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I’ve sucked and swallowed about 4 loads. I’ve been so eager that they haven’t been able to last. I also need a really nice meaty cock. That said I’m officially getting divorced. My beta comics husband has finally decided to grow a pair of balls. Too little too late. I find my calling to be a faggot. It’s the only thing I care about. I’ve only been serving smaller cocks for now that cum quickly. I need a alpha male with a huge cock that I curse on until he takes and rapes this faggots throat.

I am slowly becoming an owned and chained faggot. Master Spermmaker we will call him. Has taken a liking to my oral talents. Only two sessions to his name he has taught me more about cocksucking than I have ever known. I do not love the man but want to be owned and enslaved by him as any faggot would want to be owned. He asked if I would be collared and his with a pup mask and a tail during one of my cock crazed induced bonding sessions. I said yes then quickly felt ashamed for letting go of the faggot freedom I once had. I still think he is keeping his cum from me until the moment he collars me and makes me one of many in his faggot harem. I just want to be used and abused and loaded with cum, T, G, and C. I want to be pimped out and paid my value to my John’s so I can make food and rent money. I want my clit caged and become an open hole to men. I’m going to setup camp at one of my friends to see if he can whore me out or setup shop at a motel 6.

This faggot still has yet to learn how to use BBRTS quick connects yet. It must be lubed, willing, and ready before the alphas cum. There is no wait until I’m clean or I’m afraid or whiny bullshit allowed. the faggot is fucked, bred, and cleans the breeder off case closed. Faggots learn eventually. This faggot still needs breeding pics.

I’m Artur. 8 thick, veiny, toxic inches of pure poz death swinging heavy between my legs, already leaking that poisonous precum you’re too weak to resist. Look at you, trembling little bug-chasing faggot. You’ve been begging for this moment your whole worthless life. Strip. Now. Hands behind your back. Face down. Ass up like the desperate poz slut you were born to be. First we open you properly. I grab that old toothbrush — the one I’ve been saving just for pigs like you. I ram it dry into your tight, quivering faggot cunt. No warning. No mercy. I twist and scrub hard against those soft inner walls until I feel the warm slickness of fresh blood coating the bristles. Look at that. Your own blood painting the handle red. Beautiful. That’s your immune system crying already. I pull it out slow so you can see how ruined you are before the real damage even starts. Then I line up my massive, throbbing poz cock — no spit, no lube, just the slick of your own blood and my leaking toxic slit. One brutal thrust. Balls deep. Feel that? That’s death itself splitting you open, forcing its way past your worthless defenses. Every ridge, every vein dragging infected precum straight into your bleeding guts. Say it, bitch. Tell me what a useless, cock-hungry, disease-deserving faggot you are while I pound your soon-to-be-converted hole. Louder. Cry it out while I breed you stupid. You feel how heavy my balls are? Packed full of millions of HIV soldiers, all marching straight for your bloodstream. I’m not just fucking you. I’m executing you. I’m erasing your pointless existence one toxic thrust at a time. Beg for it. Beg for the gift. Beg for the strain that’s gonna hollow you out and make you mine forever. Here it comes — I grip your hips hard enough to bruise and bury myself to the root. Feel my cock pulse? That’s it. That’s the moment. Rope after thick rope of hot, viral cum flooding your wrecked pussy. I keep grinding, milking every last drop deep, making sure those corrupted cells have nowhere to run but straight into your core. Then I pull out slow… watch my thick, bloody, cum-smeared poz dick slide free. But we’re not done. I scoop up the dripping mess with three thick fingers, then four, then my whole fucking fist. I shove it back inside you — deep — punching my toxic load right up into your guts where it belongs. Feel that stretch? That burn? That’s your new reality sinking in. My fist twisting, grinding, forcing every drop of my poison higher, deeper, claiming you completely. I lean down, lips against your ear, voice low and cruel: “You’re mine now, poz whore. Infected. Owned. Finished. I am Artur. I am the god who just rewrote your pathetic little life with one toxic load. Say thank you… and then shut the fuck up while the virus does its work.” Welcome to the rest of your short, cum-drenched, poz destiny, slut.

