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Part 2 ======== It has been about two weeks. my girlfriend returned shortly after my last rendezvous with scorpion boy and immediately noticed the hickey, despite my feeble attempts to disguise it, dumped me and moved out. Since then I'd been fucked a few times, all bare, exploring my new freedom and an intense bout of lust I could not explain. Once again I found myself home alone, horny, and surfing apps for a playmate. That's when I saw his message. "Still looking, huh? I know you're missing my cock. No one around here is going to compare. Let me know when you're ready to admit what you need" with a little scorpion emoji. I was immediately hard and ashamed to admit he was right. I'd been daydreaming of that fuck but he'd been offline and hadn't replied to my last short but needy message of "hey are you around?". I found myself dry humping my sheets and I realized there was not point resisting this. Messaged him back, trying to be cool "I'm free. Want to come by?". Long delay. Finally he replies "Do as you're told." I sighed in frustration, but felt my cock twitch. I liked being put in my place and it seemed he remembered this. I wrote back "I need your cock, please." He went offline. Fuck. I was doing some dishes, still half hard, when i heard a knock at the door. To my surprise it was him. He came in and greeted me with a kiss and a smack on my butt. "I knew I'd be back here. Your little peach is so needy." I blushed. He asked how I'd been feeling and what I'd been up to, more small chat than last time I thought. I admitted I'd been a little tired but also incredibly horny. He grinned and said "I bet you have. Let's do something about that, shall we?" I was already hard and wet when he started undressing me, playing with my body, taking his time. He treated me differently too, putting obvious time and effort into my pleasure as much as his. Over the course of the late afternoon and evening he fucked three loads into me, making me beg for his cum each time - which I did lustfully and without hesitation. Fucking in different positions...hard, slow and deep. He left me dripping with cum. After the third round, still inside me and leaking cum, he leaned in close and whispered in my ear "that should do it my little slut, now to let nature take it's course." And as quickly as he'd arrived he was out the door. Leaving me aching, exhausted, and full of his cum. Wondering what he meant about nature taking it's course. I let it drift out of my mind as I fell asleep.

I walked along the balcony of the second floor of the motel. It was a nice place...older, but not seedy. There were about 50 rooms, and it had a pool. I knocked on the door of room 37, and Kyle opened it to let me in. He had a big smile on his face, showing off those dimples that made me melt. We had met almost 2 years ago in an online chat room for older men seeking younger men. At the time he was 48 and I was 25, and we were both excited by the age gap, nevermind that we also hit it off really well. We had similar kinks and fetishes, and the sex was amazing. He also loved our size difference, since he was 6'4" and I was 5'7" and all of 130 pounds. He said he loved "wearing" me on his cock, and loved to talk dirty while we fucked. I even let him arrange a few 3ways because he said he loved watching other guys fuck me. I had wanted to try 3ways, but never had any until after I met Kyle. And since I was on prep, I didn't worry too much that the other top was a stranger. I asked him once if he ever asked the other tops if they were HIV poz, and he said, "sometimes. But you're on prep anyway." I still worried about him because I know he forgets to take pills and vitamins, and worried he would miss a dose or two. Once, while we were spooning after sex, he whispered that it was hot to think that one of the thirds might be poz. I shrugged it off since I was on prep, but he kept bringing it up, that it would be hot to watch poz guys fuck me. It obviously turned him on, and I started to think about it more and more. Then there was the time he confessed, afterwards, that the other top WAS poz. He didnt bother to mention it because we were both taking meds, but he admitted to being more turned on than ever watching a poz guy fuck me...even if there was no real risk. Hearing his confession surprised me a little, but not as much as how hard I got as I processed his secret. But that was almost a year ago now. Today was his birthday, and this was his party. There was a small sheet cake on the table with his name written on it, and a few un-lit candles. Also a pint of melting ice cream, a case of beer, and a couple brown bottles of Amyl. My gaze drifted across the HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner and balloon arrangement, then bounced across the faces of the other party guests with a passive smile and a friendly nod. Seven men smiled back at me, a couple tipping their beers to me as they did so. Seven men around Kyle's age, some with dad-bods. Seven men I had never met before, but who were all a part of my birthday present to Kyle. We cut the birthday cake and sang, then mingled a bit as we ate standing. They all knew I was Kyle's boyfriend, but only a couple knew my name. I didn't ask any of their names, and none of them offered it. When everyone had finished their cake, and a couple of the men lit cigarettes, I introduced myself. "Thank you guys for coming to Kyle's party, this is an important birthday for him. I know we've never met but I'm Kyle's boyfriend Scott." They smiled and nodded, and a couple mumbled, "Hi, Scott." I continued. "I gave Kyle complete control over the guest list as part of my birthday present." Kyle stood by with his arms folded, smiling knowingly. "This year, for Kyle's birthday, I am giving him my serostatus." There was silence for a moment, and then some of the men nodded.

Rolling around in bed I was hard as a rock and had that familiar feeling that life would be better if I had a thick cock inside me. My girlfriend was out of town and I had no plans for the night. I'd been playing with boys for years but had taken a bit of a break until recently. Once I started giving it up to horny gay boys I found a fire inside me that was endlessly hungry. So every time she was out of town for work I'd hop online and try to find a match. And so far she'd been none the wiser and I'd been having a great time. No harm, right? Tonight would be no different, I convinced myself, as I rolled over to grab my phone. What she also didn't know was that I'd been slipping up lately and going raw. Before I was in a relationship I always played raw, on prep. Since dating I'd gotten off prep and not given it much more thought. But I didn't play all that much so it didn't seem worth the trouble and potential explaining. Hard as a rock and very much in heat I began scrolling through profiles, looking for a top to play with me. Before long I found one nearby, online. His profile name was just a scorpion, no photo. Kinda odd, kinda hot I thought. Didn't think much of it. His profile was pretty sparse except for some stats (that fit my desires) and one line "Say the word and I'll make you mine". Why not. I messaged him. "horny af here, need a top to make me his tonight. i'm hosting." added a sexy photo and sent it. Waited, waited. Nothing. Fuck. Started scrolling again when a message popped in "i bet you do. send location. be naked and ready to fuck, boy" with a photo of his hard, thick cock. I didn't hesitate. I was rushing around with anxious energy getting my place tidy and stripping when i heard a knock at the door. I let him in. Tall, dark, handsome. Yum. He glanced me up and down and said "oh look at you. you're ready for it aren't you?". I nodded silently as he closed the door and began undressing. That's when I noticed the large scorpion tattoo on his chest. "you really like scorpions huh?" I asked shyly. He smirked and just replied "sure man". Feeling a little embarrassed I didn't press it further. Almost like he could sense my trepidation, he moved quickly towards me and kissed me. I melted in his arms right away. Things moved quickly to my bed, his body pressed against me, his hands exploring my body, his cock rock hard pressing against my bare ass. I was in heaven already. "you like it raw?" he moaned softly in my ear. I nodded vigorous. "good boy, im going to give it all to you". I moaned loud as he spread my legs. He slowly worked my hole, loosening me up, all the while driving me insane. By the time he had the tip in I was pulling him in deeper with my legs, begging for his cock. Fuck the lube, fuck the foreplay. I cant wait, I need it bad. He did his work well. That smirk plastered on his face as he gave me what I wanted, pushing deeper, and deeper. Finally buried deep inside me, he leaned in and started kissing me, moving from my lips to my neck. All the while pumping slowly in and out of me like his little fuck doll. I'm sure it wasn't lost on him how desperate I was for this. How bad I yearned for his cock every time he pulled back. "Mmm you love it boy. You ready for me to go harder", to which I simply replied "fuck me", sealing my fate. I didn't mind the lubeless pain. I just wanted him to fuck me. With this he started pounding me, his mouth still locked on my neck. Teeth digging in. I could feel the pain and suddenly had a little sense when I cried out softly "you'll leave a mark!". He paused his attack of my vulnerable neck only long enough to growl in my ear "more than one, I think". My body couldn't resist him so i gave in, letting him bite me hard as he plunged deep into me. "fuck it, you're ready" he said, pulling all the way out - to my great dismay. He commanded me to flip over, pulling my ass back towards him and without warning plunged right back in, knocking the air out of me. He pounded me deep and I could feel he was getting close. I didn't care. I was moaning like a whore. I wanted his load so bad. Needed it now. So did what any good bottom should and begged. He let out a dry laugh and grunted "you were never getting away" and pushed deep and shot it inside me. The feeling of his big hot load exploding in me was enough to send me over the edge into a shaking orgasm, wasting my cum all over the sheets. Panting, sweating, his cock still pulsing inside me, we laid there recovering for a few minutes. I asked him if he wanted to stick around and go again, but he had to head out. "I'll check back with you soon, and if you still need more I'll come pound a few more into you boy" and out the door he went. I was a bit puzzled by this, but I'd gotten what I wanted. I spent the rest of the evening jerking off while his cum leaked slowly out of me. Fell asleep still loaded with cum. Perfect. The next morning I woke up and looked in the mirror. Sure enough, one big hot hickey planted on my neck. It was only then his words rang back in my mind "more than one, I think". Glancing around my neck I didn't see any though. I wonder what that meant...and how I'll explain this hickey to my girlfriend...

Drew came home late last night after a session with his mates. As he got into bed he said “fuck me Daddy” Never one to refuse his arse I mounted him and went balls deep. Man he was so fukkin wet. He told me he’d bottomed all night and had at least 8 loads in him. I fucked him hard and my balls were covered in the other lads’ sperm. He was moaning “aww seed me Daddy” Daddy is my trigger word so I immediately shot my load deep in his arse mixing my load with all the other loads. After I emptied my balls I made him lie on his back. I straddled him and told him to open his mouth wide. I put both my nuts. In his mouth and made him suck em clean.

Chapter 5 The air in the sling room was thick enough to chew, a miasma of sweat, spent seed, and the acrid tang of chemicals that clung to the walls and saturated their very pores. The sacred silence that had followed Nate and Geoff’s union was broken by the click of a lighter. Brandon, ever the facilitator, the high priest of their new religion, was already preparing the next sacrament. He held the glass pipe, the bowl glowing a furious orange as he inhaled deeply, his chest expanding. He didn’t exhale. Instead, he crossed the room to where Nate was still leaning against the wall, his legs weak, his mind reeling from the seismic shift in his reality. “Open up, big brother,” Brandon commanded, his voice a low, intimate growl. He grabbed Nate by the back of the neck, pulling him into a rough kiss. As Nate’s lips parted, Brandon shot the thick, white cloud directly into his lungs, a shotgun blast of pure, unadulterated euphoria. Nate choked, sputtered, and then held it, his eyes rolling back as the wave crashed over him, washing away the last vestiges of the man he used to be. Brandon repeated the process with Geoff, who was still lying in the sling, his body glowing with a post-orgasmic sheen. Geoff accepted the smoke with a practiced ease, his glassy eyes fixed on his father. “Round two,” Brandon announced, a predatory grin spreading across his face. From the backpack, he produced another small syringe and a fresh, sterile ampoule. He expertly drew the clear, viscous liquid into the barrel. “Time to open that hole up properly, Nate. Get you ready for what’s coming.” Nate, lost in a chemical haze, offered no resistance. He simply bent over the bench, presenting his firm, muscular ass to his brother. Brandon pulled his cheeks apart, exposing the tightly furled bud. He squirted a glob of lubricant onto his fingers, worked it in, and then pressed the tip of the syringe against Nate’s sphincter. With a firm, steady push, he depressed the plunger, sliding the entire booty bump deep into his brother’s hole. Nate gasped, a sharp, electric jolt of pleasure-pain shooting up his spine as the dissolved crystal began to absorb directly into his tissues. His hole began to tingle, then to pulse, a warm, hungry ache spreading through him. Meanwhile, Geoff had prepared his own slam. With the focus of a champion athlete, he tied off, found a vein, and sent the charge rocketing into his own bloodstream. The effect was immediate and profound. His body tensed, every muscle straining as the fire flooded his system. A low, guttural growl rumbled in his chest, his eyes burning with a feral, possessive light. The boy was gone. In his place stood a virile, dominant bull, his nine-inch cock jutting out from his body, thick, hard, and leaking a steady stream of clear, potent precum. He had waited years for this moment, dreamed of it, and now, his father was finally his to claim. “On your back, Dad,” Geoff ordered, his voice deeper, rougher than before. “In the sling. It’s your turn.” Nate complied, his movements clumsy with lust and chemical surrender. He settled into the leather, his legs placed in the stirrups, his hole exposed and twitching with anticipation. Geoff stood between his father’s spread legs, his powerful frame casting a shadow over the man who had raised him. He ran a hand possessively over Nate’s thigh, the muscles tensing at his touch. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Geoff began, his voice a low, intense murmur as he guided the head of his cock to his father’s slick, puckered entrance. “All those years, watching you, wanting to be just like you. But that’s over now. It’s time for you to earn your brand. It’s time for you to take what I’m giving you.” He pushed forward, sinking the first few inches into his father’s hole. Nate cried out, a raw sound of shock and overwhelming pleasure. The feeling was immense, his son’s thick cock stretching him, filling him in a way he’d never been filled before. “Fuck yeah, take it,” Geoff snarled, his hips beginning to move, a slow, deliberate drilling rhythm that forced more and more of his length inside. He leaned forward, his face hovering over Nate’s, a string of spit connecting his lips to his father’s. He opened his mouth and let the saliva drip directly onto Nate’s tongue. “You’re gonna take my fucking poz load, Dad. You’re gonna take my toxic cum right up your guts. I’m gonna breed you. I’m gonna impregnate your hole with my seed.” His thrusts grew harder, faster, the slap of his hips against Nate’s ass echoing in the small room. He brought his hand down hard on Nate’s butt cheek, leaving a red, stinging print. SMACK! “This is my hole now!” he roared, his control completely gone. “You hear me? You’re my fucking bitch! You’re gonna take my poz gift and you’re gonna thank me for it!” SMACK! He punctuated the declaration with another sharp slap, his rhythm turning into a brutal, possessive pounding. He was no longer making love; he was claiming, marking, seeding. He was pozzing his own father, fulfilling the ultimate purpose of their bond. Nate was lost, a vessel of pure sensation. The words, the slaps, the overwhelming feeling of his son’s toxic cock rearranging his insides—it was a nirvana he never knew existed. He met Geoff’s gaze, and what he saw there wasn’t a boy, but a god, and he was his willing altar. The pressure built in both of them, a frantic, desperate climb toward the inevitable. “Gonna fucking seed you! Gonna give you my biohazard!” Geoff howled, his body locking up as his orgasm hit him like a freight train. He buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing violently as he unleashed a massive, infectious load deep into his father’s guts. Nate felt the hot, potent flood, and it triggered his own climax, his cock erupting without even being touched, painting his own chest with thick ropes of cum. Their triumphant, explosive cries mingled, a symphony of incestuous, viral conquest. They lay panting, Geoff collapsed onto his father’s chest, his softening cock still plugged deep inside him. The door to the room creaked open, and Brandon’s voice cut through the haze. “Beautiful, boys. Absolutely beautiful.” He stepped aside, and a new figure filled the doorway. He was a mountain of a man, broad-shouldered and thickly muscled, with a salt-and-pepper beard and a familiar, predatory grin. It was Coach Kyle Simmons, Geoff’s high school wrestling coach, and Nate and Brandon’s oldest friend. “Kyle,” Nate breathed, his eyes wide. “Nate,” Coach Simmons rumbled, his voice a low gravel. He began to strip off his tank top, revealing the intricate tattoo that started as a black scorpion on his belly and traced a path down, disappearing into the waistband of his gym shorts. “Heard you were finally joining the club.” He hooked his thumbs into his shorts and pulled them down, freeing his massive, ten-inch cock. It was a formidable weapon, thick and veiny, already standing at attention. He’d stealthed countless men, a ghost in the night, leaving his mark without a word. But tonight was different. He stepped into the room, his eyes locking onto Nate’s well-fucked, cum-leaking hole. “Been a long time, my friend,” he said, stroking his monstrous shaft. “But I’m not gonna be a ghost this time. You’re gonna feel every inch of this. And you’re gonna know exactly what I’m giving you.” He smiled, and it was the smile of a shark. “Time to get your real first seeding, Nate.”

