couldn’t even bring yourself to ejaculate on the floor and instead held a wad of paper towels you’d hastily grabbed from the bathroom to hide your shameful orgasm. After all, Jesus might watch you jack off, but flaunting your pleasure weakness by spraying your seed everywhere was stepping over the line. There were plenty of those types that frequented places like this too. They could be spotted by the avoided eye contact, nervousness and the way they made a beeline towards a booth. But cruising had it’s own unwritten rules, developed over decades of secret, hidden places that catered to the world of men who didn’t want intimacy or involvement. Even back when homosexuality was against the law there were places men could go for anonymous sex in which neither party knew who the other was, thereby avoiding exposure. Masked parties, back rooms, secret clubs, abandoned buildings, infrequently visited locations like parks at night, wharves and piers with cargo creating dark and hidden areas, truck stops and gas station bathrooms. Lamont figured a man’s sexual needs invariably drove him to find any outlet for his desire, and while a minority percentage of men were devoted to women in general, and eventually to one woman in particular, the vast majority of men just wanted to get off with anything that had a hole. They’d settle for a women to provide a family, comfort, and taking care of the home. But for them, it was only a matter of incentive and desperation to determine the degree to which they’d sink to have the primordial thrill of spilling a load of jizz from their balls into just about anyone, whether it be a whore, a mistress, a cocksucker or some random stranger they’d never meet again. In video arcades, once in a booth, not pulling your dick out, or sitting on the bench or chair meant you were the one looking to service cock. Or it could mean you were just passing time in a booth, or waiting for just the right guy. Lamont hated the ones that just sat in a booth without doing anything. It basically took two booths out of commission. If all you wanted to do was sit there, get one of the booths without gloryholes. He’d once thought maybe they just wanted to watch another guy jack off without any interest in actually having physical contact, but fuck…everyone that came to these places wouldn’t just want to have someone watch them jack off, would they? Up ahead stood someone that immediately drew Lamont’s interest. The way he was leaning against the wall, affecting a casual boredom and disinterest piqued Lamont’s curiosity. The low visibility didn’t reveal a lot except the guy’s basic build which was decent enough to be suitable for Lamont’s needs - trim waist, average but developed shoulders, just slightly smaller than Lamont. As he got closer he saw short, close cropped dark hair and a goatee, along with a very proud nose. Handsome, maybe blue collar, kind of rough looking. Somewhere between late 20’s and mid 30’s. Something about him started Lamont’s cock dripping. Damn, he had to reel this one in. He knew the play, the guy’s boredom said Lamont would have to seduce. Lamont let his eyebrows relax and opened his lips slightly as he passed him, putting out an innocent vibe. He changed his shoulders from confident to uncertain and meek, he slowed his stride. When the guy’s eyes met his, Lamont looked down. Looking down was ‘damn I was caught, I’m scared’. Looking away was sometimes dismissive and sometimes uninterested, but it always signaled confidence. Lamont wanted this one to think he was prey, so confidence was the wrong play. He waited a three count before performing a quick look as he passed. That was important, the second look. The second look said ‘I really liked what I saw.’ Lamont turned the corner and stopped. His heart was beating. He loved the game, the hunt, the chase, the uncertainty and potential. Would the guy follow? Lamont suddenly thought if the guy was following, giving in too easily would make the guy dismiss him. His intuition was something he could rely on, it had never failed him, and it was finely developed from the time he was 12 and began learning the ropes of seducing his teammates on the swim team, and some of their dads. But his proudest moment was seducing his coach when he was 16. Lamont inhaled. He could smell the scent of someone’s recent orgasm, probably from the booth at his back. Cum, that heady odor a man exuded as he was driven to shoot his seed, it all floated in the air around him. He pushed off the wall and walked slowly. He didn’t look back. If the guy was following him, it would be better if he thought Lamont didn’t know he was being followed. Hunters wanted to catch their prey, feel powerful doing it, getting a thrill from an unexpected attack. Lamont heard steps behind him. He moved aside to the row of three booths, trying to make himself small. He was a scared little baby animal, unsure of his environment, seeking safety. “‘Scuse me” a deep voice came from his left. Lamont let himself shrink further towards the wall. He pretended to be startled, flattening himself against the booth door behind him, which gave way and opened. He shot a shocked look to the man with the voice. It was his target. He darted inside and closed the door. If he was right, the booth next door would open in few seconds. Lamont reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple tokens to feed them into the machine. A porn started, some pretty blonde was getting SuperDicked by a black guy wearing a white tee shirt. She looked so small, his cock was fucking huge, stretching her pussy to the absolute limit. The scene panned out and there were four other huge black guys surrounding her. Lamont thought her pigtails were a nice touch, it made her look like she’d just turned 18 if not younger. Damn, that dude was giving it to her hard, and she was yelping. Poor little white girl, she was going to get fucked full of so much black cock. She probably wouldn’t make her Chemistry test tomorrow, so sad. She was going to get kicked off the cheerleading team! Lamont kind of hoped this was the kind of video where they fucked her full of cum, leaving her pussy dripping. But he knew the scene had just started, so he hit the ‘NEXT’ button while he waited for hot goatee guy to commit. Lamont bent over to look through the gloryholes on either side. Nothing yet on his left, where he expected goatee guy to come in. On the right was an even older guy, hard to tell, as all he saw was a decent six inch cock being stroked through the zipper fly of the guy’s jeans. Definitely straight. Straight guys loved pulling their cocks through their flys, as if exposing themselves more meant they wanted to do gay stuff. Still, the wedding ring, heavy watch, hairy arms, and large gut put the guy on Lamont’s list. Dick was dick, and clean married dick, even just six inches, was dick worth sucking. Guy probably wouldn’t fuck, Lamont knew the type. But a nice thick load of mid-life crisis and empty nest dissatisfaction would energize him for his night out later. Daddies were always so grateful. He heard the creak of the door to the booth to his left, and the latch click. He darted a quick look, noting the white tee shirt and Levi jeans matching goatee guy. Lamont immediately stood up and felt himself through his own jeans. Fuck, or get fucked? Goatee guy would decide. Lamont waited ten seconds, didn’t see the guy’s fingers come through the hole, so he bent over to take a look through the hole. Fucking Goddamn holy shit! Goatee guy had his pants pulled down to mid thigh stroking a thick eight incher. Lamont was done playing games, this was a cock prize, fucking FIRST PRIZE in the cock contest. But he didn’t lose his cool. The game was the game, the hunt was the hunt. Too forward, and the stud would bolt. He tentatively put his index finger on the rim of the hole, then pulled it back quickly. Hard to miss if Mr. BlueCollar Goatee was looking, which Lamont knew he was. Hell, Lamont could hear the lame dialogue of the porn BlueCollar Goatee was watching, and he sure as hell wasn’t watching Mrs. Bigtits tell the Plumber that her washing machine was leaking and all she wanted was to put another load in. But BlueCollar Goatee was playing the game too. Lamont watched while his stroking