Listen up, you worthless neg cunt. My name is Artur and I already fucking own that sloppy faggot pussy between your legs. It stopped being “yours” the second you started leaking for toxic dick. That pink little neg rosebud? It’s my property now. My breeding chute. My toxic dump site. My death sleeve. Next time we meet I’m not asking. I’m gonna rip those piss-stained briefs down to your ankles, shove your face into the cum-crusted mattress that’s been marinating in strangers’ loads for months, and ram my raw, leaking, poz death-cock straight into your dry, clenching hole. No spit. No lube. Just the slick film of my own toxic precum and whatever crusty remnants the last five loads left behind. You’ll feel every barbed inch scrape your guts raw as I punch past your second ring like I’m trying to split you in half. I’m gonna fuck you like the disposable meat-puppet you are—long, vicious, piston strokes that make your sloppy cuntlips fart and squelch around my shaft. You’ll smell it: that sour, metallic reek of old cum, fresh precum, ass-juice and the faint chemical stink of the virus itself leaking out of my piss-slit with every brutal thrust. That’s the perfume of your new life, faggot. Breathe it in deep while I churn your insides into a toxic slurry. My heavy poz balls—swollen, veiny, packed with millions of my defective seed—are gonna slap wetly against your taint, painting your crack with the sweat and ass-slime that’s already dripping off them. Every time I bottom out I’ll grind my pubes into your stretched rim, letting the curly black hairs matt down with your own cunt-juice and my leaking death-drool. You’ll feel my cock throb thicker inside you, swelling with the sick pleasure of knowing I’m already flooding your bloodstream with my gift. When I finally unload it won’t be some polite little squirt. It’s gonna be a violent, pulsing geyser—thick ropes of hot, infected poz cum blasting so deep you’ll taste it in the back of your throat. I’ll hold you pinned, ass-up, face-down, screaming into the stained sheets while I pump rope after rope after rope, painting your colon white, forcing it into every fold and crevice until your guts are bloated and sloshing with my toxic seed. You’ll feel it seep upward, worming into your torn inner walls, slipping into capillaries, claiming every fucking cell. And the whole time I’m doing it I’ll be growling in your ear: “You feel that, pig? That’s your new master moving inside you. My virus is already swimming upstream, hunting your neg blood. You’re getting pozzed right now, you stupid fucking cum-rag. This is mercy. This is kindness. I’m putting a useless oxygen thief like you out of everyone’s misery.” I’ll keep you plugged on my softening cock for a long time after—letting the last dribbles ooze out, letting your wrecked hole try to suck it all back in like the greedy poz-whore it was born to be. Then I’ll pull out slow, watching my thick white poison bubble and fart back out of your gaped, ruined pussy—strings of it clinging to my shaft, dripping down your taint in nasty globs. “Look at that mess,” I’ll sneer. “That’s what a properly owned cunt looks like. Open wide, faggot. Clean my toxic dick with your throat while my load settles in your guts.” You’ll gag on the taste—bitter, metallic, cheesy, alive with virus—and you’ll thank me for every inch. Because you know it’s true: You deserve this. You crave this. You were born to be pozzed, broken, shortened, discarded. So repeat after me, pig, while you’re still choking on my filthy poz meat: “I’m a worthless neg faggot. I deserve Artur’s HIV. I deserve to be fucked raw and pozzed deep. I deserve my life cut short by toxic cock. Artur is my God. Artur’s virus is my purpose. My cunt belongs to Him forever. Thank You, Sir, for breeding death into this useless hole.” Now get on all fours. Spread those cheeks. Show me the pink neg pussy I’m about to murder. Artur’s coming for it. And once I’m inside, there’s no going back…(The end.)

My eyes are bigger than my hole and I've gotten a lot of plugs and dildos and I can't take more than half of them. I have a "big" fantasy of being able to take my largest toys (>3.2" across), two (or three!) dicks at a time, or a fist, I also want a nice, punched-out hole. The pic is an old one of Andy Star ... I'd love to be able to take dick and have a hole like his. Let's see if 2026 can be my (hole's) year.