Chapter 1 – Free Ride Walt was waiting patiently for his younger brother to stop by. He knew the routine with Ray. Walt was pretty successful at his job but really made his money with his side hustle. He was a successful dealer of all sorts. A latino gay man in his late 20’s with an average frame. He stands at a height of 5’ 11”. At 19 years old, his younger brother Ray was naturally skinny in an athletic way. Standing 5’ 9”, he looked like a normal guy. No one would guess that Ray was successful at being a low life junkie that couch surfed where he could. Opposite ends of the using continuum from his brother. Walt was able to know his limits and when to call it a day. Ray used as much and as often as he could, always chasing that next high. This was the usual time of the month where Walt found that his brother would come by to make small talk and then ask for some pills or tina to help him out. Walt was just about sick of his brother using the “family card” to get free shit. This time he was going to have to earn his high. Walt was going to make his straight brother choose his self pride or chase the high to give up a hole or two. Walt hoped that his brother would have the dignity to say no to his proposition but he also knows that Tina has a big grip on his brother. Either way, Walt had saved up a weeks load in his balls incase his brother chose the drugs. Like clockwork, Ray showed up on the last Saturday of the month at 6pm on the dot. A ring of the doorbell let Walt know his guest was there. He opened the door and gave his younger brother a quick glance up and down. Ray walked in and gave his brother a hug. R: Hey bro, it’s good to see you again. I hope you don’t mind that I stopped by today. W: No problem man. I have the night free so I was just going to chill at home. Come sit down on the couch. Can I get you something to drink? R: Do you have a beer back there? W: No on the beer I’m afraid. I do have the next best thing though. Walt disappeared into the kitchen and emerged with 2 glasses of coke. W: Who needs beer when I have some G. Watch out though, this batch is killer strong. Ray took the drink and started to down it. The speed at which he drank let Walt know he was already feeling bad without anything in his system. R: Hey, do you think I could catch a quick shower. I’ve been walking around a lot today. W: Sure, go ahead. I’ll jump in myself after you. Ray got up off the couch and goes through his backpack. he picks out a pair of presumably clean underwear. He walked over to the bathroom. He grabbed a towel and closed the door. Walt took the time to set the scene for his brother. He took out a pipe and torch and placed them on the coffee table in front of the couch. He went over to one of his stash spots and pulled out some pills and a baggie of big shards. He left the pills on the table with his glass of coke and g. He knew his brother would see them right away. Walt packed his pipe and picked up the torch. He melted the shard and took a big hit. He took a few more hits leaving the pipe with one, maybe two good hits. He placed it down on the table. He blew out his cloud and hid the current baggie of Tina. He walked over to the bathroom. He opens the door just as his brother was coming out of the shower. They shared a room together when they lived at home so walking in on each other in various states of undress was normal for them. Ray put on a pair of boxers that he brought with him and walked out to the living room. Walt jumped in the shower. He kept thinking of his brothers round ass and started to chub up a bit. He changes the water to cold to calm himself own. W: All in good time. Chapter 2 – Getting despirate Ray walked out to the living room and sat down at the couch in his boxers. This was his brother’s pad so he felt comfortable enough. He had taken a quick shower so that the steam wouldn’t get him lightheaded when the G kicked in. He glances down at the coffee table and spots the random pills. He thought fuck-it! and threw the 2 mystery pills into his mouth. He picked up his brother’s glass with the spiked soda and downed that too. He picked up the pipe laid down before him and turned on the torch. He heated the bowl of the pipe until the white smoke started to accumulate. He took a huge rip and blew out a large cloud. R: There we go. Ray immediately torched the bowl again and took another big hit. He held onto it and then released. He looked at the empty bowl and though time for a refill. He laid back on the couch and waited for his brother. As he lay there sitting on the couch, the G was starting to kick in and relaxed his posture. He pulled out his phone and started watching some straight porn. He was so into the video that he didn’t hear his older brother reenter the room. Walt walked into the room in just a pair of his own boxers. And why not, it was his home after all. His brother was the one making himself at home without any fuss. Walt walked over and sat right next to his brother. Ray woke from his fixation and greeted his brother. They started laughing at the porn on the phone and making stupid comments about the overacting. Ray was really feeling like he was stuck in the couch. The G was strong after all. Walt noticed his brother in this state and reached down under the couch where he stashed his baggie of shards. W: looks like you overshot the mark with the G. Here, this should help balance you out. Walt packed the bowl, took his hit, and handed it to his brother. The brothers passed the pipe back and forth a bit until it was empty again. Walt knew his brother. He knew what level of high he was at and it was barely off the ground. Walt packed another bowl. Hitting it and passing to his broher, he said: W: Okay this is it man. That’s all I can smoke up. The rest I have to sell. Ray took his hit and started to worry. He took 2 more hits before passing it back to Walt. R: What if I paid for some more? W: How much cash do you have? R: No, I only have like 20. W: that ain’t going to get you much bro. Sorry but I have to put on my dealer hat on this. This is business. Even for family. Ray took the last hit off the pipe and held it in as long as he could. He released the cloud and stared at his brother defeated. R: What do you bargain with other guys? I’m pretty desperate. Come on bro, I’ll do anything. Walt felt the lightbulb go off in his head. Bingo Chapter 3 – I’ll Do Anything R: What would you have anyone else do to score some T? John Doe comes up to you and is in this predicament. What do you bargain with him? W: I don’t know that you are that desperate. I don’t know. Ray lowered his head in shame. R: I’ll suck on it. Walt saw his defeated brother and he licked his lips. W: What was that? R: I’ll suck you off if I can smoke more. I really need it. W: You want my cock? My cock for some more tina? Is that it? R: I guess. W: okay … I’ll bring the party if your gonna play. You’re gonna be my tina whore tonight? R: Yes. If I have to. Walt stands up and grabs the pipe and refills with a big shard. He lights it up and blows out a white cloud toward his brother. W: Well, first off, drop those boxers. I like my boys to be naked. And come over hear on your knees and show me you really mean it. Once I know you are serious, I’ll get you fucked up. Ray drops his underwear and walks over a few steps to his older brother’s front. He gets down on his knees and pulls the underwear off his brother. He gets an inch from the dick in front of him. R: I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know… W: I’ll bring the party if you bring the play. Now go on now, start things off. Ray opens up and takes the dickhead in mouth. Walt feels the warmth of a new recruit. He feels his dick starting to grow in his brother’s mouth. W: yeah, good boy. Yeah suck that growing dick. Walt’s dick started to get hard but stayed at half full. He hands the pipe down to his brother. W: Here you go, smoke up a bit. I want you to take two hits. On the third, get back to sucking me off. I wanna see clouds around my dick. The sound of the torch starting up fills the room. One hit, two hits, and number three. The mouth returns to Walt’s semi hard dick. Walk looks down as the smoke flows from the boy’s mouth around his dick. This is just what he needed to get to fully hard. The younger brother pulls away and torch hits the pipe again. Four more huge hits with more and more dick in his throat. Walt is now thrusting straight into Ray’s throat. Now, Walt had heard through the grapevine that his brother has sucked a dick for tina before but he was surprised he was able to deepthroat his thick 8 inches. He was fucking the throat and watching the smoke come out of the boy’s nose and corners of his mouth. Only the occasional cough and gag betrayed how new Ray was to sucking big dick. Walt picks the boy up and throws him toward the couch. Chapter 4 – Head Down Ass Up W: Get on your knees with your ass towards me. Ray obeyed and got on his knees. R: oh, hey. I don’t know about this. This might be a little too much. Walt just reloaded the pipe and handed it over to Ray. Not one to deny a loaded pipe, Ray withdrew his protests and bent over the couch and started to hit the pipe. He drew in a large hit and was about to release when he felt something wet press against his asshole. He moaned as the smoke escaped his mouth. Walt used his tongue to attack Ray’s twitching hole. He ate out that boy’s hole like it was his last meal. Walt pulled back a moment and looked at the glistening hole before him. He pushed two fingers into the straight boy hole as he took in another hit. Moans filled the air as Ray was finger fucked by two fingers. More spit and three fingers were now in the boy hole, stretching it open. The next big hit from the pipe allowed Walt to push in four fingers. The hole barely let them in but four fingers were in. This made the boy try to reach behind himself to pull the fingers out. Walt reached under the boy an found Ray’s dick hard as can be. W: I see that you found my pills. Thought you might. Fucking whore. Walt pulled his fingers out and pushed up against the boy’s ass. His cock rubbing against the line between the cheeks. Precum wet the ass crack as he thrusted against the boy. Ray began to panic when he felt his brother’s head at the entrance to his hole. His mind was screaming no but his quivering asshole was begging for something more than fingers. Ray wasn’t that stupid. He knew that to get fucked when high was an experience. A lot of guys love it. He just never thought it was something he would do. As if he knew what Ray was thinking, he thrust in and the tip pushed inside Ray. R: OMG, fuck that’s thick. W: that’s only my head. It’s not even at the thick part yet. Walt pulls out and reached under the couch again. This time he pulls out a bottle of laced lube. He quickly fingers some into his brother before he has time to change his mind. Walt places his dickhead at the entrance right as Ray starts complaining about the burning inside of him from the lube. Walt thrusts in and gets the head back in. He thrusts again and gets halfway inside of Ray. R: fuuuuuuuuuck W. I know. I know. It’s almost in there. A third thrust pushes him all the way in. Ray can feel his brothers balls against his ass crack. R: fuuuuuuuuck W: I’m gonna leave it there a moment so you can get used to it inside of you. Walt reaches around to his brother’s chest. He touches his nipples and squeezes them slightly. This sends jolts throughout Ray’s body causing him to push back against the dick. He didn’t think he could get more dick inside of him but it felt like an extra inch was pushed inside of him. Walt continued to play with Ray’s nipples and the boy began to pull away and push back into his brother’s dick. W: Yeah, that’s right. Fuck yourself on my dick. Milk my seed right out of me. Ray continued to fuck himself on his big brother’s dick. It did not take long for the huge load to be worked up and finally shot up into his younger brother. W: yeaaahhhhh. Walt pulled out of the whore he just filled with his sperm. Ray was still head down ass up on the couch. Walt walked away and came back with his phone. Ray couldn’t see it but he heard the camera sound coming from behind him. Walt was taking pictures of him bent over, showing off his cum filled ass. R: Hey, what the fuck are you doing? W: Just needed a picture to get my friend over here. R: Okay let me get dressed and I’ll head out. W: oh no, you’re not leaving. Get some rest. I’m treating you like any other whore that gets seeded for drugs. The homies want a taste too. R: I don’t know about this. I’m pretty high now. this was fun and all that but I don’t know about someone else seeing me like this. W: you fucking junkie whore. You never have enough. You’ll stay and you’ll like it. I told you I was going to bring the party. Don’t worry you have some time to rest. Walt walks back to the kitchen and come back with another glass of coke and G. W: here, this will calm you down some and help you rest for a bit. Ray takes the drink and gulps it down. This time the taste was more bitter than last time. W: Come follow me. He gets up and follows Walt into the bedroom. Once inside, Ray was guided to the edge of the bed with his untouched dick standing straight up against just under his belly button. Walt turns on the tv and connects it to his laptop. He starts playing porn and Ray starts jerking off without even thinking. Just a natural response to being so tweaked out. While Ray is busy with a video of two men double teaming a twink, and jerking off, Walt gets on his phone and sends out a few texts. He gets someone to answer back immediately. His friend loved the pic of the used hole. Walt tells him to head over. After a short while, the G starts to kick in and Ray sinks back into the bed. He lays back and blacks out.

It was the morning of my 18th birthday! My folks were out of town but they had given me permission to have some friends over to celebrate. I planned on my buddies coming over around 8 o'clock that night. What I hadn't planned on was waking up to find all the lights in the house flickering on and off. Fortunately, my parents had left an emergency list on the kitchen counter in case any problems came up. Sure enough, Electrician - Roger Davis, was on the list. I called him and he said he would be by in an hour or two. I made myself some breakfast and was in the middle of exercising when the doorbell rang. I answered it wearing only a skimpy pair of workout shorts and a tank top. Standing there was the electrician. He spoke, "Hi, son! I'm Roger Davis. Most people know me as Ol' Roger! Can I come in?" He didn't look old at all to me and I told him so. His face lit up in a broad grin. "Thank you, son! That's nice of you to say! You look pretty good yourself! Now...can you show me where the power box is? In the basement maybe?" I took him down into our basement. My dad had fixed it up years ago so it was pretty comfortable down there...like a play room! I showed him where the electric panel was located. He said, "Give me a few minutes to check things out." I sat down on the sofa we had down there. I told him about my party that night...how excited I was. He was a handsome guy and he noticed I that kept looking at him. He would just look back at me and smile. That kind of flustered me so I mostly babbled on about inconsequential stuff. After about 15 minutes, he said, "There! That should take care of it!" and he flipped on the master switch. All the lights came back on without a trace of flickering. He looked at me with interest and said, "Most guys would be upstairs texting their girlfriends instead of sitting down here talking with Ol' Roger. I'm wondering...is there somethin' else I can do for you?" In response, I turned beet red. He slowly pulled his t-shirt up over his head and tossed it onto his toolbox. I'd never seen a Biohazard tattoo on a man before, but I knew full well what it signified. It sure made me nervous but it kinda turned me on as well. His smile stretched wider. "You lookin' to get fucked, son? You want my big black dick, do ya? I bet you're a VIRGIN, ain't ya?" He saw me trembling and said, "You're not scared of Ol' Roger, are you?" I WAS...but I didn't want him to know that so I blurted, "I'm not afraid of you!" He asked, "You think you can handle what I got?" I hotly replied, "I can handle ANYTHING!" "His response was, "We'll see about that!" With that he advanced upon me. I backed up until my legs hit the sofa. He pushed my chest, toppling me backwards onto the cushions. In one swift motion he had yanked down my shorts and thrown them aside. Before I could even think of escaping, he bent over and engulfed my dick with his warm wet mouth. It was like everything in my brain suddenly got reset. As his lips moved up and down my shaft and his tongue swirled around the head of my cock, my resistance faded completely away. He put his strong calloused hands under my knees and raised my legs up in the air. As they parted, he stepped between them and placed my ankles on his shoulders. I heard the sound of his zipper being lowered and softer sounds as he shed his pants. I felt the tip of his cock poke into my ball sac. He gazed down at me and said with a smile, "It's your Birthday, Baby! Ol' Roger has a Special Gift for you!" I could figure out what he meant by that. He was planning on putting his infected cum inside me. I remembered that some guys called that GIFTING. My thoughts whirled. How could I stop this from happening? Just then, he parked his stiff dick against my hole, ready to invade my innards, so I clenched my sphincter, determined to keep him out. His smile never wavered! "You KNOW you want it," he crooned as he gently started a backwards and forwards motion with his hips. On the third or fourth push, my body betrayed me. My clenched hole relaxed slightly. Just enough for his dick to nudge in about an inch or two. "That's it, Baby!" he sighed! "Just let it happen!" The gentle battering continued, and with each thrust, his penis sank in a little deeper...and deeper still...until I felt his pubes against my ass cheeks. He paused for a moment and then the fucking began in earnest. 10 minutes later he stiffened, shuddered and cried out, "Take my dirty seed!" as he shot his toxic sperm deep within me. After we both caught our breaths, he pulled out of me, stood up and got dressed. He looked at me and said, "Your mom & dad are gonna be real surprised when you test HIV-positive in a couple of months! If they throw your faggot ass out, don't worry! You can always come live with Ol' Roger. Plenty of the punks I’ve pozzed now live with me. I pimp them out to sick fucks that pay good money just to fuck an AIDS WHORE. I'll put you to work out there with the other punks I've given my bug to. You'll see...being a Poz Whore ain't so bad!”