slowed, and he grabbed his balls and dick together, shaking it up and down. He expected Lamont to be watching, that’s what made Lamont’s heart skip a beat. Lamont felt his salivary glands release a gush of saliva. This dude had waited patiently for just the right guy to walk in, wanting someone who would appreciate the beauty of his perfect cock, his big hanging balls. Well, BlueCollar Goatee had hooked the right fish with his bait because Lamont knew exactly what this guy needed. And at that moment, Lamont knew if the guy wanted it raw, he would have it. His intuition was thrumming. There was a thrilling confidence, almost arrogance to this guy that Lamont loved. This one loved to fuck, loved his own dick and wanted to push it inside someone worthy. This was a guy who chose who he had sex with carefully, who didn’t just fuck any hole he could get, and Lamont knew he could get any hole he wanted in this place. He dripped masculinity and aloof confidence. Lamont knelt down in front of the glory hole and hooked his finger, keeping it there this time. He put his face close, so the guy knew what he was getting, a mouth, available, waiting and willing. And he knew which mouth it was, he’d seen Lamont dart inside the booth. There was only one reason BlueCollar Goatee was doing his dance. It was a message: show me you want it, because all eight inches wants you. The guy kept stroking slowly, obviously enjoying the tease. He squeezed towards the tip, producing a clear drop of pre cum before pointing his dick toward the hole. Lamont stared watching the thick fluid gather then start to descend, dripping in slow motion. He did the only thing he could, he opened his mouth and put his tongue out. BlueCollar stepped closer and wiped the head of his cock across Lamont’s tongue. Lamont was beyond the game now as his tongue retracted to savor the salty flavor of this magnificent man. Fuck, his fluid tasted unbelievable. He was lost now, succumbed to the wanting, the desire. The game was over. BlueCollar was going to sink his dick into his waiting mouth. His eyes barely saw through the top of the hole, but the hunger had a hold of him and the tease had him tunneled, everything in his focus was this man’s naked hips, his hairy wild bush, his thick rigid dick and the turgid penis grasped tightly in a masculine fist. The presence of tiny black hairs on the knuckles of BlueCollar’s hand sent Lamont into a spiral of lust. This was a man, a tough fucker who knew the value of what he held. He considered his cock as a trophy to be acquired, something for a winner, an achiever. Lamont knew that every cock he lusted after was on this pedestal, and BlueCollar loved the game, the hunt, just like he did, which only heightened Lamont’s lust. This was a competitor, and the challenge demanded he make the interaction as competitive as he could. So Lamont did the unexpected. He stood up and pushed his own impressive dick through the hole…because BlueCollar was being a tease, and this was the moment that would determine how their meeting happened. If BlueCollar was going to hold back, Lamont would press. Oh, he understood the value, the allure, the seduction of holding back, but it was time to engage, to breach… either BlueCollar wanted direct engagement or he wanted more. Lamont had decided a dick was penetrating one person or the other. And a young 20 year old iron-hard 7 inch curved cock would force BlueCollar Goatee to decide what he wanted more… hot young innocent mouth or hard dick. Lamont was ready for either but his preference was to be the one taking BlueCollar’s cock. He felt a hand stroke his cock, a good sign. BlueCollar wasn’t afraid to touch a dick. The stroking was… amateurish… perfunctory. Definitely a ‘not interested in that but still willing to play’ message. Lamont withdrew to find BlueCollar pushing his cock in almost right beside his. Fuck, here it was. Lamont dropped into a squat, pushing his mouth onto the hard dripping cock in front of him. He swallowed it half way, not wanting to send the message that he was experienced…yet. He let out a deliberate choke, gagging. “Fuck, you better suck that dick, boy. That’s what you wanted.” He heard BlueCollar say from the other side of the wall,. Lamont did another dive, as if he was eager to please, and choked again. “Yeah, choke on that cock. Go deeper, faggot.” Fuck…Lamont had hit the jackpot. A dominant, abusive straight dude in denial. Right off the bat he hooked a dude who was just waiting for some faggot hole to force his dick into. If there was any God looking out for him, this BlueCollar Goatee would fuck his raw dick violently up his ass as deep as he could force it and spew a healthy load of baby batter guts deep into Lamont’s willing and receptive fuckhole. In the age of AIDS, a raw fuck and ropes of straight cum were rare commodities. It almost never happened. Lamont’s intuition told him this was a guy who was either between girlfriends, or had decided fags would take his cum when women demanded a condom. The sexual world for straights had changed just as drastically after the mid 80’s when they figured out AIDS wasn’t just a gay disease. Now everyone was scared. Everyone was putting on condoms. Fucking dental dams were being used just for cunnilingus. Porn was changing, cumshots were never internal or near an opening. AIDS had changed everything. The throat slime was all over Lamont’s chin, and he had to back off the huge cock to take a breath. He looked over his shoulder and saw that six inch cock shoved through the hole. Guess that guy was watching the action after all. That was the benefit of being the middle booth in the glory hold triplet. What the fuck, why not. He stood up and went to suck old dude’s dick, bending over. BlueCollar could wait. He was hooked. Might be good for him to sit in frustration. Lamont didn’t play any games with six incher…he swallowed that whole, all the way down. It wasn’t too thick or unmanageable. Nice size. A mouthful. He knew his ass was facing BlueCollar’s gloryhole, deliberately. BlueCollar would have to make a decision. His cocksucker was otherwise occupied…what would he do? Oh, how unfortunate, there was only the untouched butthole of a 20 year old inexperienced youngster right here … what should I do? BlueCollar did what every hormone laden hardon encumbered male would do. He spit on his cock and pushed. Lamont was penetrated at both ends, the booth perfectly dimensioned for him to press his ass to the hole behind him and at his head. Fuck yeah. He had a moment of pure bliss. Cocks at both ends, and his favorite one in his ass, another in his mouth. If they came at the same time, in his holes, he’d cum without touching himself. He knew BlueCollar didn’t put on a condom, which frightened him and thrilled him at the same time. Fuck, what was he doing? The guy was a stranger. He couldn’t stop himself, even so. He knew if BlueCollar wanted to fuck his jizz deep in his ass he wouldn’t stop. He wanted that guy’s cum, he wanted it deep up his ass. Fuck, old guy in his mouth was welcome to shoot too. Old married guys who were gut-laden, wife and three kids, cock through his fly…he got relief maybe a couple times a year if he was lucky. Lamont would gladly swallow every swimmer the guy pumped out. BlueCollar was pumping head to balls when the older guy unloaded with a series of grunts into Lamonts mouth. It was sweet and thick, every successive volley heavier and more voluminous until Lamont’s mouth was filled with cum. Damn, the guy must have been saving that up for a while. Spit or swallow? Reason prevailed, and Lamont spit the wad of jizz out onto the floor. The fantasy was fine to entertain, actually sucking down a stranger’s load was something else entirely. As disappointing as it was, Lamont had to be careful. But the thick thrusting cock stretching his asshole was sending him into a state of abandon. It had been too long since he’d felt a raw dick up his ass. 8 months to be exact. He knew he was playing with fire and the danger element contributed to his heady, heightened arousal. BlueCollar was bouncing against the plywood wall of the booth, thrusting hard, not caring about the damage he might be doing to the young pliant hole on the other side. Fuck, BlueCollar was so