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I don't think of breeding guys asses as a "fetish" - for us, it's simply the way we have sex. Sure, when hiv came along, it was either bag it or else. But the treatments came, we took them, and kept on fucking the natural way, just as we always have.

Part 6: The night at the beat when Evan and Nick fucked me with my hole pre-loaded with poz cum was only a few days ago. I felt used, as if what I wanted wasn't important and I was just an object for other guys, especially Nick, to use as they pleased without any regard for my personal well-being. It fucking turned me on, especially being forced to let Evan and Nick fuck me after my ass was sore and I needed to stop. It made me so incredibly hard. On one hand, I didn't want Nick to find out because I was concerned that he'd up the ante and use and abuse me even more if he knew I liked it. On the other hand, my dick wanted me to confess it to Nick and beg him to do his worst. Should I listen to my head and leave things as they are or should I listen to my dick and see what Nick's capable of? I had a few days for my head and dick to argue about the situation because Nick went to visit his grandparents for a few days, leaving the morning after the session at the beat. He gave me strict instructions to continue slutting myself out, but without him there, I could do it at my own pace. At home, Chris made up for Nick's absence by taking advantage of my freeuse status, fucking me and filling me with his cum, without caring if I got off or not. It was now about 4 or 5 days after the night at the beat. I was at work and received a message from Daniel, a friend who worked in an office building not far from me, suggesting we meet for lunch. Daniel was in the same friend group as Nick, Evan, and Patrick. I met him occasionally on our lunch breaks, so it seemed like a normal request and I said yes. Over lunch, we were chatting about random stuff, and Daniel said "So, I had dinner with Patrick last night. He had some interesting gossip for me". Shit. My stomach turned. I had hoped that my secret wouldn't get out to everyone this quickly. Maybe it was something else. I know I'm a slut, but I didn't want everyone from my actual life to know how much of a slut I am. That's supposed to be just for random strangers to know. I had to ask to make sure. "Ok, I'll bite. What new info has that gossip queen decided to share now?" Patrick, "Oh, nothing much really, just that you're a bareback slut who takes any and all loads, and said that Nick and Evan took you to a beat to try to collect as many loads as possible. He also said that Evan fucked you when you were blindfolded and you didn't know it was him. And I can tell from your facial expression now that it's all true. Am I right?" There was no point in trying to deny it. After all, he could check with Evan or Nick and they'd both confirm Patrick's story. I admitted that it was true, and admitted that I wasn't allowed to refuse any guy who wanted to fuck me, as long as they never used a condom. I was so embarrassed that Daniel knew, it was a bit humiliating. My dick was hard though. My dick was very happy that Daniel knew and that he was confronting me with the knowledge. We'd both finished eating, and Daniel said we should vacate the table so others could use it. I stood up and tried to subtly rearrange my cock so that it wasn't so obvious that I was turned on. Daniel saw it of course and laughed at me. We were walking back towards our respective offices and Daniel told me to follow him, that we needed to take a detour. I followed him but when I asked why, he just said that he'd tell me soon enough. We arrived at a toilet block in a small, quiet shopping arcade. I looked at Daniel and asked what was going on. Daniel just said that he was going to fuck me, he was horny and wanted to empty his balls before he went back to the office, he said he was going to fuck me bareback and cum inside me, and because I wasn't allowed to refuse anyone, I had to do as I was told and take his load. He told me to go into the toilet first, go into the cubicle at the far end, take my trousers and underwear off, leave the door opened, and then send him a text to tell him that I was ready and he'd come in and then cum in me. I did as I was told, except that the furthest cubicle was occupied, so I took the second furthest and sent him a message. My pants were off and hanging on a hook behind the door, and the door was open. While I was waiting for Daniel to enter, I noticed that there was a glory hole between my cubicle and the one Daniel had originally told me to use, the one that was occupied by someone else. Daniel entered, walked into my cubicle, and locked the door. He released his cock from his pants, and I got to see it for the first time. Wow. Shocked was an understatement. I had known Daniel for years and never suspected that he was packing an absolute whopper of a meat stick. Even bigger, both longer and thicker, than Nick's and I thought Nick's was big. He told me to suck it to get it hard. I grabbed it with my hands and guided it to my face, but at the same time gestured with my eyes to the glory hole. I wanted to