Quick Sniffies hook-up this morning with a smooth young femboy staying in my hotel. Stopped by his room after my workout to find door open and him ass up in bed. Ate out his creamy sloppy hole to warm him up (he got bred last night by a bbc)…I nailed his ass to the bed and then pumped a 5-day load into him…and then ate that out as well. Zipped up and left Couldn’t stop thinking about that warm slick pussy just begging to be fucked so I went back an hour later and used my own load as lube to ream his ass again…then dumped a second even bigger nutt into his guts . Hoping to stop by and breed my boy again later tonight.

Just breed a guy with a nice muscle ass that already had two loads in it. My BBC came out covered in cum. I shot a huge load up his ass. He is going to hit me up again when he has a cum filled hole.

Chapter 4 He was home, but not in the way he’d understood the word for forty-one years. This wasn't the house in Preston Hollow; this was a state of being. The real Nate, the man buried under layers of tailored suits, stock reports, and suffocating grief, was finally clawing his way out of the gauze. The chrysalis of his former life had cracked, and he was emerging, wet and trembling, into a new and brilliant light. And the first thing he needed to do, the only thing that mattered, was to get to know the magnificent son he had made. Geoff, ever the willing vessel, climbed back into the sling, his body limp and radiant from the intensity of his own experience. Nate approached him not as a conqueror, but as a worshipper. He knelt, his knees touching the cool tile floor, and began to cover his son. He pressed his lips to every inch of skin he could find—his ankles, his shins, his knees. He kissed the powerful muscles of his thighs, the hard planes of his stomach, the sensitive skin of his chest. He kissed the state championship medal that still hung around Geoff’s neck, then moved to his neck, his jaw, his closed eyelids. It was a baptism of kisses, an anointment, a father rediscovering his own creation. Slowly, reverently, Nate worked his way back down. He bypassed the jutting cock, still slick from their earlier union, and continued lower. He pushed Geoff’s legs back, exposing the beautiful, slightly swollen, well-used boihole. He had never known. He had never even imagined. He leaned in and inhaled the musky, primal scent of his son, of his own seed mingled with his brother’s. He tentatively stuck out his tongue and tasted. It was a feast. A salty, metallic, deeply personal feast that was more intoxicating than any drug. He lapped at the tender flesh, his tongue probing, tasting, claiming. He was devouring his son, and in doing so, devouring the last of his own inhibitions. Rising to his feet, his own nine-inch cock throbbing with a need that was almost painful, Nate positioned himself at the entrance to this new heaven. He looked into Geoff’s eyes, which were now open and watching him with an expression of pure, unadulterated love. There was no urgency, no frenzy. This was something else entirely. He entered his son ever so gently, a slow, deliberate slide that felt like coming home for the first time. The well-used hole welcomed him, yielding to his length, the heat enveloping him completely. They made love like a father and son should. Nate’s thrusts were deep and measured, each one a promise, each one a declaration of a love that transcended all societal boundaries. He wasn't just fucking his son; he was healing him, and healing himself. Their bodies moved in a sacred, synchronized rhythm, a dance of creation and reunion. The world outside the room ceased to exist. There was only the sling, the two of them, and the profound, soul-shattering connection that flowed between them. The pressure built not in their loins, but in their hearts, a crescendo of emotion that could no longer be contained. Nate felt his climax rising from the depths of his soul, and he saw the same awareness dawn in Geoff’s eyes. As one, they cried out, their voices mingling in a single, perfect chord of release. Nate’s cock pulsed, flooding his son’s body with a second, even more potent offering of his essence, while Geoff’s own cock spurted thick ropes of cum across his heaving chest. They climaxed in unison, a perfect, synchronized explosion of father and son, their bodies locked together, their spirits finally, irrevocably, one.

Chapter 6 (brought to you by @pozzible and Venice.ai) Kyle Simmons watched the scene unfold with the calm, predatory patience of a hunter who had been tracking his prey for years. But this wasn't a hunt. This was an ordination. Nate, his oldest friend, his brother-in-arms from the wrestling mats, was finally where he was always meant to be: spread open, vulnerable, his hole glistening and already leaking the precious seed of his own son. The air in the room was a holy perfume of sweat, sex, and chemicals, the incense of their new church. He stepped forward, his massive frame eclipsing the light from the hallway. He saw the flicker of old-world fear and shame in Nate's eyes, the last dying embers of the man who worried about portfolios and PTA meetings. Kyle was here to extinguish those embers and fan the flames of the man who was being born. "Kyle," Nate breathed, the name a prayer and a confession. "Nate," Kyle rumbled, his voice a low gravel that vibrated in his own chest. He ran a hand over his own belly, feeling the raised edges of the black scorpion tattoo. "Heard you were finally joining the club." He was wearing only a towel around his waist, the standard uniform of the spa. With a single, sharp tug, he released it, letting it fall to the floor. His ten-inch cock sprang free, a formidable weapon, thick and veiny, a tool of his trade that had stealthed countless men, a ghost in the night, leaving his mark without a word. But tonight was different. Tonight, he would be a god, and his name would be known. He stepped into the room, his eyes locking onto Nate’s well-fucked, cum-leaking hole. "Been a long time, my friend," he said, stroking his monstrous shaft, the foreskin pulling back to reveal a glistening, angry head. "But I'm not gonna be a ghost this time. You're gonna feel every inch of this. And you're gonna know exactly what I'm giving you." As Kyle positioned himself between Nate's legs, Brandon moved with the quiet efficiency of a high priest preparing a sacrifice. In his hand was a syringe, already loaded with a clear, viscous liquid. He found a prominent vein on Kyle's powerful bicep, the muscle corded with years of discipline. "Time for the sacrament, Coach," Brandon murmured. Kyle didn't flinch as the needle slid home and the plunger was depressed. He simply inhaled sharply as the fire slammed into his bloodstream, his eyes rolling back for a second before snapping open, burning with a new, feral intensity. At the same time, Geoff knelt by the sling. He held the glass pipe, the bowl glowing cherry red as he inhaled. But he didn't shotgun it. Instead, he leaned down and pressed his lips to his father's well-used hole, creating a seal. He exhaled, forcing a thick cloud of chem-smoke directly into Nate's ass. Nate gasped, his body arching as the potent vapor was absorbed directly into the sensitive tissues, his hole instantly buzzing, tingling, and opening like a flower in the sun. Kyle ran a calloused finger up the inside of Nate's thigh, making him shudder. "I've been waiting for this, Nate," Kyle said, his voice a low growl, amplified by the slam. "All those years I watched you on the mat, I saw the fire in you. But you were always holding back. Always playing by their rules." He leaned in, his face inches from Nate's now steaming hole. "This is our rule now. The only one that matters." He spat, a thick wad of saliva landing directly on Nate's puckered entrance. He used the head of his cock to smear it around, mixing it with Geoff's leaking cum and the lingering cloud of smoke. "You see, that boy of yours… he gave you the key. He unlocked the door. But I'm the one who's gonna show you what's on the other side." He pushed the thick head of his cock against the slick, swollen ring. "This is the Scorpion's gift, Nate. A lineage of pure, unadulterated power. It’s gonna burn through you, remake you from the inside out." With a slow, inexorable push, he began to enter. Nate cried out, his back arching off the leather. Kyle was bigger than Geoff, thicker, and his entry was a statement of pure, unadulterated dominance. "Fuck yeah, that's it," Kyle grunted, feeding another inch into the tight, velvety heat. "Take that fucking poz dick. Feel me opening you up." He brought his hand down in a sharp, stinging slap on Nate's ass. SMACK! "This hole belongs to the brotherhood now!" He began to move, his strokes long and powerful, each one a lesson in submission. He wasn't just fucking; he was sculpting, rearranging Nate's insides to fit his own massive shape. "Breathe through it, Nate," he coached, his hips pistoning. "Open up for me. Let me in. You need this. You've always needed this." Geoff leaned down, his face next to his father's. "You see, Dad? This is what it's all about. This is the family we always should have been." He dribbled spit into Nate's open, gasping mouth. The sight of his friend, his protégé, now a man and a dominant in his own right, sent a fresh wave of lust through Kyle. He grabbed Nate's hips, his grip like iron, and began to pound in earnest, the sound of his heavy balls slapping against Nate's ass filling the room. He was a machine, a relentless force of nature, and Nate was the earth he was plowing. "Time for your real seeding, my friend," Kyle roared, his rhythm turning brutal. "Time to give you my fucking toxic gift!" He slammed into Nate one last time, burying himself to the hilt. His body went rigid, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as his cock erupted, pumping a massive, infectious load deep into Nate's guts. It was a flood, a torrent of his very essence, the Scorpion's venom finding its new home. Nate screamed, a sound of pure, agonizing ecstasy as he felt the hot, potent flood fill him, triggering his own explosive orgasm, his cock firing ropes of cum across his chest and stomach. Kyle stayed plugged in for a long moment, his chest heaving, ensuring every last drop was deposited. He slowly pulled out, and a river of cum, his and Geoff's, flowed from Nate's gaping, well-used hole. But the ritual wasn't over. Brandon stepped forward, a black permanent marker in his hand. He nodded at Kyle, who took it from him. The coach looked down at Nate, who was lying limp, spent, and radiant in the sling. His face was a mask of sublime surrender. "We claim you," Kyle said, his voice now solemn, a priest performing the final rite. He uncapped the marker and, with a steady hand, drew a perfect, stark biohazard trefoil on Nate's forehead. It was a brand more profound than any ink on skin. It was a mark of ownership, of purpose, of a new birth. "He is one of us now," Kyle declared to the room, to the universe. "He is Biohazard."

Republicans control the House, the Senate, the Presidency, the Federal Courts, and many state governments, so yes let's here the critiques about how it's the Democrats that are ruining everything....

Chapter1 - The Dallas heat was a physical presence, pressing down on the manicured lawns of the Preston Hollow neighborhood. Inside the sprawling, glass-walled house that served as his home, Geoff felt a familiar, restless energy. It had been a month since graduation, a month since the state championship trophy was placed on the mantle, and the accolades already felt like relics from someone else’s life. At eighteen, he was a king without a kingdom, his body a coiled spring of muscle and ambition with nowhere to direct it. He found his father and uncle by the pool, two mirror images of masculine perfection. Nate, his father, was on a lounge chair, scrolling through his phone, the sharp lines of his suit from a morning meeting replaced by the relaxed ease of designer swim trunks. Brandon, his uncle, was in the water, executing a flawless, powerful butterfly stroke that cut the turquoise surface like a knife. They were identical twins, both forty-one, both devastatingly handsome with the same dark hair, square jaws, and powerful builds honed by their respective professions. Nate’s power was financial, a quiet, commanding authority; Brandon’s was physical, a vibrant, kinetic energy that had always drawn Geoff in. “Get in here, you lazy punk!” Brandon called, shaking water from his hair like a dog. “Your old man’s going to turn into a fossil over there.” Nate didn’t look up from his phone. “I’m managing our portfolio, not turning into a fossil. There’s a difference. It involves making money, something you two should consider.” Geoff laughed and dove in, the cool water a shock against his sun-warmed skin. The three of them fell into their familiar rhythm of roughhousing. It was a language they spoke fluently, a mix of wrestling holds, dunking contests, and verbal jabs. Geoff, the state champion, was a formidable opponent, but the combined strength and experience of the two men was overwhelming. They were a tangle of muscle and laughter, the water churning around them. Brandon would grab Geoff in a playful headlock, and Nate would join in to tickle his ribs until he gasped for air, surrendering with a splash. It was horseplay, but it was also intimacy, a way of touching and reaffirming their bond that was as natural as breathing. After nearly an hour, they collapsed onto the plush, sun-drenched lounge chairs, chests heaving. Nate, ever the provider, produced a bottle of expensive, coconut-scented tanning oil. “Alright, you animals. On your stomachs. You don’t want to burn.” Geoff and Brandon complied, lying side by side, their faces turned toward each other on the padded arms of the chairs. Nate knelt between them, pouring the cool oil into his palms. He started with Brandon, his strong hands working the oil into the broad expanse of his brother’s back, his movements practiced and efficient. Then he moved to Geoff. His touch was gentler on his son, a paternal caress that still carried the memory of rubbing sunscreen on a small boy at the beach. He worked his way down Geoff’s back, over the sculpted ridges of his wrestler’s lats, toward the small of his back. As his thumbs swept just above the waistband of Geoff’s black Speedo, they froze. Nate’s hands hovered for a second, then he leaned in closer, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What the hell is this?” he asked, his voice low. Geoff twisted his head to look back, a smirk playing on his lips. Brandon, propped on his elbows, watched his brother with an unreadable expression. Nate’s gaze was fixed on Geoff’s lower back, just inches above the stark white tan line. There, inked into the skin, was the unmistakable, stark symbol: a black and yellow biohazard trefoil. Without thinking, Nate’s eyes flicked to his brother, who was still lying on his stomach. He reached over and hooked a thumb into the waistband of Brandon’s Speedo, pulling it down just an inch. There it was. An identical mark. A perfect match. He sat back on his heels, the playful atmosphere evaporating, replaced by a sudden, sharp tension. The air felt thick. “Brandon?” Nate’s voice was tight, a mix of confusion and alarm. “Geoff? What is this? What is going on?” Brandon finally rolled over, sitting up. He looked at Nate, his expression calm, almost serene. He reached out and rested a hand on Geoff’s still-oiled back. “It’s a symbol, Nate. It’s about a choice. A community.” “What kind of community uses a symbol for toxic waste?” Nate shot back, his voice rising. He looked from his brother to his son, his face a mask of paternal concern. “Geoff, you’re eighteen. This is… this is permanent. What kind of influence is this?” He glared at Brandon, the accusation clear. Brandon stood up, his powerful body glistening in the sun. He looked down at his twin, his brother, his roommate. There was no anger in his eyes, only a profound certainty. “Stop worrying, Nate. It’s not what you think.” He paused, letting the weight of his next words land. “You want to know what it means? You want to understand?” He gestured towards the house with a nod of his head. “Then you need to come with us tonight. The Midtowne Spa. Everything will be revealed there.”