deep. Lamont kept still, pressing his ass back against the hole, mentally willing the man to lose control and shoot. He could hit the bathroom after and expel the man’s seed, he told himself. That would reduce the risk, right? Yeah, that would be fine, no different than spitting a load out from his mouth. Lamont had always loved that place in between, the thrilling indecision where what your mind wanted disagreed with what your conscience told you should be done. It was the choice, the potential for complete satisfaction that remained just out of reach. It was leaving the decision to the very last minute, would BlueCollar pull out or would he seek to force his cum deep inside Lamont? Would Lamont even know the moment it was happening or would BlueCollar ejaculate silently without providing a clue? Had the man already cum and was he just fucking his deposited load into a frothy foam now? Lamont realized then that he didn’t care. The man was sexy, hot, virile and being inseminated by him was what Lamont craved. Fuck, he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t resist his basic nature. The game he played with himself was the most fun, how he told himself he wouldn’t be a complete whore when the real him understood he had no true control and that he would always take the risk. No, he’d say, not this time. This time I’ll be careful, I won’t do what I did before. But then he’d do it anyway because caution, safety, protection were just not ultimately satisfying. Most of the time in this day and age, the top made the decision for him, putting on a rubber before fucking, which did sooth Lamont and he did honestly love the rest of the sex, the kissing, the sweaty bodies, the grunting and feeling of a full, stretched ass, of being dominated and submitting himself to a man. All of that was wonderful and satisfying. Very few interactions resulted in what Lamont would term ‘bad sex’. However, raw, risky dangerous sex was in a whole different universe, whether it be a risky public location that could result in being caught, a person who was supposed to be untouchable because of their position like his swim coach, or having unsafe sex without a condom. Sometimes he thought there must be something wrong with him that he loved it as much as he did. Why couldn’t he like plain, straightforward vanilla sex as much as he loved the other kind? Why was something illicit and forbidden such a thrill? But those were questions for him to ponder AFTER he committed the act, not while the most incredible dick he’d had in a long time was fucking him so good he didn’t even care that another dick had come through the hole in front of his face. Not a bad dick, but he hadn’t had the opportunity to see the guy attached so he wasn’t going to touch it. He was a slut with standards, and the new dick didn’t meet his standards. Lamont raised his left leg to put it on the bench in the booth, giving his ass a better spread and allowing him to feel BlueCollar’s awesome cock in a different way. Fuuuuuuccck, the dude knew how to use that cock, deep long strokes that alternated between brutal and deep, to slow and shallow thrusts. He’d been at it for more than five minutes and Lamont knew the guy was holding off, determined to enjoy the young 20 year old hole as long as he could. Quality recognized quality, and BlueCollar probably understood something like this young hole didn’t come along but rarely. BlueCollar paused in his thrusts, and Lamont knew the moment was near, he was trying to keep from shooting. This was the moment, the time for a decision. He could pull off, let BlueCollar shoot all over his ass, feel the warm, sticky liquid spurt over the sensitive skin and drip down. He knew he’d already made his decision the moment he saw the guy’s cock through the hole, he wouldn’t pull off. Besides, he told himself, untold amounts of precum had already been fucked deep inside him, who knew how much was already pooled in his guts, so what was the harm in more? A simple rationalization that he might regret later, but regret had no place in the present. Regret was a future thought that considered the past, always, restricted by its own rules of operation. Now that the choice was reconciled, Lamont’s bloodstream was flooded with all the adrenaline, serotonin and endorphins his nervous system needed to send his head into a maelstrom of sexual pleasure that rivaled an orgasm. Lamonts balls were fully retracted, his dick as hard as he’d ever felt it, dripping with its own surging young pre-cum. He started moving his ass up and down on the dick, fucking himself back onto the shaft. BlueCollar began shoving even more violently and they met in a perfect rhythm of synchronized lust. BlueCollar had made his own decision, just as Lamont had done on numerous similar occasions, the decision to inject his hot load inside the hole beneath him regardless of consequences. It was the ultimate feeling of sexual release when a top and a bottom agreed on how it all would end, when they merged as a single rutting beast with one goal: FUCK to IMPREGNATE. Lamont let out an involuntary moan, he wanted it so bad that he’d lost all sense of his surroundings. His brain was fully focused on the cock in his ass, the vision of this rough, sexy man’s muscular ass propelling his thick hairy cock into Lamont’s willing asshole, pounding against the booth walls and sending the unmistakable sounds of violent sexual release out into the rest of the arcade which were more apparent now that both of their video tokens had run out of time. In an instant, Lamont felt the wall behind him shake, the cock inside him stop and spasm, the motions of the man behind the wall became erratic, breaking the rhythm. Lamont closed his eyes and pressed fully against the wall. He was being inseminated, milky white sperm shooting out deep inside his guts in ever increasing jerks of the hyper masculine fuckpole so beautifully designed by genetics and nature to commit this very act inside a warm bodily cavity. Lamont never felt so rewarded or complete as when his hole achieved this purpose of bringing another man to orgasm, as if he’d fulfilled his purpose, that he’d done everything right and giving release to a man filled an emptiness inside him. When he bottomed it was almost completely about allowing the man to use him fully, he almost didn’t even care about his own dick, or shooting his own load. He knew how it felt to cum inside another man’s ass, to fill them with his seed, to give them that potent genetic fluid meant to pass along a part of himself to a worthy partner. It was as if a part of him would then live inside them for the rest of their lives. It was a form of procreation, inseminating another, and it didn’t matter if it resulted in pregnancy. Some form of his genetic material would fertilize the membranes it found. Sperm had an infallible directive - wriggle inside and disintegrate to disperse your payload for absorption. It was this that he wanted from certain men, from specific cocks. He wanted part of their attractive masculinity to be implanted in him, just as he wanted his to mix with specific other men. And he knew he would feel all the best attributes of BlueCollar merge with him making him a stronger, more capable man. BlueCollar had slowed his thrusts, almost completely stopping in motion, before pulling his cock out of Lamont’s ass. Lamont hurriedly turned and looked through the hole. He wanted one last look. Fuck, that was a beautiful cock, something about the dark hairy busy framed its now shiny length perfectly. BlueCollar was in the process of using a papertowel to wipe it clean before pulling up his boxers and jeans quickly. He seemed in a rush, a feeling Lamont knew all too well. The act was completed, it was necessary but now that it was finished the urge to leave trumped everything else. A quick check of the hands on each of BlueCollar’s pockets, probably to assure himself that nothing had fallen out, like his keys, money, or wallet, before he unlatched the door and left. Lamont liked his style. No thank you, no words exchanged, no final look. In fact, every action indicated that Lamont no longer existed. That comforted him, another indication that BlueCollar had resorted to this for one purpose, to get off and nothing more. Lamont searched himself for any sign of disappointment, regret or fault for what he’d done, and found nothing except the desire to allow that man to do the same thing again. He ran a couple fingers over his freshly fucked hole and played with the sticky reminder of his conquest. Fuck, if he didn’t have another dick his entire weekend he’d still be satisfied. A fuck like he’d just taken was going to make it difficult to enjoy any other men for weeks, he knew. He realized he was done here. He had no desire to troll around to find what was likely to be disappointing after that, but he’d keep the rest of the tokens because he also realized he’d probably return here at some point over the next couple days. He also needed to get a couple hours sleep before going out tonight. The hunt at a gay bar was a different kind of game involving flirting, tease, projecting a persona to bait interest. Along with that came the ability to completely relax among others of his kind without looking over his shoulder at who might be watching. Lamont imagined the disappointment in the men positioned along the halls of the arcade as he walked out the exit.