remind Daniel that the next cubicle was taken, so he should probably keep his voice down. He looked at me and gave me the thumbs up, so I thought he understood what I meant. I started sucking and licking his thick cock head, lapping up some precum as it oozed out of the slit. I was embarrassed at lunch when Daniel told me that he knew that I was a slut, but now I was beginning to think it was worth it because Daniel had the kind of cock that I needed more of. It was very big, huge, probably the biggest I'd ever seen in person, but it was also a beautiful cock, perfectly shaped and designed. Daniel said "Yeah, suck my cock, get me hard and get my cock extra wet so I can fuck you". I quickly glanced at the glory hole and saw an eye there. We were being watched, and Daniel clearly wanted this random guy to know what was happening. Before long, Daniel's cock was fully hard. I vowed in my head to get him alone in private and measure it one day, but I estimated that it was probably about 10" long. I was a bit worried that I wouldn't be able to take it. Daniel pulled me off his dick, turned me round, and with a bit of extra spit, he pushed against my rim. It hurt. I didn't think this baseball bat was going to go in at all. I told him he was too big and suggested that we postpone until we could get some lube and had more time for me to open up. Daniel said I wasn't allowed to refuse a cock, and that includes his, so I had to force myself to relax because one way or another, he's going to bury himself balls deep inside me. He reached around and started massaging my cock, rubbing my precum all over the sensitive glans. This distracted me and made me relax, and right at that moment, Daniel pushed hard and his thick head popped inside me. I yelped in pain and said it was too big and it hurt. Daniel just said he knew it would hurt and I obviously needed more practice, so he shoved even harder and went fully in. I tried to pull myself off him, but with the toilet wall in front of me, there was nowhere to go. He gripped my waist and started fucking me, long deep strokes. It hurt like hell, but it also felt fucking amazing. My ring was on fire but my prostate was loving the battering, and my dick was delighted that I was being used. Daniel said that he needed to get back to work, so he picked up the pace, thrust in deep, and painted my guts white. He kept cumming and cumming. I lost count of the number of pulses, so I'm sure I had a huge serving of his baby batter inside me. The whole time, the eye never left the glory hole. Daniel looked at it and said "Do you want to fuck him now?". A voice from the other side said that the show was hot and he was horny as hell, but his doctor had told him not to have sex for a while. Daniel asked him why, and he said that he'd tested positive for gonorrhea and wasn't allowed to fuck until the antibiotics had done their job. Daniel told him that was bullshit, and he should fuck me anyway. I guess it didn't take much convincing because the eye left the glory hole and was replaced by his cock. Daniel told me to back up onto to and let the guy give me whatever he had. I guess our show had got him close to the edge because he bred me only a few moments after his dick first entered my spermy hole. Daniel leant down and whispered a message in my ear "I have to get back to work now, but don't leave here without thanking the man next door for his cum and everything that was delivered with it", then he opened the door, and left, leaving me without any trousers on, bent over with the random diseased cock still in my ass through the glory hole, and the door wide open and not within my reach. I stood up, the cock dropped out and returned to its owner's side of the cubicle divider, and as instructed, I thanked him for his load and bonuses. I got myself dressed and went to the basins to wash my hands and try to tidy myself up a bit. I hoped I didn't look too much like I'd just been fucked when I went back to work. I left the toilet block, and the mystery gono guy hadn't opened his door, so aside from his eye and cock, I would never be able to recognize him if I saw him again. I'm sure he'd recognize me though. So, within a week, I'd taken at least 2 poz loads, and at least 1 load with another bug. I wondered what my doctor would say if he knew what I'd been up to. As far as he knew, I was still taking my prep and being careful about who I played with.

I have just received the notification that I had earned the highest rank on this site and had become Grand Master. You can think that I’m childish but I am so happy for that. It means a lot to me. When I met this site I was a in a very challenging and difficult situation. I was over a radical change of my career and in the middle of a private life crisis. My long-term relationship was close its end and this site and its community helped to get over this. But what is more important it helped and still helps to find myself, my real ego and helps to liberate myself, the real me, and enjoy what I always wanted to enjoy. I should have to say thank BZ and appreciate everything that BZ means to me. And then BZ acknowledges my activity here. So it’s a beautiful Christmas present for me.