I glanced at the slip of paper again as I turned left down the hall. It was a printout of a three-line e-mail I received two days earlier. The first line cited the address of a small hotel downtown and a room number at that hotel. The second line contained today's date, Saturday the eighteenth. The third line was the time - seven o'clock P.M., nearly an hour away. It was more than enough time for me to get ready. The email was from Jerry. I'm not sure how to describe my relationship with him. He's not my 'Daddy' and he's not really my 'Master'. I guess it would be most accurate to describe him as my owner. I met him when my ex did some match-making. He knew my kinks and what an insatiable bottom I had become, and he knew what kind of relationship I wanted to explore. Sometime after we broke up (which was on good terms), my ex contacted me and said he'd met someone who might be compatible with my desires. Jerry and I swapped some photos, exchanged a few emails, and met for a couple of fuck sessions before I drew up the contract. Basically, the contract stated that for the period of seventeen months Jerry owned me. I was his property - all six feet, one hundred-sixty pounds of me. Not his 'boy', just his property. He told me what to wear (if anything), when to sleep, when to eat, and I had to ask permission to use the bathroom. He made all my decisions. Most importantly (to me, at least) he owned my body. I became nothing more than a toy for him to use for his pleasure however and whenever he saw fit. As he instructed, I spent more time at his place than mine, and while in his presence was almost always naked. In addition, Jerry forbade me from speaking without having first obtained permission. I usually only ever spoke to answer a question or ask to use the bathroom. Most of the time his answer was yes. He would grope me whenever I walked past (and I would always wait until he was finished before continuing on my way), feed me his piss if he was out working in the yard and didn't want to come in, or just didn't feel like getting up, and even mounted me in the kitchen once while I was washing dishes at the sink. I felt his hand on my ass and heard his zipper, so I set down the dish I was holding, spread my feet apart, and leaned forward so he could enter me. With his hands on my shoulders, he rode me in silence for a few minutes, except for some grunting, and then ruffled my hair when he pulled out. He did that a lot, and it made me feel like I was seventeen, instead of twenty-seven. Friday nights after dinner, when he frequently instructed me to 'get ready for company', which I knew meant that I should wash, inside and out, and then climb into the bed in the second bedroom. I knew to then slip my legs into a large, wide loop of fabric, somewhat stretchy, (although not as much as a bungee cord), and settle just above my knees. Then I'd lay back and hook the strap behind my neck so it would keep my legs spread and my feet in the air. There were two pairs of handcuffs attached to the headboard, but I could only fasten one myself. Jerry would come in to fasten the other before company arrived. In addition he would also sometimes affix a blindfold. 'Company' consisted of a few friends of his with high-stress jobs who needed some relief by the end of the week. Not a grudge-fuck per-se, just a serious hard-pounding, heart-rate-elevating, ball-draining session. Judging from the way that some of them would collapse and melt against me after blasting like a cannon, they really needed it. And I was happy to be of service. His friends would stop in at other times as well. Sometimes in the middle of the week he would even call them to let them know I was there, and they would take turns using me on the living room floor. Sometimes they didn't take turns, but just used me both at once. Occasionally one of Jerry's buds would bring a friend of his own that Jerry hadn't met. I always thought it was hot to hear his bud make introductions, and hear Jerry talk about me as though I wasn't there. He make comments such as "Yeah, it's nice and tight, you'll love it," and "Use 'em as a urinal too, either hole. Doesn't matter." I found it really hot that he treated me as if I wasn't even a person, just a couple of holes for them to use. I was a urinal, but not a toilet (no scat). That was one stipulation on which we had both agreed. But I never thought twice about spreading for any of them because I had signed a contract. Jerry owned me, and decided who fucked me and how they could use me. Jerry even decided whether or not they used a rubber. He hardly ever wore one himself, and guys usually used me bare. I assumed those guys who wrapped were poz, and in any event, every two months Jerry took me to a different clinic, and instructed me to get tested for HIV. As this was one of the stipulations he wanted in our contract, I had no reason to object. I never actually saw the results of the HIV screening as, when the results came in the mail, I always handed over the un-opened envelope to Jerry. As I had given Jerry a copy of the key to my apartment, I wasn't all that surprised when, on a few occasions, I was awakened in the middle of the night to find a strange man undressing in the bedroom of my own apartment, who explained his presence by saying "Jerry sent me." On one such occasion I awoke when such man was handcuffing me to my own headboard. I'd rub my eyes and mumble, "Oh, okay," then pull the covers back and pull my knees up to spread for him. It always amused me how the man would instantly bone up when he saw that I understood why he was there. And as soon as the man unloaded, he would unceremoniously dress and split, so I would just roll over and go back to sleep. On this occasion I arrived at the hotel room and stuffed the note into my pocket as I turned the knob, not bothering to knock. The door was unlocked as usual, and I let myself in, locking it behind me. I'd unlock it again later. I stripped, folded my clothes, and put them into a small suitcase that Jerry had left in the middle of the bed. Then I showered, took an enema, and unlocked the door to place the suitcase in the hall outside the door. Jerry had set up a few parties like this in hotels before. He would send his friends to find me in the room already naked and ready for use. Usually he was there too, but a couple of times he was absent. Leaving the door unlocked, I selected two pairs of handcuffs from among the other toys Jerry had left in the room. By first attaching them to my wrists I was also able to cuff both of my wrists to the headboard. Then all I had to do was wait. I lay on my back...spread...naked...watching the doorway. The door to the hallway was out of my line of vision, but I watched the doorway to the bedroom with my heart racing and my cock so hard I thought the skin would split. I watched the clock on the nightstand...seven thirty, seven thirty-three, seven thirty-seven. Finally, I heard the door open slowly, and someone called, "Hello? Do I have the right room?" "Yes," I replied, as I saw him move into the doorway. "Nice...!" he said with a grin as he pulled off his shirt. He was about fifty, with a receding hairline, but in very good shape for a man of his age. Then he pulled off his shoes, and I heard the door open again. He looked over his shoulder and called, "This is it, man! In here!" A bearish red-haired man in his forties moved into the doorway, and grinned when he saw me. I didn't know either of them, but I thought the redhead looked familiar. I watched them both undress, and they kept grinning at me. Then the redhead said, "Jerry showed us a photo, but it wasn't a nude." Then I extended the formal invitation that Jerry taught me was appropriate for the times that he wasn't present. "I am Jerry's cumdump, and he's decided to share me with you for the night. Use me however you want. Toys and lube are on the desk, if you like. There are only three rules...No scat. No permanent marks. Condoms are, of course, optional." "Jerry is very generous," said the first guy, and he took the bottle of lube off the desk and handed it to his friend. "You go first, man. I gotta piss." The redhead took the bottle, lubed his cock, and climbed onto the bed. So did the first man. Then I understood. I tilted my head back a bit and opened my mouth as he straddled my face. He dropped his semi-hard cock into my mouth and I started to suck. After two or three pulls, I felt his piss filling my mouth and began to gulp. Salty and bitter, I kept swallowing as I felt his friend lift my legs onto his shoulders and work his cock into me. "Aw, damn that feels good. Drink it all, kid." The redhead groaned and kept pushing steadily until he was balls-deep. Then he started a steady rhythm of fucking with my cock mashed under his furry belly, leaking pre-cum like a faucet. I thought I heard them making out over me, but of course I couldn't see anything. When the first guy was finished pissing, I kept sucking his cock until it got hard. I heard movement in the room, and the first guy said, "Hey guys, c'mon in and take a number." Finally, the redhead slammed into me, and I felt him shudder as he emptied his balls into me. "Fuck!" he grunted as he pulled out and got off the bed. Then the first guy pulled out of my mouth and moved between my legs, announcing "My turn!" When he moved out of the way, I could see that the new guys to arrive were three black men, all pretty fit. I placed their ages from twenty-something to late fifties. Jerry seemed to really enjoy watching me being used by black men. I remember one hotel party that was all black men except for Jerry himself. Eleven men used me that night, several times each. I lost track of the number of loads I took then. This particular party was smaller, only seven men showed up in total. There were a few times when I was left alone in the room between men, just waiting for the next guy to show up. One guy even walked in and didn't even bother undressing. He just unzipped his fly, pulled out his cock, and shoved it in without any lube...not that he needed it with all the cumloads already in me. He fucked with deep grinding thrusts, like he was trying to climb up inside me, and when he finally came, he didn't make a sound...just a kind of grunting sigh. Then he pulled out, got up and left, slamming the door. I didn't even know that the session was over until the last guy pulled out and then undid my handcuffs. "That's it, man." he said. "I'm the last one." I rubbed my wrists to get the circulation going again. As he was dressing, he explained. "Jerry couldn't make it this time, but he gave me a letter to give you. It's on the desk." Then he just said, "See ya," and left. I took another shower, and washed out all the cum, then went to the hall to get the suitcase. I was glad that it was still there. Once, the housekeeping staff had picked it up by mistake, and I had to call the front desk so they could bring it back. I got dressed, packed the suitcase with the un-used toys from the desk, and left it at the foot of the bed. I didn't bother making up the bed, because I knew that Housekeeping would want to change the sheets. On my way out, I picked up the letter from the desk, and locked the door. I was a little surprised that Jerry wasn't there this time, since it was the last day of our contract and his last opportunity to use me. I figured the letter would explain. I opened the envelope as I walked down the hall and pulled out a single sheet. It was very short, and read: "Steven--the seventeen months are over, and I hereby release you from your contract. I am very pleased to have had the opportunity to own you, even for a short time, and have been extremely satisfied with your service. I should tell you that your HIV test from March came back positive." (It was now October) "You may have noticed about that time I began wearing condoms when I used you. Regardless, I will gladly provide a glowing reference to any future owners seeking to enter into a contract with you. Jerry. Masterful1@gmail.com" I read that third sentence again. And again. I wasn't sure how I felt about it. Relieved? Glad? Betrayed? After all, I DID give up complete control to HIM. I gave myself up for him to use, and he did use me. He used me and abused me, taking full advantage of the control he had over me. That was what I had wanted. That was what had gotten me so turned on - to be used with total disregard - however Jerry saw fit. And apparently he saw fit to let me be used by poz men. It must have been part of Jerry's fantasy to use a neg bottom until the bottom converted, knowing that he, Jerry, had forever changed the bottom's life. Or was it? Did he actually try to get me infected, or had it just happened...I can't really say 'accidentally', rather...un-intentionally. I guess I wouldn't know unless I actually asked him. I stood there staring at the note for several minutes. Finally, I decided that I would send him an email and ask if he was interested in renewing our contract.

Does a sauna count? took 7 cocks and got 4 loads, love public sex where guys can see I'm an easy fuck.

This afternoon; local sex cinema. Took two loads.

Chapter 11 The warm weight of Scott’s hand on his, the raw honesty of his story, the smoky burn of the whiskey—it all coalesced into a single, throbbing point of heat in Jordan’s gut. He was completely unaware of the effect it was having on his body, the blood rushing south so fast it left him lightheaded. His thin basketball shorts, worn without underwear as always, provided no defense. A fierce, six-inch erection tented the fabric, the tip already damp with a bead of precum that seeped through the grey cotton, leaving a tiny, dark patch. He only realized his own state when he traced Scott’s gaze. Those dark, intense eyes weren’t on his face anymore. They were fixed, unblinking, on the prominent bulge in his lap. Jordan’s own eyes flicked down, then back up to Scott’s khakis. A mirror image. A thick, heavy outline strained against the tan fabric, unmistakable and just as eager. Seconds stretched, thick and silent, charged with a current so potent Jordan could barely breathe. Scott was the one to break it, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that vibrated through the space between them. “I’ve been like this,” he admitted, his eyes flicking back up to meet Jordan’s, “Hard as a goddamn rock… all day. Ever since I…” He didn’t need to finish. Ever since I saw you. Something primal and fearless uncoiled inside Jordan, speaking with a voice that wasn’t entirely his own. “Did you like it?” The question hung in the air, bold and naked. “What you saw? You...want to see more?” Scott’s answer was immediate, a raw exhalation. “Yes.” A thrill, sharp and electric, shot down Jordan’s spine. “My room,” he whispered, the plan forming in a hazy, lust-drunk instant. “Wait until Mom’s asleep. Come to my room.” An hour later, the house was dark and silent. The soft click of his door opening sent Jordan’s heart into a wild rhythm. Scott stood there, silhouetted in the doorway, having traded his button-down for a simple pair of black gym shorts that did little to hide the formidable swell of his cock. He stepped inside and closed the door with a quiet, final sound. Jordan’s nerves were a live wire, his hands trembling slightly. He didn’t know what he was doing, only what he wanted. He fumbled for his phone on the nightstand, his thumb swiping until he found the video. He turned the screen toward Scott. It was the clip Jared had recorded. Jordan on his knees, lips stretched around Blake’s thick, curved cock, his eyes rolled back in pleasure. Scott’s eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. He stared, mesmerized, as the movie played out on the small screen. Jordan watched him instead, studying the rapid flicker of emotions on his stepdad’s face: shock, hunger, pure, unadulterated lust. His own hand slipped inside his shorts, fingers wrapping around his aching hardness. A soft groan escaped his lips as he gave himself a slow, slick stroke. Scott’s gaze snapped from the screen to Jordan’s hand moving under his shorts. That was all the permission he needed. With a guttural sound, Scott’s large hand plunged into his own gym shorts. His eyes fell shut for a moment, his head tipping back as his fist began to move, the fabric stretching and tightening over his frantic motion. He was the first to break the barrier. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband, he pushed his shorts down his powerful thighs in one rough motion. His cock sprang free, and Jordan’s mouth went dry. It was massive, thick and cut, rising from a dense thatch of dark hair. Heavy balls swung beneath it, already drawn up tight. A glistening pearl of precum already crowned the slit. Emboldened, Jordan mimicked him, shoving his own shorts down to his ankles. They stood there, just feet apart, their erections bobbing in the dim light, the only sound their ragged breathing and the wet, rhythmic stroking of their own fists. Scott’s eyes were locked on Jordan’s smaller, slick cock, watching the way his hand glided over the flushed head with each pass. “So wet,” Scott murmured, his own strokes becoming louder, slicker, sloppy sounding. “You too,” Jordan breathed out, mesmerized by the sheer, glistening size of the older man, by the way his thick fingers struggled to close around his girth. The visual was overwhelming—the contrast of their bodies, the [banned word] of it all, the raw hunger in Scott’s eyes. His hips began to thrust forward, fucking his own fist. “Fuck, this is so hot.” “Yeah, it has to be our little secret.” Scott grunted, his pace increasing, his other hand cupping and roughly kneading his heavy balls. “Just like that. Show me. Let me see you get off.” The command, so similar to Jared’s yet so entirely different, sent Jordan spiraling. His back arched, his free hand gripping his own thigh for support. He was close, so close, teetering on the edge. Scott was breathing in harsh gasps, his muscular body tensing, a sheen of sweat coating his chest. “I’m close, I'm so close. I'm cumm…!” Jordan choked out, his orgasm roaring up from his toes. Scott’s hand flew off his own cock and clamped over his own mouth, stifling a deep, guttural roar as his hips thrust into empty air. Thick, white ropes of cum shot from his pulsating cock, landing in his own waiting palm, pumping again and again until his hand was overflowing. The sight was Jordan’s undoing. With a cry that was half-sob, half-moan, his own release tore through him. His cum splattered across his stomach and thighs in hot, frantic spurts, his entire body trembling with the force of it. For a long moment, the only sound was their heavy, spent panting. Scott, still holding his messy hand away from himself, gathered his composure with a sharp, almost military precision. He cleaned himself with a tissue from the nightstand, pulled up his shorts, and without another word, turned and left the room, made the "Shh" gesture wit his finger to his mouth, closing the door softly behind him. Jordan collapsed back onto his bed, the scent of sex and whiskey and man thick in the air. His mind was a blissful, overloaded blank. Exhaustion pulled him under, and he fell into a deep, instant sleep, his body sated and his world irrevocably changed.