Battle Buddies - Chapter 16 ASSMUNCH I waited with the other Bravos and the randoms for Lenger and the Sgt. Airborne to walk our floor. We all had our rucks, our backpacks, and our duffles crammed with everything. Most of us didn’t bother sorting and organizing the stuff before we did. It didn’t matter, we could re-pack them later. Our ruck was always packed out anyway. Sometimes you didn’t get a lot of notice ahead of time to move out so our ruck was ready for mission as a matter of habit. It was just our casual stuff we had to get shoved away. Our lockers were empty, the doors open. After Sgt. Airborne inspected Lenger would go behind him and close the door. He actually made Lenger get on hands and knees in the center of the bay so he could stand on his back to look around for anything that might have been forgotten on top of the metal lockers. Sgt. Airborne wasn’t going to find anything, not in the bay, not in our lockers (or on them), not in the hall, the day room, the latrines, the showers, our instruction room, or outside perimeter of the building. Speaking of the perimeter, that’s where Kevin and Tim waited for me, on the benches. It sucked that they couldn’t watch this part of the process, I think they’d both find it interesting. But at least they got to watch the next class of Airborne do their small tower jumps across the street. That’s where I sent them when I had Sleeper give Hunter Wicomb a warning. Just before we were dismissed, we lined up in front of Sgt. Airborne’s desk so he could tell us where we were supposed to be. The randoms were released back to their units, or told where to report for holdover, and the Bravos were handled last. We were told we had a four day special pass, but to report back in front of Command at 0500 Wednesday. The difference between special pass and leave was the difference between a ditch and a canyon in terms of freedom. With Leave, you could go anywhere, get on a plane even. A Special pass meant you were subject to recall at any time, and you had to stay within a certain radius of your post depending on the length of the pass. A commander could cancel your Special Pass whenever he wanted, for any reason. Leave, once approved, wasn’t so easily withdrawn, it was a right, not a privilege. And most Commanders were highly reluctant to pull a soldier off leave, plus they had to have a VERY good reason. Bootlicker tried to get my attention alone while we were doing clear out, but there was just too much going on, too many things to do, and I felt like I had to be in ten places at once plus Kevin and Tim were with me most of the time. Everyone wanted to be released so no one was slacking off, not even the randoms. Bootlicker didn’t seem too worked up about whatever it was, so I knew it wasn’t urgent. I’d talk to him when we got back from our pass. “We’re going to have to jog to the Exchange. It’s not far.” I told Kevin and Tim when I got outside. “I’m actually hungry, especially since I get to eat different food than Dining Facility stuff or MRE’s.” “Is it really that bad?” Kevin asked. The wind was gusting just a bit and his hair was flipping back off his shoulders. “Depends on what you think is bad. Sometimes you’re so hungry it tastes like the best thing you ever ate. Then two days later you’ll try it again and it tastes blah. The Dining Facility has to feed hundreds of troops at once, so everything is made in huge portions. I’ve never had a vegetable that tastes like anything except mush. There’s some meats that are decent. The meatloaf is usually good, especially with the gravy. Breakfast is probably the best. SOS is my favorite. But you gotta watch it. It’s not fun puking it back up if your Sarge decides your Platoon is goin on a ruck march.” I explained. Kevin’s eyes looked sympathetic and horrified all at once. “Our dining facilities have really good food.” He said, talking about MIT. I laughed. “Yeah, I’m not surprised. Spoiled little princes and princesses.” He shot me a look that promised future retribution for that comment. I said a prayer of thanks. Bring it on, Kev. “So, the trick is we aren’t actually running, we’re just jogging. It’s cool enough outside that it’ll keep us warm without sweating.” I knew both Kevin and Tim were in excellent shape, and a twenty minute run wasn’t going to kill them. We were going to be a little late, but not too late. While we double timed… sorry…jogged — Older soldiers figured out eventually how to double speak and that you only used military terminology in the military setting. Unless you were telling a story to your friends, you used common civilian terms where you could. Like, with other soldiers I’d say gunship, or AH, or AH-64. But with civilians I’d say Apache Helicopter. Guys that threw out terminology and acronyms left and right were either trying too hard to sell their military experience to people who didn’t know any better or sound more important than they actually were. But to another soldier or sailor it sounded pretentious and idiotic if you weren’t talking to one of your own. It worked the other way around too, in case you were wondering. If you said ‘so I took my gun’ to other military, they’d just stop you right there and ask ‘which one’, or instantly assume you didn’t know shit about shit. You had rifles, and you had pistols, and you had military issued weapons, and personal weapons. You had long range, short range. And the weapon you preferred or used sometimes said more about you that only another soldier would understand, like what kind of unit you were in, what you did in that unit, and more. A civilian wouldn’t know what ‘so I took my M16’ meant, or the other information that phrase imparted, but another soldier would know immediately, you were probably on watch, patrol, battle drill, or taking a position and they’d definitely know you were on duty, on mission or training. You didn’t always carry, but Infantry carried more often than anyone. Other MOS’s would only carry rifles on high alert, and side arms if they were deployed at a forward operating base. In the military, you learned to call things what they were, or refer to them with specific terms (either nicknames, jargon, or abbreviations). Your kit was one thing, your gear vs. equipment was other stuff, your pack versus your ruck, uniform, etc. With Kevin and Tim, I didn’t have to modify a whole bunch, they grew up in a military town. But right now, I was on pass, with civilians, so I was ‘jogging’. I needed to be better about switching between the two ways of talking. I started off leading the pace with Tim on my right and Kevin on my left, trying to keep us to an easy jog, but soon Tim had other ideas. Ah, the exuberance of youth. “C’mon! Let’s race!” he cried out surging ahead. Kevin smirked at me and leapt forward. In dress shoes and slacks, but damn I could see the flex and expansion of his muscles as he ran and he looked amazing. He really had the most fantastic legs and ass. Kevin didn’t have a Sleeper level ass, it was wider and beefier, probably closer to Chunk’s ass. It looked sturdy and substantial, and hard as a rock. Just a fucking solid mass of