Chapter 5 – I Can See it All Chapters 1 through 4 detail a time when I was taken, somewhat unwillingly, to an unknown location. I was blindfolded and put in a sling, where a few guys have played in my ass. I just took a huge fist from a hairy guy, and he finished me off by putting a butt plug in my ass. “OK, we’re gonna take the blindfold off.” The blindfold was removed. It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust, but I saw five guys there, all naked or nearly so. Zak was there, grinning at me. There was a guy I’d put in his 30s, mostly smooth, with a nice, long, uncut cock. Another guy was probably in his 50s with a hairy chest and ass. His cock was shorter and thick. He might have been the one who fed me his load on the way here. Another guy was probably in his 50s too, with a nice, shaved body and cock. The last guy must have been the one who fisted me most recently. He was in his 40s, tall and covered in a pelt of fur. He had a thick beard and was in great shape. His arm hair was all matted down, and it glistened in the low light. We were in a warehouse-type building. Zak said that one of the guys owned a company that packaged organic herbs and spices, and this was his place. The sling was on a large mat, there was a sofa and some chairs scattered around, and a few other things, including a rim chair. They helped me out of the sling, and we walked over to the sofa. The younger guy picked up the bubbler and melted some T. He took a hit, then handed me the pipe and torch. I worked up a big cloud and sucked it down, then passed it on to another guy. We went around like this for a while, getting higher and higher as we did. The plug was still in my ass and, since I was slouching on the sofa, they could all see it embedded in my hole. “Get your ass in that rim chair.” I walked over to the rim seat and sat down. This was made with elastic straps instead of a toilet seat, so it helped to spread open my gaping hole. The shaved guy stepped behind me, pulled out the plug, and rubbed some more Slam Dunk up my ass. I heard him lubing up a toy too, which he placed on the floor under my ass. The head went into my ass just a bit, but I figured they’d want to see me take more of it. “Sit your ass down on this.” Bracing myself on the base of the chair, I pushed down on the straps to let more of my ass swallow the toy. At the same time, the guy was pushing it up into my ass. It started out at a normal thickness but progressed up from there. Then, I encountered the knot. “Get that knot in your ass.” I pushed out and down at the same time, feeling the knot expand my hole. When it popped in, more of the dildo followed, giving me another few inches deep in my guts. The feeling was awesome and only made better when the guy who put the dildo down for me reached up and started twisting and pulling it. Feeling the knot roll around in my ass was astounding. It was hitting all sorts of nerve endings, sending shivers up my spine. He would also pull it back so it almost came out before shoving it in again. With each new thrust, the toy went deeper and deeper into my ass. “Fuck, he has it in all the way to the base!” I felt proud that I could take the toy that deep. With all the drugs running through my body, my ass was relaxed and receptive to whatever they wanted to do with it. This guy worked the toy in my ass for a while, then Zak said that he had an idea. “I want you to ride my arm.” I watched as Zak lubed up his hand and arm. He slicked it up all the way to the elbow. I didn’t know if I could take all that, but we were about to find out. Once he was ready, the shaved guy pulled the dildo out of my ass. Feeling the knot pass through my hole got me more excited about riding Zak’s hand and arm. Zak rested his elbow under the rim chair, holding his hand straight up in the air for me. His hand was in a fist, so the initial penetration would be intense. I looked down into his eyes as I started to lower my ass onto his hand. First, I rubbed my hole all over his fist. This helped distribute the lube and also served as a good tease for both of us. When I was ready, I lowered my ass onto his waiting fist. Gravity was my friend and, with some minor adjustments to my position, I felt his fist begin to penetrate my ass. Right then, the shaved guy shoved the poppers under my nose. I paused on my descent to inhale the fumes, knowing that this would make the ride way more fun. Once they hit, I started sliding back down on Zak’s paw. He has fairly large hands, so the feelings were pretty intense. As my brain was spiraling, I kept moving my ass down onto Zak’s arm. He held it still, letting me control the speed and depth of the penetration. I sank as far down on Zak’s arm as I could. With his hand in a fist, he was unlikely to be able to navigate through the bend, but he made it feel amazing for me. As I bounced up and down, he was twisting and flexing his hand inside me. My strokes became larger until I was pulling up until his fist was almost all the way out of my ass before sliding as far down as possible. Again, the poppers were placed under my nose, and I took a deep inhale, ready to ride Zak’s arm for all it was worth. Fuck me, with the T, the poppers, the hot guys watching, and my sexy buddy Zak feeding me his fist, I was in heaven. First, I worked his fist deep, then twisted and maneuvered my body around. I was Zak’s hand puppet. The poppers made me focus all my attention on my ass and, on one of the downward strokes, I had a massive assgasm. The intensity of it made me stop moving with Zak’s fist embedded in my ass. He let me ride out the waves of pleasure and then started his own activities. Zak slid his hand back a bit and extended his fingers in front of his hand. In this position, he could go really deep. I sat on the rim seat with my ass wide open for his work and let him do his thing. He crawled through the curve in my ass, and I could see his fingers groping around through the hair on my belly. This was an amazing sensation and sight to see too. Zak worked me over, and I let him have his way with me. After a while, he decided that he wanted me back in the sling, so I rose up off his hand and walked over to the sling. Lube and ass juices were flowing down my legs since my hole was so open. I sat back in the sling, got my legs settled in the stirrups, and looked at Zak as he was lubing up his arms. “Someone should fist me while I’m fisting this pig,” Zak growled. The hairy-chested guy rose from where he was sitting and said, “I’ll take that on.”

He is indeed one of the best and most prolific writers on the site. I wish I had half his talent.

Well said. Nothing difficult to understand. For Tops, sharing our dna with other guys is totally natural, emotionally healthy, and sexually thrilling. Even better, the more we do it the more we need to do it. If anything about raw fucking is addictive, it's because there's no better way to connect with our brothers than to fuck/get fucked - particularly in a group setting. One to one is great, but a crowd of men breeding each other is fan-fukkin-tastic.

LOL ..... I reckon I wouldn't either !!!!! But then, for me, there's a bit of a difference between flossing and eating out a hot, hungry, well-seeded hole.