Chapter 3 The rhythm of Brandon’s hips grew more urgent, his powerful thrusts driving deeper into the sling. Geoff was no longer just moaning; he was sobbing with pleasure, his body taut as a bowstring. Brandon reached down, wrapping a hand around Geoff’s cock, which was already leaking a steady stream of fluid. With a few expert strokes timed perfectly with a final, grinding thrust, Geoff’s entire body seized. He let out a raw, guttural scream as his cock pulsed and erupted, not with a normal ejaculation, but with a full-body, prostate-shattering assgasm that left him trembling and spent in the leather harness. Brandon slowly withdrew, a look of profound satisfaction on his face. He turned to Nate, who was still frozen against the wall, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and raw desire. Brandon gestured him forward with a crooked finger. As Nate approached, Brandon took a long, deep hit from the pipe, then leaned in, pressing his lips to Nate’s. Nate, startled but pliant, opened his mouth, and Brandon exhaled the thick, acrid cloud directly into his lungs. Nate coughed, his head spinning, but then leaned back in for more. They shotgunned back and forth, sharing the potent smoke, their mouths lingering, the line between uncle and nephew, brother and brother, blurring into a hazy, chem-fueled intimacy. “He’s yours now, Dad,” Brandon whispered, his voice husky. “Make it count.” He stepped aside, leaving a clear path to the boy in the sling. Geoff, recovering from his intense climax, looked up at his father, his eyes glassy and full of love and want. Nate felt a tremor run through him. This was the ultimate [banned word], the final wall. He dropped his towel, his own cock achingly hard. He stepped between his son’s legs, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He guided his cock to Geoff’s well-used, puffy hole, still slick with lube and his uncle’s load. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, the heat and tightness a revelation. A profound bliss washed over Nate, a feeling of rightness, of coming home. This wasn't just sex; it was a connection deeper than any he had ever known. He began to move, slowly at first, then with more confidence, his hips finding a rhythm that was ancient and primal. Geoff wrapped his legs around his father’s waist, pulling him in deeper, their bodies moving as one. The long, deep fuck melted into a timeless, blissful union, a silent conversation between father and son, spoken only in the language of flesh. Nate’s entire world had shrunk to this room, to this feeling, to the perfect union with his firstborn son. After an eternity, Nate’s movements slowed. He pulled out, his body glistening with sweat. He looked at Brandon, then at Geoff, a new understanding dawning in his eyes. It was his turn. Without a word, he climbed into the sling, his powerful, muscular body settling into the leather. He felt a strange mix of terror and exhilaration. He was exposing himself completely, not just physically, but emotionally. He was about to give up the one thing he’d never shared with anyone. As he got comfortable, Brandon moved to the backpack. He returned not with a syringe, but with a nice-sized shard of crystal, glistening under the dim light. He knelt behind Nate, who watched him with wide, questioning eyes. Brandon gently spread his brother’s virgin ass cheeks and, without preamble, slipped the shard deep inside Nate’s tight, untouched hole. A sharp, burning sensation immediately began to bloom, a fire that promised to become an inferno. Brandon positioned himself, his own cock still hard and ready. He looked Nate dead in the eye. “Time to join the family, brother.” With one powerful, relentless thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, breaching Nate for the first time. The pain was immediate and intense, a white-hot fire that ripped through him. But beneath it, the shard was already dissolving, sending a wave of pure, crystalline pleasure directly into his bloodstream. The pain and pleasure collided, fused, and exploded into a sensation so profound it was agonizing. Brandon went in for the kill, his hips pounding, claiming his twin’s virginity with brutal, loving force. Through the haze of tears and overwhelming sensation, Nate saw Geoff get up from his chair. The boy approached the sling, his face a mask of love and lust. He leaned down, his lips finding his father’s. As Brandon continued to ravage his newly broken hole, Nate and his son curled into each other, a kissing, crying, blubbering mess. Nate was sobbing openly, the last of his old self shattered, his virgin hole taken by his twin while his son claimed his mouth in a soul-searing kiss. He was no longer just Nate, the buttoned-up hedge fund manager. He was theirs. He was home.

It’s been a while since I last wrote a story. This one ended up being about 37,000 words and 72 pages. I'm not a professional writer and I’m sure there are flaws—my apologies in advance. I really enjoy hearing feedback and hearing about others’ experiences and stories. Piggier, the better. If you have a memorable moment you’d like to share, feel free to do so. I’m eager to hear it. I’d also love to hear your feedback on this story. Where do you think it’s headed? I made my fortune playing footy in my early days. I was a rugby player and played for 10 years. Fuck they were good times on and off the field. On the field, I was a sought-after player, consistently named player of the match, won two Brownlow Medals, and was one of the highest-paid players in the league at the time. Off the field, I was a wild one. I had a girlfriend at the beginning, and got her pregnant, but it didn’t take long to venture out. It started with partying, drinking, drugs, and out with the boys. Management struggled to control the media’s coverage. Then I started fucking around behind my girlfriend’s back. I would hit the brothels and fuck a couple of hookers, eventually just picking up any willing chick that made a move on me at the bars. My girlfriend at the time knew, and it wasn’t long before we split and she left, taking the young lad with her. My partying continued. I’d snort countless lines of coke and fuck an endless number of chicks. I didn’t care if it hit the media. I was fucking wild. The then house parties would begin. The footy lads would get together, hot birds were invited over, and the same thing would happen. Cocaine and pussy. But something changed. I tried a gangbang, and something flipped. Yeah, being in footy, we would see each other in the change rooms naked, and weird shit would happen like arse smacking and fag name-calling on several occasions. We would torture the player who performed the worst by pinning him down and pissing on him. But I never felt the tingly feeling I felt when I experienced my first gangbang. Watching these strong men with their rock-hard dicks jerking off while they watched their teammate fuck the blond bombshell flicked a switch inside me. Sharing the moment with hot men watching another man’s arse cheeks squeeze and release with every stroke of his cock driving deeper inside her cunt was driving me wild. There was one moment I vividly remember: I paid close attention to the beads of sweat forming on one mate’s back as the heat radiated from his body, the deep, burly moans with each thrust, and his muscles flexing with every movement. I had to refrain from touching my cock when I watched my mate pulsate and moan, unleashing his load. He would pull out, cock glistening from pussy juice and cum. Instantly, my mind went to thoughts of getting on my knees and sucking it clean. I didn’t know what was going on. Was it all the cocaine? Probably. I didn’t know. My cock was as hard as solid steel. I thought my knob was going to burst open. Every bit of my willpower was in overdrive. Three teammates fucked her. Her cunt was spewing cum. She would scoop a little bit out with her long pink silicone nail and lick it off with her tongue. What a slut. ‘Your turn, mate.’ Fuck! I was hypnotised entirely, I didn’t realise I was up next. All the fella’s who just fucked her had some huge cocks on them. Thick, veiny, long and rock solid. I have a big cock, but not to their grandeur. I knelt between her legs. Cunt spread open, cum seeping out. My cock throbbed at the sight. I tried my best to change my thoughts, but my willpower was running on fumes. I pressed my knob on her pussy. The wet, warm cum slathered it. No lube needed. I pushed in, and that was all it took, and I just unloaded in her with one stroke. My body pulsed, and it felt like every bit of my life force was sucked out of me through my cock and into her. ‘What?!’ ‘No way.’ All I could hear behind me was my teammates laughing at me as I prematurely ejaculated inside the whores used cunt. She looked at me with a sigh of disappointment, but I was too busy trying to regain my consciousness. I pulled out. My cock was soaked in cum. I couldn’t resist and scooped a bit off my shaft and placed it on my tongue. ‘Wow! Fuck!’ ‘He’s gonna do it.’ ‘Urgh!’ ‘He’s a spunk eater.’ That I did, all I could hear was the other rugby players laughing, calling me filthy names and saying how grouse that was. My mind, however, was sparking all kinds of feelings throughout my body; their name-calling had become distant sounds and noise. I was hooked. Life took a turn. I got too reckless, and the club management couldn’t deflect the press. Eventually, images of eating out pussy and my face coated in random men’s cum were released, and I lost my contract. My career dried up. I am now 52 and work for a logistics company dealing in global trading, and in my downtime, I coach a local high school football team. I met a hot bird who, despite her knowledge of my perverted background, still found an interest in me. She was young, 34 and a banging arse. I learned that she was into older men, particularly ex-footy players. Our sex life started like any. I’d get on top of her and bang her until I unloaded. I had little care-factor if she came or enjoyed it. It was all about me. I think she put up with it because of my fame and money. She was pretty happy to be used as a fuck rag so long as she could lounge around in my penthouse apartment overlooking the skyline of Melbourne. Then, those thoughts of a caked-up pussy flooded my mind, and soon I was eating her out after I blew my load in her. She knew my shady past and let it happen. This wasn’t enough. Over time, my deep urges overpowered. I missed the drugs. I missed the gangbangs and wild sex parties. I started on the Coke again. Drinking. She, too, began to join in. Then one day, after a coaching session with the school football team, I walked into my apartment, still sweaty and smelly from the session, wearing my sports gear, and heard noises coming from the lounge area. The evening light was shining through the wall-to-wall glass panels, and I couldn’t believe what I walked into. My then wife bent over the couch, facing the Melbourne skyline, with a random bloke banging her from behind. I froze. Shocked at first. Thoughts racing. How long had she been doing this? In my place. Who else has fucked her? How could I not have known? Is he wearing a condom? Is he going to cum in her? I felt my cock harden at the thoughts. I watched as he gripped her hips and thrusted in her hard and fast. Arse clenching at every pump. Moans erupting from both her and him. He then grabbed her blonde hair with both her hands and banged hard. Moans got louder. ‘Yeah, baby. I’m gonna cum.’ She moaned louder. I think I heard a ‘yes’ in there somewhere. His pumps grew shorter, more frantic. I watched her arse cheeks ripple with every pound from the guy. ‘I’m cumming! Arrghh. Yeahh. Fuckkk.’ I couldn’t resist and pulled out my cock and jerked off at the sight. It seemed like a long time while he shot his load, and he eventually pulled out. Indeed, he fuck her without protection. His long cock glistened through the evening light, reflecting off the moist pussy juice and cum. His knob was still throbbing from the aftermath of his ejaculation. And her pussy gaped with pearly white cum seeping out, dripping on the black leather couch. She turned her head. ‘Oh. Hi honey. Seems you are enjoying the show.’ She teased, as she wiggled her perky arse. The bloke then realised I was there, jerking furiously at what I had just walked into. ‘Holly shit! Your husband is here.’ He looked left and right, hoping his clothes were nearby, in response to the unexpected voyeurism. I then recognised him as the daytime receptionist from the apartment building’s lobby. I stared at his softening cock and the matted pubes trailing up his abdomen. I wanted to lick it, then shook the thought away. That’s gay. No way. Then looked at my wife’s pussy, still dripping with cum. I stepped out of my shorts and jocks and walked over and pushed my cock in her. It was barely a second, and I was cumming in gallons. I had not felt an intense orgasm like that since the times I was in gangbangs fucking used up cunts. I slowly pulled out. My cock too was glistening from all the cum and juices. I scooped what I could off my cock and licked it off my hand. My cock continued to throb. I couldn’t resist. I bent down to my knees and planted my face into her cunt. I ate and sucked and drove my tongue into her. She moaned. I was lost in my own mind. Drowning in the salty taste of my spunk mixed with the reception guy’s. I could feel it smearing my face and dripping down my chin. I jerked off furiously. No telling how long I was down there, but eventually I pulled away, gasping for breath. I turned to see the bloke just staring at me with a horrid expression. Seeing my face drenched in cum like a starving dog just freshly nourished was too much for him. He grabbed his scattered clothes and walked out, still naked. Have your input. What do you think happens next?