brute muscle. I was going to bury my face in there later and have a fucking feast. I think I was going to have it sunny side up, with Kevin laying on his stomach. Fuck yeah. Kevin wasn’t going to let Tim have the lead. I shrugged and let them be stupid because I knew they had no idea where they were going and they’d have to wait for me anyway. Maybe Kevin wouldn’t even break a sweat, but neither of them was loaded down like I was. I sure as hell wasn’t going to get into a race with either of them when I was encumbered. When I caught up I threw my duffle to Kevin and my pack to Tim, keeping my ruck on my back. That should even things out a bit. Kevin looked at my duffle, hefted it to gauge the weight, then pushed it out to Tim and took the smaller backpack from my brother’s hand. “Hey, that’s not fair, you’re bigger. You should have the duffle.” Tim complained. “Get used to the weight, brat.” Kevin said, shouldering the smaller pack. “You want to train, run with as much as you can bear.” I did the exchange without stopping. “Go ahead and race now. You’ll learn.” I said. Tim had to adjust his stride to accommodate the bounce of the duffle, which was now on his back, his arms through the straps. Duffles aren’t exactly made to be carried on your back because the handles didn’t tighten, so Tim had to hold the straps while he tried to run so it wouldn’t bounce and slide down below his ass. The key to carrying anything on your back was to keep it high and not let it get below your waist. “How do you run with this shit?” Tim said. “Fuck me.” I laughed. “We aren’t even going that far or that fast. Toughen up, little bro.” It was evil, I admit. Even trained soldiers didn’t run with duffles on their back, and even if we did I’d pack it different so the weight was distributed in a certain way to make it easier. My ruck was always packed in a very specific order, the heavier stuff down low near my center of gravity where the back support and kidney straps would stabilize it and keep it from bouncing all over the place or making it difficult to maintain an even stride. My pack and my duffle, I’d thrown stuff in so it had no balance or distribution to the weight. That oughta keep both of them from getting us all sweaty. That was payback for neither of them offering to carry anything to begin with. I did feel lighter, but it wasn’t because I’d given Kevin and Tim stuff to carry. It was because of my Wings. That feeling would probably wear off eventually, but every time you pinned or sewed something new on your uniform you felt a certain energy from it. A new rank, an award, a patch, a tab…you felt good. It earned you just a little tiny bit more respect. The word ‘respect’ didn’t get paired with the word ‘Private’ very often so I’d enjoy this feeling for the short time it flowed through me. I still hadn’t gotten over the intense rush of parachuting from a plane and man did I want to do it again. I hoped my application for Ranger Class went through, and not just for the opportunity to Jump again, but for the fifty other skills I’d learn. And to be around other guys who were just as hungry to be masters of warfare. Damn, I can’t tell you how good it felt to have my little brother and Kevin with me right now. Just us men and I couldn’t have chosen two better companions. It seems stupid when we were only jogging to the PX to meet my mom, but something about this moment would stay with me for years to come as one of my favorite memories. My life felt balanced and in harmony, I was me, they were them but together we had something important with each other. As a soldier you always lived in one world or the other, rarely both at once. You shucked off your uniform to force yourself into civilian mode for a few hours, or put your uniform on and dismissed the casual nature of civilian life for duty. Having your family participate in something military with you was a blend of the best of both worlds and it had its own magical energy that always felt like everything was finally right. I wondered for a brief moment if the opposite was true: could you find that feeling with your brothers doing something civilian? I’d love to just go camping in the wild with the Bravos one day and find out. They were a great bunch of guys personally and professionally, and at the very least we’d have a fucking blast together. We could fight and make up, laugh, be serious, decide our own adventure. I really should have been careful what I wished for. After eating at the cafeteria with Mom, we headed to the hotel, which was a good distance from Benning. Of course, the town wasn’t that big so we’re only talking a few miles. Mom wasn’t stupid, she made sure we weren’t anywhere near the area of town where the weekend partying would take place which was always lively late into Friday and Saturday nights when soldiers took it off post. The partying wasn’t restricted to bars and often extended well into the early morning hours at hotels and motels making life miserable for anyone else staying there. It made me think Mom and Dad had more than a few experiences when they were young, and that made me smile. She knew how young soldiers behaved. My mom was really the best mom. Kevin and I were sharing a room with Tim, Mom had her own next door so we got the rental car emptied of the drinks and snacks she’d bought as well as the luggage. They hadn’t brought much, it was only going to be for a couple days. My stuff took up the bulk of what we had to transport. “I need to get out of these clothes.” Kevin said. I liked that he made an effort to look good with his slacks and dress shirt, but I knew he had to be hating it. Kevin hated anything tight. I suspected he wore the super tight slacks and body hugging shirt just for me, and I appreciated the display he put on for my benefit. Running track and training developed his thickness into a solid dense body that felt like it was just on the verge of action. You could feel and see the potential in his muscles. In high school he was an inch or so shorter than me, but he always had me in the size department. Since then he’d grown upwards to just shy of six feet so his mass was distributed so much more proportionately. I fucking loved it. Still the same thick legs and round ass but they tapered together more. Amazing calves too that I might just barely be able to wrap my hands around. When he stripped down I stared in appreciation at the skimpy briefs he wore. Kevin liked wearing boxers because ‘I gotta be able to move’. So he’d switched it up, and I had to believe he did that for me as well. A sexy line of dark pubic hair tufted over the waistband of the briefs in front, and the top of the crack of his ample ass rose from the back. The pouch in front did an excellent job of accentuating his meaty bulge but I could see the outline of his shaft pointed down and over his big nuts. He must have seen me checking him out. “You like them?” He asked, pulling gently on the sides of the waistband to reposition and pose with a smirk he somehow made look innocent. Oh fuck him. “Oh hell yeah.” I said instead. Of course Tim was over on the other bed watching too, but Kevin never got embarrassed about anything. And we both knew Tim liked to look at Kevin too. Hell, I don’t think there’d be many people, men or women, who wouldn’t like to look at that. “Good.” Kevin continued smirking, then turned away to bend over at the waist and dig through his bag. Fuck, now he was just being a tease, sticking his ass out at me like that, legs shoulder width apart, his meaty ass stretched the fabric enough that I could see the crack of his ass right through them, the baseball sized pouch that contained his cock and balls hanging between. My dick was half hard before THAT, and now it sprung to a solid steel gun barrel. I hope he let me fuck him once during this trip. Once was all I wanted. Just because he was teasing me with it didn’t meant he’d give it to me, I knew. That was the mind-fuck part of the game. Carol had taught him well. I’d get whatever he decided I could have and fuck if that didn’t drive me near to shooting in my underwear. “You better hold that.” He said, still bent over. I still didn’t know how Carol and now Kevin knew I was on the verge of shooting, he wasn’t even looking at me. Fucking