It is very simply that. I lost my virginity bareback to a couple (lol I was destined to be a whore) but it just felt right and the incredible feeling of skin on skin and the cum inside me. Sometimes I feel a condom on a dick fucking me and it feels bad, rough, and disconnected. Bareback fucking and breeding to me is not a fetish it’s just how we are wired to fuck and share DNA and connection.

Thank you for all the responses and feedback. here is the next part of the story. Let me know what you think and post what you think happens next. For the next couple of weeks. I tried to hook up with women. I would pick up chicks at bars, bring them home, and try to fuck them. I found that I wasn't getting hard enough, and the feeling wasn’t the same. I even booked an escort, and the same thing happened. I thought it was because I needed to fuck a sloppy, used hole. So, I organised my mate from the other night to come over and bang a bird with me. He was hesitant. He was married with kids, but we both knew he fucked behind her back. I fucked the bird after he had blown in her dozens of times, but my mind went to that boy’s beautiful, smooth body, perky white arse being fucked by a stranger… An older man. I went to my dealer. I needed what I had that night, which I learnt was meth. I asked him about poppers, and he, of course, knew what they were and had supplies. ‘Poppers.’ He said. ‘Yeah. I think that’s what it was called.’ My dealer just rolled his eyes. ‘How strong?’ ‘You sell it?’ ‘Yeah. I do. How strong?’ ‘Strongest you got.’ At first, it was casual. A smoke here, a smoke there. Weekend business. I’d still try to fuck girls, still go through the motions, still pretend my body was listening to the script I’d been handed. It never hit right. The release was there, but the spark? Dead on arrival. Then one night, I wandered back to that back room. Same door. Same low light. Same sense of stepping sideways out of the world. Inside, it was wall-to-wall blokes—old, young, built, broken, confident, desperate. Sweat, smoke, sex hanging in the air like a storm about to crack. I was raging hard, off my face, heart thumping like it wanted out of my chest. Whether I’d timed it perfectly or whether it was always like this didn’t matter—there was fucking everywhere. Bodies pressed, hands roaming, breathy sounds swallowed by the dark. Part of me still flinched at the idea of men on men. Old wiring dying slow. But I’d heard about glory holes. Urban myth made flesh. I shut myself into one of the booths. Tiny. Private. Loud in my head. I sat there for a moment, brain floating somewhere above the ceiling, cock heavy in my hand, answering a call I’d been dodging for years. Then— “Hey… can I suck it?” A whisper. Low. Close. Not from behind me. From the hole in the wall. I ignored it at first. Let the moment hang. Let the pulse build. Then something inside me finally unclenched. A quiet voice saying, stop fighting it. I never saw who it was. That was the point. Just a wall between us, solid and anonymous. I stood, guided myself forward, and pushed through the opening. The response was instant. Warm. Wet. A mouth closing around my cock with intention, not hesitation. Fuck. Whoever was on the other side knew exactly what they were doing. Took my cock deep, no theatrics, no mercy. No woman had ever handled me like that—so sure, so unafraid. My body answered before my head could catch up. I started moving. Slow at first. Then harder. The wall thudded as I lost rhythm, lost restraint, hips snapping forward like I was trying to disappear into it. The mouth didn’t retreat. If anything, it met me, took everything I gave. A hitch of breath. A gagged sound. Slicker now. Messier. Still there. I dragged the poppers under my nose, long and greedy, the room dissolving as I floated higher and higher. Everything narrowed to sensation. Heat, pressure, surrender. I didn’t last. Couldn’t. When it hit, it was violent and unstoppable, my cum spilling into the dark, erupting into a stranger who accepted it without a sound. No faces. No names. Just release. My worries about playing with men didn’t vanish overnight, but they thinned out, lost their grip. Curiosity outpaced fear. Before I knew it, that back room had me clocked as a regular. Familiar nods. Familiar heat. I started branching out—other cruise clubs, other shadows—and that’s where I learned about beats. Different geography, same hunger. I let blokes suck my cock without overthinking it. Watched men get fucked like it was live theatre, raw and unfiltered. No shame, no curtains. Just bodies doing what they wanted. My first time at a sauna was strange in how normal it felt. Like a football change room after training—same steam, same casual nudity, same sideways glances—except this time there was fucking and full-blown gay debauchery unfolding in every direction. And honestly? I didn’t hate it. I found myself studying physiques, appreciating strength, shape, presence. It felt honest. Unpretentious. Eventually, I wasn’t leaving the house for much else. Football coaching or cruising—that was the whole operating model. Everything else felt like admin. Busywork. Noise. My place was littered with paraphernalia. Pipes, baggies, the quiet evidence of a life slipping its leash. Control wasn’t gone yet, but it was wobbling. There were nights I turned up to football training high on meth—eyes sharp, patience thin, confidence blown out to dangerous proportions. I knew I was fraying. I just didn’t give a fuck. Finals