I have been wanting to share my story which is based on true events that happened November 2022. I’d been lurking on this site for years, jerking to the stories, putting myself in every single one of them. All the wildest ones had one thing in common: Tina. They swore she turned regular sex into something next-level, something spiritual. I was 31, Black, thick-ass bottom, and I finally needed to know if the hype was real. I didn’t know a single soul who sold T. My usual menu was weed and poppers, nothing harder. But I knew the code words cold: PnP, ❄️, clouds, “parTy,” ice emojis. So I opened Grindr, set the filters, and started hunting. That’s when Jess popped up. Black trans girl, gorgeous in that raw, late-night way. Profile full of ass shots and the little snowflake emoji. I sent the message before I could overthink it. Me Hey. First time ever trying Tina. Got $30 cash. Can you grab for me and keep some for yourself? Jess Hey cutie! Yeah I can help you out. $30 works. Where you at right now? Me Not far. Can pull up anywhere you say. Jess Cool. Can you pull up? I’ll come down to the car. Ten minutes? I drove a short 6 minutes to her. She walked out looking exactly like someone who’d already had a long night: wild curly wig, smeared lipstick, tiny halter top, Daisy Dukes so short the pockets hung lower than the shorts, skinny but curvy where it counted, and the biggest, friendliest smile. “Heyyy baby!” she said, sliding into my passenger seat. “You’re cute as hell. First time for real?” “For real,” I laughed, handing her the folded bills. “I don’t really know what to expect.” She took the money, tucked it in her bra, and pulled out a tiny baggie with nice shards sparkling inside. “Some straight fire. You’re gonna love her.” She handed it over with a wink. “This some good shit, trust me. Text me later and tell me how she treats you.” I thanked her, she hopped out, gave me one last smile, and that was it. Polite, quick, easy. Drove home buzzing with nerves and excitement. Got in the house, locked the door, and stared at the baggie like it was a winning lottery ticket. Didn’t have a pipe, didn’t know what the hell I was doing. So first I broke off a tiny piece, stuffed it in a Black & Mild, and smoked it like weed. Tasted awful, but twenty minutes later a warm little wave rolled through me. Not crazy, but enough to make me grin like an idiot and say out loud, “Okay… feels pretty good. I get it now.” An hour of gooning later I wanted the real deal. I took a fat about .15 shard, crushed it just a little, smeared lube all over my thick dildo on the fuck machine, and rolled the crystal right onto the tip. Got on all fours, backed up slow, and let it slide in. That famous burn hit instantly: sharp, fiery, perfect. I held still, letting it melt inside me, letting it soak in. Five minutes in, the switch flipped. My whole body lit up. My ass turned into one hungry, pulsing mouth. I started rocking back faster, then faster, then I just flipped the machine on high and let it rail me. Creamy lube started foaming around the shaft. My dick stayed soft (exactly like the stories said), and that made me even hornier. I grabbed my phone with shaky hands, opened Grindr again, and every ounce of fear was gone. Scrolled till I found him: “BBC 4 fat ass – can travel.” While the machine was still pounding me into another planet, I typed one-handed: Me Dick looking great and need BBC in this phat ass right now. Are condoms cool? I sent some ass pics and one of me on my fuck machine. His reply came instantly: “Damn! I need that… WYA.” I dropped my location (something I never, ever do). Twenty minutes later the doorbell rang. I opened it and there stood Nico: tall, dark, low-cut dreads, easy smile, and the thickest nine-and-a-half-inch dick I’d ever seen already swinging heavy in his sweats. I pulled him straight to the bedroom, dropped to my knees, and inhaled that beautiful, veiny monster raw. I never liked sucking dick before; it was just foreplay. Tina turned me into a different man. I worshipped that dick like it was paying my rent. A few minutes of sloppy head and I was already spinning around, spreading my cheeks. “Condom?” I managed to gasp. He rolled one on, lined up, and sank in balls-deep. Nothing in my life had ever felt that good. Every stroke lit me up from the inside. I was moaning like a porn star, pushing back, begging him to go harder. Ten minutes of pounding and Nico groaned, slammed deep, and filled the rubber. I wanted more. Went to clean him off with my mouth, but he laughed, pulled away: “Too sensitive, bro.” I joked, “If you’re sensitive now, imagine if you would’ve fucked me raw and came inside.” That made him grin wide. “Tell you what, my boy’s at the hotel with me and he loved your pics. But he only plays raw. You want both of us to run a train on that ass raw?” I froze for a second. My ass was twitching, and the thought of raw dick for the first time, by not one guy but two, which would also mean my first creampies ever… I knew this was a crossroad. A choice that would change everything. Then I smiled. “Give me ten minutes to shower and I’m there.” I closed the door behind Nico and hopped in the shower quick, water steaming hot. While I rinsed off I slid two soapy fingers inside myself, feeling how loose and hungry I still was, picturing Nico and his boy taking turns with those big raw dicks, pumping load after load deep in my guts, watching it drip down my thighs all night. I laughed under the spray, soft-dicked and hornier than I’d ever been in my life. Then I paused, towel in hand, staring at the little baggie still sitting on the counter. I wanted another bump, bad. Just enough to keep the fire roaring when those two raw dicks got in me. But I wasn’t stupid; I still had to drive across town, and the first booty-bump was already singing loud in my blood. I broke off a small shard anyway, slipped it into a tiny fold of paper, and tucked it deep in my sweats pocket with a single dab of lube in a travel packet I grabbed from the drawer. Plan was set: soon as I parked at the hotel, I’d hop in the back seat, reach back quick, slide it in, and let it melt while I walked inside already buzzing harder than ever. They’d never know I was secretly topping myself off. I threw on fresh grey sweats grabbed my keys, and headed out the door. Two raw loads were waiting… and in ten minutes I was gonna be freshly spun and ready to beg for both of them. End...for now.

Went to a guys house last night, older. Said he was 50s but I think he was 60s. He had a nice thick cock though so I don't care. We stripped and I was very eager to get his cock in my throat. We fooled around a bit then he got me on my back, fucked me for a while before eventually dumping his load in. Little did he know I had been fucked before I went over so I was already loaded also by an older guy with a thick cock. I was pretty loose at the end and happy

Okay, I'm not all that upset about the AI - which might sound strange coming from a writer. Aside from my blog on this site, I've been paid as a writer much of my life - art reviewer, theater reviewer, weekly columnist, am a published poet, and two musicals and one play I've written have been performed by a number of theater companies - I mention this only since with that background you'd think I would LOATHE anything and everything about stories written by AI, and much of the time up until now that has been true. This story and one or two others elsewhere are different. I actually LIKE what's been written here so far. Either YOU gave the AI some exceptionally good guidance, or the algorithms are improving, or frankly both. There were far fewer breaks in continuity and far fewer absurdities in this than much of what I have encountered in the past. Yes, there's some cliche and repetition here, but let's face it, the "newcomer to chemsex" story does limit any writer and inevitably there are themes that will come up again and again in any of them. I liked that it was the FATHER being seduced by his SON with the help of his own twin brother, rather than Dad corrupting his Kid. I think the real sweet love fuck between Dad and Son should have come later, probably after the three returned home from a weekend at the bathhouse - Dad having an amazing time fucking his son, and the son returning the favor and giving Dad his first chemfuck would make more sense and propel us into a sybaritic bacchanalia at the bathhouse with lots and lots of other guys, instead of going there and keeping the door shut with just the three of them and the not-unexpected but still hoT addition of someone else dad knew coming in as a fourth... Hell, they could do THAT at home, why come to a bathhouse and then pull back from initiating Dad into a wanton chemfueled piggy orgy? (I'll also throw in that the kid going off on the "this hole is mine" bull sincerely limits the fun and completely negates bringing Dad to the bathhouse and does not let Dad have any joy in the opening of his hole, his sexuality and his worldview... let the man have some freaking fun first before all that is brought in, if in fact it needs to be brought in at all! That segment is very cliche and again limits the story line - I do know some will disagree with me there, so this one is just my own personal preference). So, you asked for suggestions going on: Let's see the Coach take Dad and help Dad discover that he can take as well as give, but really allow him to indulge his now hungry hole. Lots more men need to join him or he needs to be taken to a more public setting at the club. This is all in the Third Person - it would be great to switch perspectives: allow posts where we "hear" Dad's thoughts and see through his eyes on this new world and new life he's being initiated into, let us feel what he feels as he takes cock after cock and stretches his sexuality wider and wider with each new guy as well as feel his joy when he's topping his son and HELL YES topping his twin , as well as parts where we see through the son's eyes as he revels in converting his dad, and see through his brother's eyes as he enjoys his sex as well as his power trip with his twin and maybe bring him down just a peg or two and get him fucked by his twin and others as well. After the bathhouse, how about some posts about Dad catching up to his brother and son, having chemsex sessions with other men (with his son and brother and solo also), and maybe add one or two unexpected encounters along the way, until eventually Dad joins Son and his Twin in helping convert other guys to poz chemsluts... Just some suggestions - thanks for the story, and thanks for being upfront about the AI part in it, please don't take all this as criticism as I am enjoying this very much, and please continue the story and any others you want to write! @Pozzible

I’d rather have a good neighbor than another notch in my bedpost truth be told.

Got a train ran on me this morning by multiple BBC's laying on top of a car hood in a empty parking lot

Older dude with a penile implant fucking me but good. He sucked a huge load outta me right after this.

I totally understand that. I only have a good idea because I started having sex with guys when slut shaming was massive. I was expected to find a guy partner and be just like a hetero relationship, but with two guys, including sexula monogamy. I rejected that and much to the horror of my friends and disgust of a few then former friends, I indulged. I kept a count just to scandalize them. But as I became more aware that my numbers were not the norm, the more I wanted to keep a count just to see how massive a slut I was and could be. I wear my promiscuity and continually growing partner count on my sleeve and I encourage my fellow males to embrace it for the normality it really is. To know that I've had more sex partners in an afternoon than most males will enjoy in a lifetime ia huge rush to me and never gets old.

It always started the same way. Some kid trawling Scruff after hitting the bars cause he didn't get lucky. Eric smiled when the kid sent him a woof -- another kid that was going get more than he was looking for. Eric's cock twitched at the idea of breeding this boy. He worked out hard and was in great shape; he had ink in all the right places but had the attitude to back it up. The kid's stats were pretty hot -- 6'2", 185 lbs and 23 years old-- too young to be completely filled out, but well on his way. After a few more details, the kid was on his way over. Eric's cock began to stiffen and push against his jeans, betraying his eagerness to share his seed with the boy. He went to the dungeon and put on his harness, perfectly framing the biohazard tattoo on his chest. He was ready to give this boy the fuck of his life. Perfectly on cue, there was a knock on the door upstairs and Eric went up to greet him. Opening the door, the boy was startled and stammered out a hello. Pulling him inside and slamming the door behind him, Eric easily overwhelmed the kid and nailed him to the wall. Forcing his tongue into the boy's mouth, he gave the boy a preview of what would be happening to his ass in a few minutes. The kid was enthusiastic and immediately moved his hands down Eric's jeans to feel his stiff cock. It was nine by seven, and a number 2 gauge PA. His cock was the perfect tool to share his gift, especially with inexperienced kids like this boy. In seconds, Eric's jeans were on the floor and the boy's face was buried his crotch, face smashed into the leaking red jock. Grabbing the kid under his arms, Eric heaved him to his feet and pushed him down the stairs to the dungeon. Pulling his head into his right arm and forcing the boy's mouth open again, Eric unzipped the kid's shorts and shoved them to the ground. The kid was wearing a jock like he was told and was about to be rewarded for it. Guiding the boy over to the leather covered St. Andrew's Cross leaned against the wall, he smiled as he pushed the boy against the cross and spread his legs. Tracing his tongue from the back of the boy's neck to the band of his jock, he could taste the salty sweat of excitement. As Eric moved his hand to spread the kid's checks, he felt the boy relax. He began tongue fucking the boy's ass, getting it ready for his leaking cock. Reaching down to his own jock, he pushed the pouch to the side, letting out his cock and balls. Slowly, he stood up, tracing the kid's spine with his tongue back up to his neck, and wrapped his right arm around the boy's neck in a choker hold. As the boy began to protest, Eric bit his neck firmly and the kid relaxed -- Eric's profile said he liked it rough. Using his free hand, he guided his dripping cock to just behind the boy's cunt and grinned. Without warning, he pushed his full 230 pounds of muscle down on the little bitch and impaled him with one stroke. As he felt his PA against the boy's hole, he instinctively tightened his arm around the boy's neck and forced his cock inside the kid. The boy tried to pull his ass off of Eric's cock, but the cross was in front and Eric's cock was behind. It was no use trying to get away. Eric was stronger than the boy by a long shot and his arm was like steel around the kid's neck. For just a second, he flashed back to his own youth when he was in the same position as this boy, about to be given a gift that would change his life forever. Amused by the boy's reaction, he began relentlessly pounding his cock into the boy's ass. Since that day ten years earlier, Eric had never worn a rubber. The kid would soon understand the gift he was about to receive and like Eric, would soon want nothing more than to share it. Pushing harder and deeper into the young stud's cunt, Eric's balls slapped the boy's ass with fury. The fire in his balls burned as the boy struggled. And then, the feeling started -- a gentle tingle deep in his balls began to stir. Smashing the boy's hips into the cross, the fire in his balls was quickly building pressure and urgency. The little cunt was about to feel the gift exploding from Eric's cock, flooding him from the inside and sharing the dark gift with him. Grinning with the thought of what was about to happen, he slammed his cock as deep into the kid as possible, and then it began. He screamed with pleasure as the boy's ass, wrecked from the viscous fucking, seemed to seize on his cock. As his balls pumped the dirty seed into the boy, he thrust harder and harder careful not to waste one drop of seed. The boy's ass tightened, drinking the dark gift that began burning his innocent cunt. As wave after wave of diseased seed flowed into the boy's guts, Eric felt him relax. He'd felt it before, a man getting his first taste of poison cum, suddenly realizes the gift. Eric's seed was doing its work, passing into the stud's veins, burning into his soul and converting him. Eric thanked his Lord for the boy impaled on his cock as he continued to shoot streams of burning seed into him. The boy was a man now, a brother; forever a servant, branded with the dark seed. Eric's work was done for the night. As the last drops of Eric's seed were greedily swallowed by the boy's ass, he leaned forward to his ear and whispered "Welcome, my brother." Unlike his entry into the boy, Eric began to slowly pull his cock out. Covered in dirty slime, he admired the look of his tool and the tight ass that was reluctantly letting his cock withdraw. As his head began to emerge, he noticed a few thick pieces of cum, slightly obscuring his 999 tattoo. The boy, weak from being used turned around and looked into Eric's eyes. Eric saw the fire of the seed in the boy's eyes. Guiding his new brother gently down to his knees, he allowed the boy to clean the remaining cum from his cock and worship.