sadists, the both of them. “Would you guys just kiss already.” Tim said. “I know you want to, don’t hold back because of me.” Kevin stood up and looked back at me over his shoulder. Another pose, another tease. Damn, his back was wide. I saw his eyebrow raise, and I knew immediately what he was thinking. “Excellent idea, Tim.” I said, and got up. Once I was on my feet, Kevin and I moved together towards Tim and pinned him back on the mattress. Then we both smothered him with kisses all over his head and neck while he did the absolute least he could to fight us off but still make it look like he was resisting. “Not me! You guys!” He argued. I planted one last kiss right on his forehead. “Thanks for coming to my graduation, Tim.” I said with a smile, looking straight into his eyes. He was a good little brother. That made him smile. Kevin had climbed on to straddle Tim to hold him down, but he didn’t move when he grabbed me by the chin and pulled me up to him. “Hey…” I said. “Hey yourself, handsome.” Kevin replied, hitting me with those soft flannel eyes. I was gone. Lost in the Kiss, again. “I wish I could kiss someone like that.” Tim said, finally breaking the spell Kevin had put on me. Tim was still laying there pinned by Kevin’s ass, relaxed and dreamy eyed. Kevin smirked. “One day, brat. Some girl will rock your world and you won’t know what hit you.” He told Tim. “Let me up, I’m going to take a shower.” Kevin gave a chuckle. He reached behind his back and grabbed Tim by the crotch. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.” He said, climbing off. “Don’t whack it so hard you pull the skin off, pervert.” “You’re too old to remember what it’s like, asshole.” Tim said. “I get hard at everything. I’m not a pervert.” “That’s gonna cost you, brat.” Kevin said roughly and he flipped Tim over masterfully and yanked his pants and underwear down while putting his knee across Tim’s shoulders. “Tom! Don’t let him do it!” Tim squealed, squirming. “Me? I can’t save you.” I said, laughing. “He could take both of us. Besides, you called him old, you deserve it.” Kevin licked his hand and planted a solid whack to Tim’s bare asscheeks. “Agggghhh! He called me a pervert!” Tim squealed. “Guess one wasn’t enough, he doesn’t sound sorry.” Kevin said calmly and gave my little brother another whack. “Okay! I’m sorry! I’m sorry I called you old!” Tim begged. Kevin eased up on his knee. “Good. Don’t let it happen again.” Kevin didn’t know Tim like I knew Tim. Something else was going to come out of his mouth. I heard it coming a mile away. It was in the way he left his insincere apology hanging unfinished. “Asshole.” Tim breathed, not loud, but not quiet enough to escape notice either. WHACK! Kevin didn’t hold back this time. He took it easy the first two swats, going for shock more than effect. But this time…Hell I knew how hard he could smack your ass when he put some effort into it. And the smirk he threw me when he did it told me he knew what was going through my mind. His look promised I’d get equal treatment at the moment of his choosing. Fuck my cock was dripping now. “Ow! Ow! You ass—“ Tim stopped himself. Now he was sorry. Properly. “You … person!” He finished. I guess that was the only thing he could think of to finish what he started to say in a way that wasn’t going to get him another swat. Kevin dismounted then gave Tim a kiss on the cheek. “Sorry if I hurt you, little bro. You okay?” Kevin knew he couldn’t hurt ME, but Tim was an unknown. Tim chuckled, and I knew he was okay. “Yeah, I’m not a baby.” Tim stood up and Kevin and I noticed his boner hadn’t gone down at all and was sticking out nice and proud with a slight curve to its length. He gave us both an evil look as he took a step toward the bathroom. “You hit like a girl anyway.” And he took off. Kevin almost caught him but got the door slammed in his face and we could hear Tim’s laughter echoing. “SUCKER!” Fucking little brothers. Such a little shit. “I’m going to teach him a lesson when he gets out.” Kevin growled. It was my turn to give Kevin a smirk. “Good luck, I’ve tried.” My boyfriend’s grey eyes turned stormy as they looked at me. “Looks like I’m going to have to take it out on you.” Oh fuck yeah I thought as my dick jumped. “Strip.” He ordered me, sauntering over to the chair in the corner of the room. He sat down slowly, spreading his legs and slouching down. He leaned his head on his fist and started groping his dick through his briefs with his other hand. “What if Tim comes out?” I said, starting to remove my uniform. “First, you better do what I told you to do.” The threat was clear, and thrilling. He paused for a couple seconds to underline his seriousness. “Second, so what? It won’t be the first time he’s seen us fuck. Third, he’s in there beating his meat, probably thinking of us fucking anyway. Fourth, it’s been years since he could take a long hot shower. I remember what it was like at your house. Five minute max. He’s sixteen, he’s going to enjoy that shower until the water goes cold and he’ll probably jack off enough times to clog the drain. We have plenty of time. Fifth, why aren’t you naked and crawling over here already? You’re going to get double for making me wait.” He growled. Damn, he knew just how to get me torqued up. The voice he used to make his little speech had every nerve in my body revved up, rough, barely controlled patience and assertive demand in every word. Crawl, he wanted me to crawl. Two could play at that game. I dropped to my hands and knees and fixed my eyes on his crotch. “Oh, is that what you want?” He said, spreading his legs wider. He lifted the leg of his briefs and pushed his thick cock out. He leaned back, never taking his eyes off me. His eyes were half-lidded in a sleepy sort of way, but make no mistake, they promised a brutal immediate future. He took up the entire chair with his beefy size, looking like a heathen warrior sitting on a throne of skulls. He pulled his foreskin back briefly, then re-hooded his hard cock. I caught a glimpse of precum glistening at the tip. “Mmmm, yeah, that’s it… stalk your prey.” I licked my lips as I took my time stretching out my limbs in a slow and languorous movement, rolling my shoulders with every extension. I was going to take my fucking time. He wanted to play animals? Fine. I kept my head low as I crawled, my lips in a snarl. Playing with my prey was a panther’s prerogative, and this beast before me was not too big for me to handle. I could taste the sweet juicy meat already. “Good kitty. Come here, I have a treat for you.” Like hell I was going to be that easy. Yeah, I wanted it, so much it was driving me crazy, but he started it and the game was no fun if either of us gave up right away. I looked away, over to the bed, the door, down at my hands. I took a quick glance back at him with a bored look and saw a scowl coupled with a dark, sinister smirk. “Disobedient.” Just one word, but it held so much meaning as a promise. He sighed and shook his head once. As if he actually regretted what he had to do. I wasn’t fooled. I created a plan all my own that had nothing to do with his desires. All he had to do was move. Whoever moved first lost the first round. He took his hand away from his gorgeous cock and ran it through his hair, that sexy rake that pulled it away from his gorgeous face. “I guess you want it the hard way.” I blinked slowly, completely still. Even though I had been waiting for him to move, his leap from the chair took me by surprise, it was that quick. I saw his muscles tense, but I’m ashamed to admit I let my focus lapse to enjoy the ripples of them under his skin. So many beautiful muscles holding all that comfortable effortless power. His hand was around my throat in half a second. I bit his wrist and grabbed him behind the knees. He jerked his hand back. I grinned up at him and yanked him off his feet. Whoever was below us heard a nice booming thud as his entire weight hit the carpet, or maybe not. Hopefully it was concrete, but who knows? “That’s going to cost you.” He grunted kicking his leg over to scissor my head. “You think you’re the only feral beast in this room?” He could talk all he wanted. One of us was getting fucked. As much as I wanted it to happen to me, I was going to make him