were looming, and the team was humming. We were genuine contenders to take the season. On paper, everything looked solid. In reality, cracks were everywhere—especially with Scout. He wasn’t himself. Or maybe I was seeing him too clearly. I pulled the green light on him. Went hard. Harder than necessary. The team started whispering that I was favouring him, so I overcorrected—stares that lingered too long, pressure dialled up every chance I got. Punishment disguised as discipline. A few weeks out from the grand final, another training night rolled around. It was pissing down rain, cold and relentless. I didn’t soften it. Didn’t adjust the plan. I ran them into the ground anyway. By the end, they were wrecked—soaked, filthy, mud ground into skin and jerseys. Scout mouthed off. Pushed back. A fucking prick about it. I sent the rest of the team to the lockers, told them to clean up. Then I made Scout wait. Alone. Standing there in the rain and mud, while I let the silence do the work. “What the fuck’s going on, Scout?” I barked. “Finals are breathing down our necks and you’re acting like a complete wanker.” He just stood there in the rain, head bowed, water streaming through those sandy-blond curls. I clocked it. Hated that I clocked it. The night was doing strange things to my focus. “Scout.” “Mum’s pregnant.” That wasn’t on the training plan. “Oh.” I recalibrated. Corporate pivot. “That’s… that’s not a bad thing, mate. Why’s it got you this rattled?” I stepped closer, close enough to feel his heat through the cold. Grabbed his upper arms, gave him a small shake—half frustration, half something I didn’t have a label for yet. “Look at me.” He lifted his head. His eyes were wrecked—crystal blue, wet, lost. Not weakness. Confusion. The kind that pulls you under if you stare too long. “It’s yours.” “What?” “I saw that night. You were there.” My stomach dropped. Freefall. “Scout,” I said carefully, voice low now. “You’re jumping to conclusions. Adults fuck. It doesn’t mean—” “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Dad can’t have kids.” Silence punched in between us. Rain filled the gap. “Oh. Shit.” Before I could regain control—before I could coach my way out of it—he leaned in and kissed me. Soft. Brief. Electric. I froze. Thirty-plus years of rules, titles, and self-control screaming at once. Coach. Authority. Fucking adult. My body, however, missed the memo. He was 18. Yes. Legal age. But something felt wrong about it. Yet so right. Time slipped. Then snapped back. He pulled away first, eyes wide, already panicking. I was still standing there, rain dripping off my chin, pulse hammering in places it shouldn’t. “I—” he started. I should’ve stepped back. Should’ve shut it down. Instead, I bent forward and kissed him back; slower this time, deliberate, just long enough to admit the truth neither of us was saying out loud. The rain kept falling. And nothing was simple anymore. I poured a double rum over ice and necked it like it owed me money. Rolled a fifty, and laid out two lines on the marble bench. Snorted them without ceremony. The music was up, heavy metal, all distortion and threat, when the knock came. “Fuck. Not now,” I muttered. “Neighbours can fuck right off.” Another knock. Louder. My brain did the math at speed and came up with one answer I didn’t want. Scout’s dad. Holy shit. Either he was here to tell me I’d knocked up his wife… or to rearrange my face over what happened in the rain with his son. I poured another rum, swung it back, felt it burn all the way down. Liquid courage. Corporate risk management. I walked to the door, heart kicking, and pulled it open to whatever was coming. It wasn’t his dad. It was Scout. Soaked through. Hair plastered to his head. Rain dripping off his nose, his jacket, pooling at his feet like he’d been standing there longer than he should’ve. “Ah—Scout,” I said, buying time. “What are you doing here?” He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Words clearly stuck somewhere between his chest and his throat. “Come in.” I didn’t wait for permission. Threw an arm around his shoulders and guided him inside, quick glance over my shoulder to make sure no one was watching. Door shut. The lock clicked. The coke chose that moment to fully light me up. “Mate, you shouldn’t be here,” I said, too fast. “Fuck—you must be freezing.” I grabbed the throw rug off the big leather couch and tossed it at him. He caught it awkwardly, still half somewhere else, eyes darting around my place like he was already cataloguing the mess of it. Music thumping. Drugs humming. Rain left outside—but not really. The night had just escalated without a meeting invite. “I needed to see you.” “Shit… um. Now really isn’t a great time.” I glanced around the living area—drugs out, empty bottles everywhere, the place telling on me before I could. Scout drifted to the floor-to-ceiling windows, rain-streaked glass framing the Melbourne skyline like a postcard I didn’t deserve. “I knew you had a nice place,” he said, almost smiling. “Didn’t realise the view was this good.” “Yeah. Sorry.” I busied myself, scooping up empties, sliding a glass pipe off the coffee table like it hadn’t been there all along. “I wasn’t expecting anyone. What… what are you doing here?” He stepped in and tried to kiss me. I pulled away, heart punching, and retreated down the hall toward the kitchen. He followed. I dropped the bottles on the marble bench a little too hard. The coke was buzzing now, skin humming, thoughts