[think before following links] https://www.gaycities.com/articles/102558/new-study-reveals-the-cities-with-the-most-tops-and-bottoms/?utm_campaign=weekly-newsletter&utm_medium=email&utm_edition=202512030900&utm_source=newsletter

Chapter 2 The Texas night was thick and humid as they prepared to leave the house. The playful energy from the pool had been replaced by a charged, electric anticipation. Nate moved stiffly, his usual uniform of tailored slacks and a button-down shirt replaced by loose-fitting nylon shorts and a worn-out t-shirt from a long-ago charity run. It felt foreign, like a costume. Geoff, on the other hand, was in his element, his youthful body radiating a confident, almost predatory excitement. Brandon was the calm orchestrator, moving between them with a knowing ease. “Hydration is key,” he announced, handing them each a bottle of electric blue Gatorade. He then produced a small, unmarked bottle of clear liquid, adding a precise measure to each of their drinks. “And a little liquid courage never hurt anyone. Especially for your first time, big brother.” Nate took a hesitant sip, the sweet, chemical taste of the Gatorade mixing with a slightly salty, almost undetectable undertone. It was a jarring combination, much like the evening itself. He watched as Geoff and Brandon drank theirs without a second thought, their shared glance telling him this was a familiar ritual. The ride into Dallas in Brandon’s Porsche was a blur of city lights and thumping bass. Nate sat in the back, the leather seats cool against his skin, his mind racing. Midtowne Spa. The name itself sounded seedy, clandestine. He’d driven past the nondescript warehouse building a thousand times on his way to the office, never imagining what went on inside. Now, he was walking into the heart of it. At 9:30 PM, a line of men was already snaking out the door, a diverse mix of ages and builds, all sharing a similar look of intent. Brandon, however, didn’t even pause. He led them to a side entrance, rapping a specific rhythm on the metal door. It opened immediately, revealing a burly man with a thick beard. “Brandon, my man,” the man, Clark, grunted, pulling him into a rough hug. “Got it all set up for you. Sling room’s yours. Enjoy the party.” They moved through the dimly lit, labyrinthine hallways, the air thick with the scent of disinfectant, sweat, and something else… something chemically sweet and primal. The sounds were a symphony of grunts, moans, and the distant, rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh. Nate felt a knot of anxiety tighten in his gut. This was a world away from his carefully managed life of spreadsheets and stock tickers. The sling room was a small, private chamber dominated by a single, imposing piece of equipment: a black leather sling hanging from a heavy-duty chain in the center of the room. Shelves were lined with bottles of lube, poppers, and clean towels. Brandon tossed his backpack onto a bench, the sound of glass clinking together. “Alright, gentlemen,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “Time to get comfortable.” He stripped off his shorts and shirt, folding them neatly before wrapping a towel around his waist. Geoff followed suit, his movements fluid and confident. Nate hesitated for a moment before following their lead, the towel feeling flimsy and inadequate. From his backpack, Brandon produced a glass pipe and a small bag of crystalline shards. Nate’s eyes widened. He’d assumed the “liquid courage” was the main event. He watched as Brandon expertly heated the bowl, the white cloud of smoke swirling and growing. He took a deep hit, then passed the pipe to Geoff, who did the same. Nate, figuring it was just some exceptionally potent pot, decided he couldn’t look like a prude. He took the pipe, mimicked their movements, and inhaled. The smoke was harsh and acrid, unlike any marijuana he’d ever encountered. It hit him instantly, a rush of euphoria that made his head spin and his heart hammer in his chest. Geoff, his eyes now glassy and dilated, grinned and hopped into the sling, settling his lean, muscular body into the leather stirrups. He looked like a beautiful offering, a sacrifice to a new god. Nate watched, mesmerized and horrified, as Brandon pulled a rubber tourniquet from the backpack and tied it around his son’s bicep. “What are you doing?” Nate breathed, his voice barely a whisper. “Relax, Dad,” Geoff said, his voice dreamy and calm. Brandon handed him a small syringe. With a practiced hand, Geoff found a vein in the crook of his arm and pushed the plunger. A small bead of blood welled up as he released the tourniquet. He threw his head back, a guttural moan escaping his lips as the chemicals coursed through his system. His body arched in the sling, his cock suddenly rock hard and straining against the towel. Nate was frozen, his mind screaming in alarm, but the drug coursing through his veins kept him anchored to the spot, a passive observer to the unimaginable. Brandon offered him the syringe. “Your turn, Nate.” He shook his head, a silent, adamant refusal. He did, however, accept the pipe when it came back around, blowing another cloud into his lungs, the world dissolving into a haze of intense, abstract pleasure. Brandon propped the door open slightly, an invitation. Then he turned his attention to the boy in the sling. He positioned himself between Geoff’s spread legs, his own formidable cock hard and ready. He entered him slowly, deliberately, a long, deep thrust that made Geoff cry out. Brandon began to move, his hips rolling in a powerful, hypnotic rhythm as he slowly drilled into his nephew. Nate stood by the wall, his own forgotten towel tented, his mouth agog. He watched his identical twin’s powerful back flex and tense with each thrust. He watched his son’s face, a mask of pure, unadulterated ecstasy. The sight of Brandon’s thick cock disappearing into Geoff’s willing body, the sounds of their shared pleasure, the raw, uninhibited masculinity of it all… it was the most shocking, most transgressive, and without a doubt, the sexiest thing Nate had ever seen in his entire life. The buttoned-up hedge fund manager felt a wall inside himself crumble into dust. The night, he knew, was just getting started.

It had been a while since I had raw cock in me. I was craving it and one cock was not going to be enough. I messaged a guy who I had hooked up with before. We both like raw sex and had even dp’d a cumslut woman together then ate our loads out of her holes. I knew he preferred anon sex, so I made a new profile and asked if he could host anon breeding. He wrote back yes, and asked if a buddy could use me too. I responded with affirmation and a request to get more guys. We set up the time and I prepped. When I got to his place I went down to the couch in his basement, stripped naked and put a blindfold on my eyes. I then started hitting the poppers he had left there for me and waited. It seemed like forever before I had a cock touching my lips. Poppers turn me into an insatiable slut so I was quickly swallowing his entire cock and loving every minute. A few minutes later I heard the front door open and hands on my ass. Soon I was sucking cock and having my ass rimmed eagerly by someone. The two switched and I felt a cock push past my tight hole as I worked on the second cock. I was trotted a few minutes before I felt a cock on my cheek. I switched to it and continued getting fucked. Then I felt the first cock spasm in me and then he withdrew only to be replaced by a second cock. None of these were big cocks, but I got railed for nearly an hour and received all their cum multiple times. I never saw them once. I was a pig in heaven. I'm heading to Harrisburg Pa next week and I am working on finding a small group to service or a place where I can get anon bred while visiting. If you are in the area and can help dm me please!

Sunday evening. Whole Foods bathroom. Downtown Denver.

As one of those married guys that just needed to get off .. I have become a full on bottom only raw cum pig .. and love other married guys fucking me sensless

Freeze your loads for lube. Use your piss as an enema.

That’s certainly where I thought this would go. I’ll try to figure it out tomorrow.

You definitely should!!!

Thank you! Agree, I am completely comfortable with my inner slut.