earn it, and if he wasn’t man enough… well too bad for him because I was going to sink my dick balls deep in that magnificent big ass of his. I drove my hand up between his humongous calves and pried his ankles off my neck. Yeah fucker, I learned a few things in the army. For which I received a hard kick to the face. I saw stars for a second. Damn, so it was like that, huh? Oh fuck yeah. Bring it on, stud. If we both didn’t end up bloody I was going to be sorely disappointed. “Remember, you asked for this. I’m going to ring your fucking bell until you’re a nice, domesticated pet.” He growled. And he sent his heel into my chest. I rolled to take the majority of the force out of it, but it still felt like he reached my spine. I got to my feet, grinning. I let him climb to his feet as well. He didn’t even fix his briefs, his thick, hard dick still coming out the leg. It looked angry. I snarled. I crouched in a fighter’s stance. He smirked. I had a moment’s doubt. He wasn’t worried at all. “Aw, look at the training.” He said in a condescending tone like he was talking to a kindergartner. Then he just stepped forward slowly, not protecting, not guarding. I took a swing. It was a mistake. He barely moved and my wrist was in his grip. His hard, unbreakable grip. I gave him two rapid shots to the kidney which barely registered on his face. He yanked my arm down and around, my only choice was to let him flip me over. I’d recover when my feet reached the floor, I wasn’t worried. I should have been worried. Because he punched me in the gut while I was still flying over. And he didn’t pull it. “FUCK!” I gasped. And then he punched me in the face. Fucking hard. Then he didn’t wait he gave me a hard knee to the hip, full force. I went down to my knees. Fuck, where was that emptiness when I needed it? He was taking me apart. I was going to feel this tomorrow. He bent over to whisper in my ear. “C’mon Tom, you’re better than this. You better start fighting back or I’m going to have to fuck you when you’re unconscious. And don’t think I won’t.” He was right. I was taking it easy on him because I still thought of him as the man I loved. It was still a game to me. That had to go. I breathed, closed my eyes for a moment and felt the emptiness take me. I cautioned myself not to break any bones, but everything else was open as a tactic. “Oh-ho… Look who decided to show up to the fight.” Kevin said when he saw the look in my eyes. “C’mon killer, show me what you can do.” tit for tat. I round-housed him right in that square handsome jaw, which made him take a step back and shake his head. Even in my zone he looked so fucking hot when his head rocked with the force of my kick and his hair flew. Fuck yeah, I clocked him GOOD, and I decided I would kick him in his head a couple more times just to watch it again. “Nice.” He smiled. He had blood on his teeth. Fucking sexy as hell. Now he crouched, on guard. I guess he decided to take it seriously. I had to put my heel into his sternum next, like he had done to me. Automatic me planned it. A fake to get him to open and turn slightly. I had to heel him with a back kick, but he played it exactly like I orchestrated. “Hey…are you…. ? Oh you fucker.” He laughed, gasping at first, then his big, booming full laugh. He figured it out. Every shot he had given me, every time he rang my bell, I was doing to him. “But, time’s up, hot stuff. I want to fuck two loads into you before your brother gets out of the shower, so as fun as this is, I’m going to have to put you down.” That’s what he thought. I went in for a disabling strike but it glanced off the nerve cluster just below his sternum. I ignored the spike of pain that traveled through my wrist when my half-folded finger knuckles hit bone. The spike of pain distracted me for maybe only a tenth of a second, but it was enough for him to wrap my head in his big arms. “Time to go to sleep, beautiful.” He whispered. ********** I came to feeling his hips slamming into mine as he plowed my ass with all his weight. My legs were pinned by his hands, splayed out onto the mattress beside my hips. “Welcome back sexy.” He murmured with a smile. Fuck I loved him. “Took you long enough.” “Have you cum yet?” I asked him, not sure why that was the first question out of my mouth, but his insistent pounding and the fullness in my ass were all I cared about. I couldn’t have been out that long. I had never felt this relaxed. I drifted in a state of perfect ease. “Just waiting for you, baby.” He stroked twice more, powerful deep thrusts. “Number one.” He said, pausing for just a couple seconds as I felt his thickness expand and throb along with a sub vocal growl from his throat. He looked deep into my eyes as he shot his seed inside me. And that made my dick suddenly spring up. I’d gone soft when I lost consciousness, but with his cum shooting inside me it didn’t matter, my own cum started pouring out of my dick. Fuck! I came soft, what the hell? That’s what he did to me, and our fight unlocked something visceral inside me, some connection to him I couldn’t explain. “Oooooooooohhhhhhhhhh fuuuuuuuccccckkkkkkkkkk” I moaned in a long, deep heave as the cum poured out of my dick onto my stomach as my head arched back. I didn’t shoot, it poured out of me and holy fucking hell it was amazing, like one long continuous spurt of jizz originating in my prostate. I looked up into his smiling face. “You’re” SLAM “So SLAM “FUCKING SLAM PERFECT! SLAM SLAM SLAM He dove onto my face and kissed me with his bloody mouth and I just kept cumming. I was going to pass out again. I felt the world close in, the light became a tunnel, and then nothing. ************ I woke up again with him gazing at my face with a look of deep love radiating from those soft flannel eyes. He was still on top of me, inside of me. He kissed me again, this time full and everything, it was The Kiss. I had never been so happy, so content, so completely submitted to him. “You’re incredible. The things you make me feel, Tom.” He whispered, tears in his eyes. “Did I hurt you?” I laughed with a joy I don’t think I’d ever felt. “You hurt me as much as I wanted you to. I meant it. You’re perfect, Kev.” “Why do you do that?” He asked, grinning. “I was going to be all gentle and loving and treat you like my beautiful, wonderful Tom. I wanted to show you how much I love you. Instead, we end up kicking each others’ ass until we’re bruised and bloody then have the best sex we’ve had, ever.” I gazed at him, serious. “I feel how much you love me every time you meet me on a new, higher level. Every time I think I’ve left you behind, you come up and meet me. I was going to beat you bloody and fuck you if you didn’t get me first. I can’t believe you got me. But….” He waited. But I didn’t fill the silence. I just fell into his eyes. “But you were waiting for me to get there with you…”. He finished. He locked me, pulled me in. And just as I was spiraling down, he said “I’ll do whatever I have to, Tom, to be right beside you, always.” his kiss was in my soul. “Don’t mind me, I’ll just get dressed over here while you keep your dick in my brother’s ass.” Kevin didn’t move. He just smirked. “Lesson.” He whispered. God it felt awful when he yanked his thick cock out of my ass, but he was up and off the bed in an instant. Part of me wanted him to beat my little brother bloody too, for ruining the moment. I didn’t have the strength to participate, I was too far in that feeling of contentment, so I watched. Part of me knew I was just laying there exposed, the blankets fallen off the end of the bed. But men were men. Naked, cocks out, bare-assed, only weak men cared about that. I rolled onto my side to see what punishment Kevin would demand. He would never go further than Tim could endure. And after he took me without breaking a sweat, I knew Tim was going to get what was coming to him. “Tom. Control your boyfriend.” Tim tried first. I just remained silent. “C’mon Kevin. It was just fun, right?” Tim continued when I didn’t interfere. Kevin was walking slowly towards him. I knew his dick was still hard, at most he’d cum twice. Usually it took four times until he was done. Poor little Tim. No, Kevin wasn’t going to fuck Tim. But the picture of Kevin the Beast striding slowly towards you