outpacing judgment. He came up behind me. Close. Too close. His arms circled my waist; his hands slipped into my shorts. I wasn’t wearing jocks. He grabbed a hold of my shaft. I moaned at his touch. He squeezed slightly. My cock stiffened slightly. Intense, grounding and dangerous all at once. I sucked in a breath despite myself, my body reacting before my head could throw a flag. A low sound escaped me—half protest, half surrender. That was enough to snap me back. I caught his hands, untangled myself, and turned to face him. Put space between us. Not much, but deliberate. “Stop,” I said, quieter now. “We can’t just… do this.” The room felt smaller. Louder. Charged with everything we weren’t saying. “Yes,” he said, breath unsteady. “I want you. I always have.” He swallowed. “I’m in love with you, Coach.” “Scout… I’m not—” The words stalled. Weak. Unconvincing. “I’ve seen the way you look at me,” he pressed on. “After training. In the showers.” Not accusing. Certain. “Fuck.” My jaw tightened. “Scout, has anyone else seen you?” “No.” A pause. Then, softer—deadlier. “It’s our little secret. You… you open my eyes, Coach.” I turned away and headed back toward the living area, needing space, needing air. “You’re young,” I said, reaching for a reason like it might save us both. “You’re figuring yourself out.” He followed me. “I’ve done things,” he said behind me. “You know. I’ve… experimented.” I stopped. Looked back at him. “Done what?” He hesitated, then lifted his chin, defiant now. “I’ve sucked guys off before.” The admission hung there, quiet, deliberate, irreversible. The room felt tighter. Like a door closing somewhere I couldn’t see. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Scout started to tell me how he started fooling around with boys his age. But then his stories grew a little darker. He told me he has been going to beats and cruise clubs, and while he has not done a lot, he has sucked a lot of guys off. I was concerned for him. And I was. At first. But as he spoke, my body betrayed me. My cock was pushing through my shorts. Scout noticed. He told me how he met a guy close to my age; they didn't chat much. The guy gave him a smoke from a glass pipe, similar to what I had tried to hide. One thing led to another, and the guy took Scout to a private room, pulled his shorts down and ate out his arse. That surge of horniness rushed through him. In that moment, he wanted more. He hoped the guy would fuck him. The guy moved to Scout’s cock and blew him. Deep long strokes with his old man mouth. Scout felt his orgasm simmer, but he didn’t want to cum, so he pushed the old man off his cock. The man misread the moment. Or maybe read it exactly how he wanted. Scout described it like he was narrating a film he’d watched too many times, detached, oddly proud. Scout grabbed a hold of the old man’s boner sticking out from his aged body. Looked past the hairy belly and chest, and up into his drug-peaked eyes, then drove his dick balls deep down his throat. He reckons it was what he smoked that allowed him to go so deep. He had never done that before. The old man took it as a sign. Grabbed Scout by the back of his head and throat fucked him. There was a moment, he said, when he thought he might pass out. He remembered being so high that he didn’t care how the man was treating him. The man just fucked his throat, occasionally pulling all the way, then slamming it back in. Mucus puked everywhere, and Scout used all his willpower to push through and let the man fuck. The old man kept driving it deep. Scout felt his throat stretch open at every thrust. The old man moaned and announced he was going to blow. Scout thought he was going to shoot down his throat. Scout was prepared to get a good flood of this man’s cum, but he pulled out instead and unloaded over Scout’s face. My cock twitched at the thought of cum splattering over his beautiful young face. The story got me fucking horny, and the cocaine intensified it. I was sweating. I adjusted my cock. I noticed Scout. “Holy shit, Scout,” I said quietly. “Do your parents know you’re… gay?” “No. At least—I don’t think so.” He hesitated. “Dad wouldn’t take it well. He’s always going on about how dangerous gay men are. Says they don’t care who they hurt, who they infect. Talks about the seedy side of it like it’s all rot and disease.” “Because he works for the AFP,” I said. “Pretty much.” That did it. The buzz faltered, just enough for reality to punch through. I hadn’t thought about it before. Not properly. The risks. Infections. Consequences that don’t show up immediately but linger, waiting. I’d spent years convincing myself danger belonged to other people—reckless people. I stared at nothing for a moment, mind spiralling, and wondered, too late, too honestly, what you could catch just from letting someone get that close. Scout was shaking a little. Still wet. “Hold on, I’ll grab a proper towel.” I went to the bathroom and checked myself in the mirror. Fuck, I looked like shit, stubble beard, bloodshot eyes, sweating, dripping down my shirtless body. My cock. Raging hard. I knew I shouldn’t feel this way about him. Scout was only 18. But he was such a beautiful boy, I couldn’t control it. I walked back in with a towel and found Scout naked, sitting on the couch, with a glass pipe in his mouth, heating the bulb and sucking in deep. “Fuck! Scout. What are you doing?” “Relax. Coach. Join me. I know you want to.” He stood up I admired his beautiful, young, masculine, smooth