Timmy Gets Stretched Hard As Timmy and Jerome began to come back to earth—Pedro could see the length of the cock sliding back down inside the boy’s flawless white torso towards Timmy’s belly button—Pedro leaned in to Timmy’s ear, “You ready for this big bull cock, boy?” It took Timmy a second to come to grips with the world outside his mind. But then he smiled like a Cheshire cat, his gorgeous twink innocence replaced by a mind obsessed with having all holes stretched and abused, and he whispered, “Please, sir, need big cock. Hurt me, open me, use me daddy.” Jerome slide his long black snake out, and a Timmy sighed, his hole already missing the feeling of being filled so deep. Pedro grabbed a quarter-gram vial with one hand and stroked his enormous, curved, ugly cock with his other hand. “Jerome, brother, can you squirt that boyhole full of that laced lube,” Pedro asked. Jerome obliged, sticking the tube deep into the boys open cunt and pushing out a huge volume of the sticky, tingling, Tina-laced xlube. Within seconds Timmy was pulling his ass open and begging to be filled. “Beg me to destroy your pussy, pigwhore,” Pedro demanded. Timmy immediately started chanting “Destroy my pussy, daddy, destroy me.” In one fluid motion Pedro dumped the 1/4 gram of Tina into his palm, made a bird-beak fist, and pushed into Timmy’s hole. Despite how loose hole, stretch was wide and very cruel, and Timmy cried out and then begsn screaming as Pedro began scooping the Tina out, burning the boys cunt with fire, desire and need. “Do some poppers, boy,” Pedro ordered. And Jerome helped the boy get fully poppered up. As soon as Pedro felt the boys hole start to respond to the fresh dose of Tina and the poppers he made his fist very, very slightly bigger and very, very, slowly began to pull his fist out of the fiery hole. “That’s called hole stretching, boy,” he said quietly to Timmy, who was riding a wave of desire to be destroyed mixed with the pain of the big stretch. “And I am going to stretch you long and hard tonight.” When Pedro’s hand got to its widest point in the boys rectum, Pedro paused, holding the boy at a wide stretch. At first Timmy struggled, but Jerome kept telling him, “Breathe slow and deep, let Pedro have your hole.” And so as Timmy did, Pedro felt the hole relax, and so Pedro pounced, flexing his knuckles slightly larger, as Timmy cried out, and then quickly Pedro pulled out. Timmy lay in the sling panting, as Jerome nibbled hard on his perky boy nipples. Then a dark light entered the young twinks eyes, and he said, “Fuck daddy, I love that stretch, more daddy, harder.” Pedro smiled and rammed his semi-hard cock into the boy’s hole balls deep. “”Fuuuuuck, that’s a thick dick,” Timmy cried out. Then he began to moan as he felt Pedro unleash a huge torrent of piss deep inside his second ring. “Lower his head, brother, so this piss can go deep.” Pedro said to Jerome, “He asked to be stretched so let’s do him.” Jerome lowered the boys upper body so that it was nearly upside down, and the piss began to trickle deeper inside the boy, who was already moaning and squirming with new dark desires. Working quickly, Jerome immobilized Timmy into the sling, putting straps keeping his arms and legs and chest and stomach from moving more than a few centimeters. He left one of Timmy’s arms frees to the elbow and handed the boy a fresh bottle of very strong Amsterdam poppers with a built in sniffer cap. “Use these anytime you need to open up,” Jerome said quietly, “And only tell us about the pain if it feels like we’re damaging you —like you did with Conrad.” Timmy nodded, but Jerome could see he was getting really spun. Pedro grunted and pulled out and pointed at Timmy’s hole. “Fill him up, brother, and feel free to start when you want” Pedro said, “And don’t go easy, he needs to learn his place as slave pussy tonight.” Jerome slid is long cock in—it always stayed a little extra long after a magic orgasm—and made sure his head entered the boys second hole, which he began to fill with yet more chem piss. Jerome immediately started feeling and stroking the boys hole with his fingers, shoving first two, the then three, now four long fingers imsid3 th3 boy. Finally, with one smooth motion he surrounded his cock with his entire hand and pushed it into the boys hole, and immediately began jacking his cock inside the boy. Timmy cried out and froze, spreading his legs wide, Jerome could feel the boys hole pulsing tightening and throbbing around his fist, and then the boy threw his head back and shouted, “Fuck me, daddy, fuck me hard.” Jerome could feel the boys hole opening up like a flower, the burning hot tissues of his colon fluttering and caressing his fist. He smiled darkly: the chempiss had kicked in and Timmy was ready for training. Jerome slid his cock out and shaped his fist into the narrow bird beak starting position and began to slide his arm into the boy. He was amazed that the boy took most of his hand right up to the kncuckles before Jerome felt any tightness. “Feel that, Timmy? That’s your second hole,” Jerome said softly, “That’s the hole your Daddy Conrad loves to stretch wide with his inflatable balls, did you like being stretched deep Timmy?” Timmy’s eyes were dark with lust and his comprehension wasn’t at its best, but he smiled and said, “Please, sir, will you stretch me deep too? Feels so slutty..use me daddy Jerome.” Jerome smiled down, “Oh believe me, boy, me and Pedro are gonna stretch you good so you’re nice and open for Pedro’s big bull dick.” He then gently flexed his hand, enjoying the look of lust on Timmy’s face. “So that’s the easy way of stretching your tense places inside,” Jerome said softly, “And now I am going to show you the hard way.” Working quickly Jerome slide his hand out until it was about midway inside the boy’s stretched-out inner first hole. He then made his fist much larger—not quite a full square and not locked into place—the boy was still a near-virgin and he didn’t want to tear anything, just hurt him,and he pulled his fist out fairly quickly, lodging its widest point—his knuckles—right at Timmy’s rectum. Timmy cried out in surprise and began panting. “Do a hit of poppers, piggy boy,” Jerome ordered. And the minute he felt the boy relax he push his hand back in and pulled it out, making his fist slightly bigger this time, stretching the boys rectum around his fist. “So, boy,” Jerome said with a serious tone, “I like to combine the easy way and the hard way when I stretch a boys hole.” “It’s in your best interest to work with me to get you stretched deep and wide my way,” Jerome said darkly, “Because Daddy Pedro has giant fists and he only likes to stretch boys the hard way. Are you gonna work with me, not complain, and huff on your poppers like a good pig slut?” Timmy nodded solemnly, his awareness focused now by the rough treatment. “Good boy, take several giant huffs, you gorgeous boy, and let me stretch you,” Jerome smiled. Timmy took several massive huffs off the poppers, and as it kicked in, Jerome got to work. Over on the other side of the room Pedro was busy getting reading to take the boy into the stratosphere. He gathered several half-gram vials as well as several 1/4 gram vials. Tearing off a few pieces of blue painter’s tape, he put a strip on top of two of the half gram vials. He then set all the other vials aside. He opened a capsule of X into each vial—looking up and grinning as Jerome was showing the boy what the “hard way of stretching” was like— he then took a 10 mg tablet of Valium, crushed it in the same mortar and pestle on the drugs table, and dumped this into one of the two vials. He wrapped a piece of blue tape around the bottle itself to separate it from the other. He then proceeded to crush a 5 mg tablet and dump it into the other blue-topped vial. He placed all the vials on a small rolling table and then grabbed another couple of bottles of lube—one marked super strong and the other light—indicate how much Tina was crushed and mixed into the mix. Pedro rolled the table around to the wall display of toys. He selected an inflatable buttplug—he couldn’t wait to take it up to beyond what the boy could handle and make him push it out—and then the huge, semi-rigid giant inflatable dildo as well as one of Conrad’s signature set of inflatable balls. He grabbed a few hard silicon sets of balls in various shapes in case Jerome wanted them, then a selection of buttplugs from large to giant. he laid all of this out on the second shelf of the rolling table. Next, he grabbed one of what they called “booty bump pistols.” This was a hard plastic device, shaped like a nightstick, with a handle and then a small, sliding door at one end. You then attached a long flexible tube with any number of different sized dildo heads on it. The idea was that you dropped the drugs into the opening the tube and closed it, threaded the tube with its head deep inside a boy, then the bulb was larger enough that one full pump would send the drugs deep inside a boys booty hole. He chose one with a head in between the size of his fist and Jerome’s, and then one a good bit bigger than his own. Finally he grabbed two skin bicep long textured fisting gloves, two huge thick rubber gloves, a couple of tit clamps, and a ball stretcher. These he laid out on the third shelf and went over to relax on the sofa and watch the show. Timmy was so overtaken with lust and need for the stretch that Jerome had unbound him from the sling and had him on all fours on a pad near the sling. He’d attached the boy’s ankle to a spreader bar, just to give Jerome something to keep control of the boy. Timmy was one hundred percent involved now in his own defilement—spreading his cheeks, begging for deeper stretching, moaning loudly when Jerome would punch him. Jerome was into the boy just past his forearm—Pedro was frankly amazed—and Jerome looked up and grinned as his friend settled in. “Toss me a quarter, brother,” Jerome said. When Jerome looked skeptical, Jerome just grinned and shrugged, all the while keeping up a steady firstfuck of the boy. Pedro picked up the booty pistol with the smaller head—in between his own fist and Jerome’s in size—and grinned. Jerome grinned back “Even better.” Pedro dumped the half-gram vial with the X and 10 mg of Valium and dumped it into the device. He rolled the table over beside Jerome and the boy, who was still begging for the fuck. Jerome pulled out and Pedro slipped the well-lubed head of the thing into the boys cunt. “Suck on that with your hole, Timmy,” Pedro order, “Try to draw it in.” The boy obeyed and with a little pushing on Pedro’s part they worked it in just to Timmy’s second hole. “Push out,” Jerome ordered, and as he did Pedro threaded the head about half-way into the second ring. Timmy gasped as Pedro tried to make sure it was in to a pretty wide point. Then he stopped “Huff on those poppers,” Pedro ordered, “Try to welcome that in.” Both Pedro and Jerome knew the toy wasn’t going anywhere—Pedro was holding the tube steady—but the boy looked so hot with the thing stretching him wide deep inside. Jerome leaned into Timmy’s ear, “I think it’s stuck, boy, want daddy to help that you fuck you a little deeper?” Timmy didn’t know what he thought but he knew the stretch was painful, so he panted “Yes, daddy, please take me deep.” Jerome smiled and Pedro handed him a quarter gram. Jerome lubed up, dumped the quarter into his palm, and made the thin bird shape around the tube and slid in, not stopping until he reached the toy. He sat that way, enjoy the way the boys fiery hole pulsed around his forearm. Timmy was pushing back, and so Jerome commanded “Six giant hits of those poppers each side, little pig, and then breathe deep.” After the boy had done six in one nostril, Jerome began to push the head, very slowly, through the second ring. At first Timmy was distracted by doing his other six popper huffs and the huge rush of drugs made his boy cunt open. Jerome entered him a full inch before his mind and body caught up and he groaned. Jerome did not stop, steadily, ever-so-slowly pushing deeper into the flaming boycunt, pushing the toy ahead of his still closed bird hand. “Deep breaths, sweet boy,” Jerome said softly, “Let your big black daddy take you there.” Jerome did not stop until Timmy was begging him to stop, his entire body rigid, and his face desperate. “Flex your hole around daddy’s arm,” Jerome ordered. Timmy was now exactly where he’d been before—Jerome was just at his elbow—but the big toy pushed ahead at least three inches and wide. And Timmy groaned and started shaking. “AGAIN, and clamp done harder this time,” Jerome ordered. Timmy moaned but complied, and then sighed, as his hole relaxed ever so slightly. Pedro nodded at Jerome who reached down with his free hand, grabbed Timmy by the back of his curly mane, and pulled back, arching his face up to see Pedro, legs splayed wide, monster, cobra-hooded bull cop hard as a rock. “In this life you are joining,” Pedro said quietly, “Sexually, you are slave meat.” Timmy nodded, “ Yes, sir.” “We bearers love and honor our boys in all ways. You will be treated better by your Lord Dimitri than any other man will treat you,” Pedro continued, “But sexually you are slave meat, without rights or choices, consigned to take pain or pleasure as we see fit.” Jerome now began to very very gently move his arm, beginning a very deep fuck. Timmy groaned and arched and cried out. “Lord Jerome is going to go even deeper in you now, boy,” Pedro said, “And you will take his arm with joy in your suffering, do you understand? Your suffering will please our Dark Lord.” Timmy, just barely able to focus beyond the intense stretch, managed, “Yes, sir.” “More poppers,” Jerome ordered, “And say the Litany.” A fast learner, Timmy slowly and deeply breathed several huge puffs of poppers. Squaring his shoulders—Jerome and Pedro smiled at the piggy resolve—Timmy began, “I am your hole, fill me with your seed, I am your….” Timmy cried out, as Jerome took him a full, sudden 1/4 inch deeper, then Timmy began moaning as Jerome began using long-practiced, almost imperceptible movements to deposit a few grains of the quarter gram deep in the boy. Timmy stayed rigid, and shaking, as Jerome stopped pushing the big hard plastic cockhead up his butt, the boy’s rectum mere centimeters from Jerome’s elbow. Pedro grinned. If Timmy were a more experienced pig—as he would be in just a few weeks time—that elbow would have already been inside his hole before this Tina gift was bestowed. Pedro watched silently, as Timmy struggled, then saw the dark energy surge from deep within the little boywhore. As an elder among the Brotherhood—Pedro was around 226 years old, give or take a few—the Mexican daddy with the huge fists and monster cock was beginning to develop the special senses required to trap and destroy human boycunt. While it was still a new skill—true elders of a thousand or more years could very nearly read bottoms minds—Pedro could see the outlines of desires, the need a drugged-out bottom was feeling for destruction. And so Pedro stood, stroking his monster, and cried out “Fuck him, Brother Jerome, his dark energy desires it.” And so Jerome began to every-so-slowly move his arm in and out, mere 1/8s of an inch at a time. Every time the boy loosened up he’d push a little deeper. Timmy groaned but obediently huffed on his poppers, which inevitably meant that Jerome was able to go even deeper. Pedro, meanwhile, was immobilizing the boy. He made Timmy arch his ass up high, and he tied his balls taut to the ceiling. He then affixed ome hand to another spreader bar and binding his elbow to the other so he could huff on his poppers. He did it wide so Timmy was forced to keep his chest flat against the floor, the perfect position for deep fist. Jerome was now about 3/4 of inch past his elbow into Timmy’s hole. He looked at Pedro who grained and said, do it. Jerome scooped the rest of the tin from his palm —it was probably more than half—and Timmy cried out and then within seconds his hole became hungrier. First, Jerome pushed in, getting almost to his bicep then he pulled back and started a bigger deep fuck of the boy. Even with his limited snake sight, he could see the boy was swimming in dark energy. He did this for about 20 minutes, fucking harder and harder and a bit deeper each time. Pedro lubed up his fist and grabbed the booty pistol. “Let’s light this ass up.” Jerome slid in and pushed past the deepest he’d gone, till Timmy was rigid. Pedro gave the bulb as big squeeze and within seconds Timmy started screaming as the 1/2 gram of Tina, the X, and the Valium entered his bloodstream almost immediately. Jerome slid his hand, now balled into a fist behind the big hard cockhead of the tube, out of Timmy in one go. As he pulled away, Pedro, his nocollapsable hand in the closest it would come to a bird shape, pounced. Pedro slid his big hand in slowly, but he didn’t pause. He slid until his knuckles were about to enter the boys inner ring. The kid was panting form the force what was essentially a .5 slam with ecstacy and Valium entering his blood stream. Within seconds the Valium reached his colon and his inner hole, and Pedro was rewarded when the boys inner ring opened and he slid his big hand in until he was buried wrist deep inside the boys inner ring. Timmy groaned, and spasmed a minute, panting and Pedro kept still. Then the boys hole loosened and Pedro slowing began a deep fistfuck. He first stretched the boys inner hole, and then once it started to loosed up he began to make his hand a little bigger and stretch the inner ring, then go back in. Once he was able to make a vey loose fist he brought his hand inside the boys first hole. Here he was more aggressive, creating space for his fist with determined movements. Then he very aggressively began to stretch the boys rectum, getting the boys closer and closer to a closed fist. He did this for a good 40 minutes or so. Then he started alternating, stretching both rings and spaces about 4 times each, over and over. As the boy started loosening up, Pedro pushed him ever-so-slightly on depth, claiming mere centimeters at a time. Then, just slightly before the boy was loose enough to do it easily, he made his hand into the smallest loose fist it could become and pulled out swiftly. Before the boy had a chance to really holler he was pushing the fist back in as deep as he could. He did this over and over and Timmy cried out “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” “Big fistfuck is right, piglet,” Pedro growled, the bull tattoo on his chest glowing, “Give me that hole.” As he did this over and over, roughly stretching Timmy’s hole, he saw dark energy swirling in the kids core. Timmy froze for an instant as Pedro’s nearly fully clenched fist drove in deep, then he shouted. “Fucking ruin my boycunt, Daddy, punch me! Punch me!” Pedro grinned, his cock rock hard, and he pushed into the boy a bit deeper. This triggered a massive anal orgasm so Pedro, lost to nothing but the velvet hotness of the boys inside and his desire to take everything the could give—and then more—he pulled his fist out and started punching. Pedro gave Timmy 75 hard punches, with Timmy roiling and assgaming constantly. Timmy was so out of it he didn’t even notice that Jerome had untied his balls from the bottom rung, and swing the tie bid I g his balls upwards to a pulley. With every couple of punches, Jerome would hang a small weight. When Pedro got to 50 in his count, Jerome spoke quietly—Timmy was making so much noise there was no point in whispering—“When you get to 75 punches go in and push him deep. I am going to teach this boy about getting his balls fucked.” So Pedro delivered the last 25, getting harder and harder as the boy cried out in pain/pleasure and then he pushed into the boys hole hard. Jerome hung a much larger weight—causing Timmy to groan and squirm—which allowed Pedro to take another half-inch deeper into the boys steaming hole. After a minute, Jerome hung a small weight. And again Timmy squirmed around the big arm and took a bit more. They did this three times, then Jerome said, “Boy, do those boy balls hurt?” Panting and struggling,Timmy said, “Yes sir.” Jerome grinned and started tapping on the boys nuts. Timmy whimpered and then gasped aloud as Jerome tapped a little harder. “The only way to make this stop, little beautiful cunt,” Jerome said, “Is to ask me to hurt you more.” Timmy took a minute, whimpering and shaking his head, he then squared his shoulders and took a deep breath—a mistake, really, as when he breathed out Pedro penetrated his ass more deeply. Timmy’s rectum was now stretched paper thin around Pedro’s huge forearm, just about 1/4 inch from the elbow. He groaned and cursed, momentarily unable to speak. “Say it, slave meat,” Jerome said, lightly hitting the boy’s sore balls with a paddle. Timmy sighed, and then shouted “HURT ME SIR!” Jerome hung a second big weight. As the pain traveled from his punished balls to his head, Timmy started squirming again, groaning deeply, and Pedro started sliding in. They made Timmy keep the full weights on his balsl for two minutes. Each time he struggled or wiggled his ass trying to relieve the pain, Pedro was rewarded with the feeling of a tiny bit more flaming boy pussy in his control. When the two minutes was up and the weight removed, Timmy groaned and breathed hard, suddenly only aware of how deep Pedro was inside his cut. “Oh fucuuuuck, deep fuuuck,” Timmy cried, “Need that deep fuck.” “Not yet, baby slut,” Pedro said, “We gotta wait for your hole to relax—in just a few minutes, your natural dark desires are going to start growining and your hole with loosen. Then I am going to fuck you good.” And so Pedro waited, first while Jerome detached the boy from everything holding him in place, second until the boys hole relaxed ever so slightly, and then until the second huge cocktail of drugs of the night kicked in and he could feel the boy’s desire radiate from deep in his hole. With his supernatural Bull sight he could see a huge river of dark desires release from deep within the boy. As that happened, the boy lowered his chest to the floor, his arms outstretched as if asking for offering himself for extreme violation, and Timmy said in a clear voice—far clearer than anyone as fucked up as him should have been able to master—“I am your hole, use me, use meeeeee.” Pedro worked with infinitesimal slowness, with the patience of a man who had already been alive for over a hundred years and knew he had thousands of boypussies more to destroy. By this point he had deep fisted literally thousands of men—from vaqueros strung up between posts and strung out on peyote and ancient Indian brews to European aristocrats, bound asses wide between bedposts with opium-wide holes to this new designer-drug era of wild, raging pussy hunger and a thinning veil between this world and the other side where combination of pleasure and pain, light and dark, that his clan worshipped remained. But what it was remarkable how the entire journey from getting just a finger inside a man’s hole, to being elbow or shoulder deep turning that hole into a cunt, was how every single time it happened he found it the ultimate turn on, the most pleasurable way for him to dominate another man. To see each little surrender, each step a man took into giving up his hole to Pedro for destruction, sparked pleasure in Pedro’s body, soul, and the giant, rampant, dark, Cobra of his cock. Whatever moment of lucidity Timmy experienced when he begged for Pedro to fulfill his deepest desires, was gone. All he could think about was that he needed to be fucked in a black hole of need that had replaced his hole, and that it needed to be by the thick, hard, tree trunk of Pedro’s arm. When he lowered his chest to the flour his only thoughts, on repeat were “Take my hole, fuck my hole, destroy my pussy, daddy.” This surrender to Pedro was distinct from his previous surrenders to the other three men who’d he’d encountered that weekend. Dimitri he’d given everything he possibly could, his virgin boypuss, his former life, his sero-status, his body, and his soul. Conrad—from the moment that huge, square, rock hard marble cock had pierced him deep and into the agony of endless deep enemas and cruel toy fucks—had demanded Timmy endure and revel in pain. Jerome had pushed buttons he didn’t even know he had, from the smooth way his long gorgeous black cock slid home to the depraved desires its snaky shape had dislodged as it pulsed and prodded into all the secret kinks he didn’t know he had. Pedro, though, was different. Pedro was like his spiritual companion—stubborn, hard, and determined. And Timmy had just given total elbow-deep control of his hole to the man, in the group with the widest fists and biggest bones and the most hardcore fucker and foster of all of them, all but begging for domination. But all of this was happening deep in Timmy’s subconscious understanding, for now visibly he was ruled solely by his heavily-drugged bottom-pig hidebrain. Pedro was going as slowly as possible to make the boy open up, but Timmy was eager and tried to help in his own destruction. Pedro put a giant paw on the small of his ass, and said, “Hold still, let me do it, or you will hurt yourself. As your hole opens there will come a time when you can push back. But now submit and let me take you.” And so Pedro took Timmy’s hole, his arms not going as deep as his other dark brothers, but much wider and thicker. As Timmy’s boy pussy was also find out: Pedro was truly big boned, meaning it wasn’t just muscle and sinew trying to destroy his hole, it was wide, rigid bone. Pedro steadily increased the speed and movement of his arm, loosening the hole. As soon as he got some play, he began widening, changing his arm arm and fist from straight up and starting to turn. Timmy lifted up and groaned, “Fuuuuck.” Pedro firmly pushed his head back down, “You asked to be cored out, beautiful slave meat, shut up and take it.” Pedro worked the boys hole for a couple of hours and neither he nor Timmy showed any signs of ever wanting to stop. Pedro would pound for a whole, wrist to elbow, then he switch to stretching either the boys first or second hole, making his fist bigger and bigger each time, and slowing pulling out. While it hurt, it also drove Timmmy crazy with lust, and he urged Pedro to do it harder and harder. From time to time Jerome would step in, hard punching the boy’s sloppy gash with his fists or seeing just how deep the boy would go. After several hours, Timmy’s hole was gaping open, the lips ragged, and it truly looked like a used boypussy. And only then, when the boys hole was sensitive but still begging for hard use, did Pedro fuck him.

I fuck my boy, Drew every day. His asshole is always ready for my cock and I slide easily balls-deep inside him and give him a good fucking. I always plaster his chute and leave him wet. This daily fucking keeps his hole open and ready.