with a rock hard thick as fuck cock paints a whole different picture than some dude fully clothed, right? And Tim didn’t know what to keep his eyes on. Kevin knew that, his rather large dick bouncing out in front of him as he walked. “Did you call me a sucker?” Kevin said, in a surprisingly conversational tone. “Well… It was… I mean… “ Tim stammered. “It made me think you weren’t really sorry. Like you apologized without meaning it.” Kevin was now just a foot away from Tim. Both were naked, but only Kevin was hard. I guess Tim had whacked all the stiffness out of his not too shabby teenaged dick in the shower. “I meant it, I swear.” Tim said, his eyes wide. Kevin stepped forward, now they were almost touching. He bent down, Tim was still shorter than him by four inches or so. I saw Tim’s body tremble. Kevin whispered something in his ear and I saw his lips move across the flesh there, like a caress. Kevin made sure his lips touched Tim’s ear. I knew how soft Kevin’s lips were, and how they felt so good when they brushed across you. I was enjoying this. I knew how Carol had taught Kevin everything she knew, so I know Kevin was playing with my little brother in some way. We were both sure Tim was probably bi, and we knew he had a thing for Kevin. Nothing was going to happen, but Kevin was getting his pound of flesh for Tim’s impertinence and disrespect. Kevin couldn’t be that close to Tim without his dick rubbing up against his stomach, he was way too close. Then Kevin pulled his head back slightly to line up with Tim’s face, their noses touching. I wish I knew what Kevin whispered to Tim. “Are you going to be a good boy?” Kevin said, his lips so close to Tim’s I found myself wanting to see them touch. Kevin’s eyes were locked onto Tim’s, and I watched my little brother’s chest heave with deep breaths. Tim didn’t want to move away, even a centimeter. “Yes, sir.” Tim said, with the barest breath. Kevin put his hand up on Tim’s head and stroked his face. “Good boy.” He said, and gave Tim the barest brush with his lips. When Kevin turned back around to me where Tim couldn’t see I got the most satisfied smirk I’d ever seen on him. Fuck… Kevin was just insane. I didn’t miss the renewed boner my brother sported, and the dreamy smile on his face as well as his closed eyes. I was also newly bonered. And after that performance, I didn’t care if my little brother watched. “You better pull the sheets up.” I said when Kevin came back. “No, you want him to know what real love is?” Kevin asked. “He needs to see it. That last part, he’s not ready for. But this, I want him to find this for himself. Girl or guy. Are you in?” Kevin asked me. He raised is eyebrows. I didn’t know how to answer. I wanted to protect my little brother. I didn’t want him to think of sex as dirty, or something to be ashamed of regardless of how he wanted to do it or who he wanted to do it with. But part of me also didn’t want him to think this was an invitation to join in. After what I just saw between Kevin and Tim, I knew I’d want Kevin to be the one to show Tim what sex between two men could be, just like I felt good about Carol teaching him about sex with women. Tim obviously carried a crush on Kevin from the start, and I loved that. Tim saw Kevin as a hero, and if he couldn’t emulate me or dad, Kevin was the next best choice. I knew Tim’s personality though, and he’d blaze his own trail. Shit… this was up to me. Was Tim ready? I had no idea. I felt the right decision settle on my mind. It was up to Tim. I looked over to my little brother, who was still standing where Kevin left him, hard teenage dick erect, his hero-worshipping eyes on Kevin who was next to me. “Tim?” I called out. “Yeah Tom?” the expectant hope in his voice cut me, just a little, I know what he wanted, just from his response. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want that too, just a little. But he was my brother, and he had to grow into a man of his own mind before I’d even consider crossing that line. Right now, he had heroes, he had larger than life men who were everything he wanted to be, and he just lost his biggest hero, his father. In this, I had to be resolute. My little brother was a HUGE part of my heart. I wanted him to be a man to be proud of, a man HE would be proud to be. I know he would let either Kevin or I do whatever we wanted with him, but I didn’t want him to be anyone’s plaything, manipulated into conditioned responses, submissive to the first person that gave him a boner, afraid to be confrontational or draw the line between what was worth it, and what you could leave behind you in a forgotten pile of trash. Maybe Kevin was right. If I walked away from Kevin today he’d pace behind me two steps away until I looked back and then he’d challenge me. He wouldn’t let me take another step until I proved I wanted to leave him behind. And it would be damn hard to prove that. I couldn’t figure out how he maintained his independence, his own path, but I still had him right beside me. How the fuck did he do that? He was like no one I’d ever met. He was ALL him, but somehow he was part of me too. I don’t think I was him… I sure as hell couldn’t meet him on that intellectual brain level he was at. My brain didn’t turn in gears like his. I knew, I saw, it came to me, I understood…but fuck if I could explain it. It was all intuition for me, some fucking kind of magic that just connected the dots without understanding how. Kevins gears clicked until all the pegs fell into the right holes and he knew every peg, every hole, every gear, every turn. He dissected until all the tiny pieces were revealed. Me… hell I saw people as whole and complete, and I just understood what that meant. But Tim had to see how real it was. He had to know the depth it could reach. That stuffing your dick into someone was fine, but there were levels so much deeper where souls fucked, where minds inseminated and fertilized. Sex was biological. But making love was metaphysical. Levels existed, and I was sure humanity hadn’t found them all, not after my altered state experiences. Hell, how had Kevin made me cum just after regaining consciousness? I felt the dive over the cliff was imminent and right. I loved my baby brother so much, maybe more than I even loved Kevin, that I wanted him to know, to understand how deep that chasm of love could be so that he had a lodestone to orient towards when he found love himself. I know he loved me, and I absolutely know he was in love with Kevin, but a love all his own was what I wished for him, something he would value and protect with every fiber of his being. A love that lived and grew inside him as its own immutable truth, like what I had with Kevin. “Come here, Tim.” I said softly. I watched him walk over, trepidation in every step. I looked up at Kevin, into his eyes, those beautiful, soft flannel eyes that held all the emotion I pushed with every beat of my heart, He knew what I would ask. I looked up at Tim, standing next to Kevin. They were so different. Tim was unfinished, not yet complete, his face needing me to be the one to decide. “Tim, do you want Kevin to kiss you? Nothing more, just a kiss?” I saw a tear fall from Tim’s eye. “Yes, but I don’t want to hurt you. Is it okay, Tom?” The pleading in his words…fuck. He thought he would steal Kevin from me? Kevin answered, reaching up to hold Tim’s young face in his hands. “Tim…Little bro… I love you, you know that right? You aren’t going to hurt anything. Tom loves you with all of his heart. I love you too. It’s okay. We want you to know what that love feels like.” Tim was looking down. He was crying fully now, tears just pouring from his eyes. He looked up, his eyes full of hope. Kevin moved in slowly and first kissed Tim with a gentle peck, just barely brushing his lips on Tim’s. I saw Tim’s body go limp, but Kevin was ready, and surrounded him with his capable, comfortable arms. And then… Tim felt…. The Kiss.

I love too.. I used to have many cocks a week dropping load in my face and in my mouth. Often after I suck it out. I let some to use my ass, and sometimes, a guy would just arrive, turn me and put his cock inside me without much announcement or my resistance. All thanks to CL. Nowadays, I can't do much of it anymore. Much harder.