body. His six-pack framed by his V-cut, pointing down to his perfect, uncut, semi-hard cock and low-hanging balls. I must have been daydreaming. “Coach.” He handed me the pipe and lighter. I grabbed the pipe, holding it steady as I locked eyes with him. His pupils were blown wide now; the drug was catching up, sinking its hooks in. I lit it and drew slow, deliberate, smoke curling between us. Scout dropped to his knees. The movement alone sent a jolt through me. I pushed my shorts down just enough to feel the air shift. My cock flung up. Raging. My knob pulsed. My body answered before my head could intervene. Everything in me was awake, pulsing, unapologetic. I took another drag and looked down. My cock was hovering just above his head. Just below his blue eyes and slightly floating above his perky lips. Blue eyes, glassy, fixed on mine. Breath shallow, like he was waiting for permission that neither of us was brave enough to name. Time slowed. Smoke hung. The room held its breath. Nothing touched yet, and somehow that made it worse. He opened his mouth and pushed it over my cock. Soft lips, moist mouth massaged as he went deep. My mind was in all sorts. Between a daydream and reality. It was hard to tell. Guys have sucked my cock. But that was through glory holes. I’ve never watched a guy actually suck my cock. And Scout. He wasn’t a guy. He was a young lad, 18. Devouring my cock like a starved animal. Blue eyes locked on me. Spelling the words with his dilated pupils, I belong to you. Long, deep strokes. He kept his pace. He didn’t slow down. Kept pumping my cock deep down his throat. The drugs were peaking through my system, and I wanted more. I grabbed the brown bottle from the coffee table. Undid the lid. Instantly, the aroma aroused my senses. I noticed Scout's eyes shift for the first time. Still deep throating my cock, making it slick with his saliva and mucus, he took an interest in what I had in my hand. His eyes followed as I moved the bottle to each nostril and took in two long, drawn-out sniffs in each. The instant rush hit me. Scout didn’t have to say a word for me to know that he wanted what I was having. I lowered it to his nostrils. He repeated what I did without removing my cock from his mouth. I was in a rush. Scout’s eyes burned through phases. First that pearl halo, until the whites went raw and veined, like the drug was repainting him from the inside out. Awake. Gone. Claimed by poppers. I needed more, so I had another sniff in each nostril. I was peaking off my face. In a haze, and I knew Scout was at that same level. My concerns about being sucked off by a man evaporated. I was hungry. Aggressive. I just wanted to fuck. I grabbed Scout by the back of his head and pushed my cock down his throat, feeling it break past his tonsils and down his throat pipe. I was too far gone to be concerned with his comfort and fucked. Hard. I pumped, driving it deep with every thrust. Planting Scout’s face into my pub, crushing his nose into my musky sweat odour, ensuring he could not get away from the potent aroma. He didn’t pull away. He loved it. Bathed in it. He gagged. I watched his body reflex as he held back a spew. I kept going. It turned me on. I wanted it. I wanted him to puke as I skull fucked him. I took it up a level. It hit the mark. Scout puked as I face fucked him. Stomach fluid expelled out from around his lips past my thrusting shaft, exploding over his beautiful young face, slashing up my torso. There was an obscene amount, and it flowed. Scout never closed his eyes. His face was covered in his own fluids. It was getting too much for me. I felt my balls tighten. I wanted to keep going, but I didn’t want it to end. I used all my willpower to stop and pull out of his mouth. Scout coughed instantly. He was air-deprived that whole time. “Are you okay, Scout?” He kept coughing for a moment, body shuddering, breath uneven. Then it passed. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes still glassy. “No.” I paused. “No?” “I loved it.” “I like feeling dirty.” I grabbed a hold of my slick cock and jerked at the thought of Scout being a dirty boy. I was about to push my cock back into his mouth when he stood up and bent over the couch. He pointed his perfect pale peach of an arse at me. Legs spread, back arched enough that his cheeks spread open, revealing his tiny pink hole. Untouched. Young. Virgin. I had that moment of wonder. Am I dreaming? I never thought of myself as gay. I fucked women. So why am I so turned on by this young lad's arse? I had never felt such an intense drive build up from deep inside me like I did at that moment. Scout turned his head. Face coated in his own mucus and stomach fluids. Even in his messy, dirty state, he was perfect, sexy, handsome and fucking beautiful. He didn’t have to say it. I knew it. I knew what he wanted. Needed. “Are you sure?” His glassy blue eyes twinkled. “You have never been fucked. I am in my fifties. I am older than your dad.” He didn’t take his glassy blue eyes off me. I moved in close. My slick cock is only millimetres away from his pink bit. “You are about to lose your virginity to an old man. Is this what you want? How do you want to remember your first time?” I placed my knob at the entrance of his virgin hole. Spit moistened his entrance. I tossed him the brown bottle. I didn’t have to tell him what to do. He went to it like clockwork, taking two long whiffs in each nostril. As he held his breath, letting the poppers rush through his body. I pushed my knob against his tiny pink hole. The mucus from Scout’s throat allowed for perfect lubrication as I felt his pink break and expand over my knob. “Argh!” Scout moaned loudly. Letting go of the poppers in his system. I was raging. Wild like a wolf, desperate for a feed. I needed to be inside him. I didn’t stop. I kept pushing. Knob was well past his opening, and my shaft was driving deep. His tight pink hole was trying with all its might to grip on and stop me, but my strength overpowered it, and it gave way. I wasn’t going to stop. I was balls deep; Scout was moaning a mixture of pain and pleasure. I didn’t care that he was a virgin. When I fuck, I hammer, and that was what I intended to do. I power fucked from the get-go. Driving deep and pulling all the way out, watching his tight grip on my cock pull every time. He had no power over me, and I fucked. Scout moaned louder. He placed his hand against my thigh to try to get me to slow down. Maybe stop me. But I swatted it away and drove deeper. Harder. I grabbed the back of Scout’s neck and pushed his face into the leather couch. His eyes were crushed shut. Moaning in pain… Not Pleasure. Mucus spitting and splattering every time from each of his cries and pleas. I wasn’t going to stop. I needed to fuck. I needed to break the young lad in. “Mm, yeah… Take your coach’s cock. Feel it break you open. Ahh… No condom, boy. I’m inside you raw.” I was power fucking him. His moaning shifted to a scream of pain. His tone was a language of his feelings. Feelings of a moment, wanting to lose his virginity to his coach, to wondering if this was the right thing to do. The pain must have been overwhelming. The lad’s pink virgin hole went from a tiny button to an instant stretched out tunnel being pulverised. “Ugh. Fuck-” He moaned in pain, “Stop. It’s hurting.” I had no doubt the neighbours could hear. I didn’t give the young boy time to adjust. I was a starving animal finally devouring my kill. I had fucked a lot of pussy. But it had never felt the way his boy hole felt. My concerns about my feelings for the lad were gone. I was lost in a new sensation, and I wasn’t giving it up. I was deaf to Scout’s moans. The boy’s pink buttonhole was mine. I owned it. I had no idea how much time had passed. I was completely fixated on fucking. The sensation was building up in my balls. My cock was beginning to feel an impulsive eruption. Scout went silent. He surrendered to the invasion. He gave in to my power over him. No. I looked a little closer. He was weeping. I knew I was meant to feel sorrow, but instead it tipped me over the edge. I took him. I took his virginity. I broke the lad physically and mentally. The fear in his tears confirmed it. I lost control. “Ahh… I’m cumming, boy!!” I shouted from the rooftop. My balls tightened, and my cock erupted. I moaned. I jammed my cock inside the lad with every shot of my load, injecting inside him. I grip around his neck, tighten. The lad was limp. Turned into nothing but a hole for my use. It had been a long time since I unloaded the amount I knew I was injecting inside me. Women weren’t doing it for me, and I never got the power orgasm I was having in that moment. It was new, it was a sensation, it was like his hole was a vortex drawing my energy from my body through my cock and into it. I thought I owned it. But it owned me. It took me. I was the fly. It was the Venus Flytrap now sucking my life force through every ejaculation. I didn’t think it was going to end. The sensation was too overwhelming, and I was shaking, pushing on the edge of hurting. Eventually, it did. The vortex let go, and I was released. I slumped on top of the lad like a dead weight. Huffing and puffing like I just ran a marathon. Scout, he just lay there, weeping and with a look that clearly said. What did I do? I was sweating profusely. Drenched in my own moisture, dripping all over the boy. I slowly felt my breathing dialled down. As it did, my primal mind set reverted back to its normal state. It was here that I had my first concerning thought about Scout. Fuck. Scout. My cock is still solid and inside him. I lifted my weight off him. Pulled my cock back. Scout’s hole gripped tight. “Ah-!” Scout yelped. He was still so tight. My cock was wedged deep inside it. Scout cried. “Argh! It hurts.” I tried to pull back again, but his hold gripped tighter. Scout cried in pain again. “Scout. I need to pull out. Just push through the pain.” I moved slightly, and he cried in pain. I had no choice but to just pull back. Force Scout to just accept it. I pulled back. His hole gripped on. I watched my cock pull out with Scout’s tender red hole, dragging out with it until only my large knob was left inside. “Oh God. Please stop!” Scout yelped in a hyperventilating state. “Scout. My knob is still inside you. Your hole is gripped around it. The only way is for me to pull out and you release me. Just accept it. It will be over soon. Just-Just-” I didn’t give him a chance to answer, and I pulled out. His hole was forced to release my knob. Scout screamed. I watched his hole, and for a moment it remained wide open, unsure what to do with itself. Its lips were red, raw, puffy. My load had no barrier in that slight moment; it poured out like a river of white running down the back of the young lad’s smooth balls. Then it retracted. Scout’s hole closed in, leaving a tight, tiny, red, puffy hole. Broken in. No longer virgin. The sight of my cum layered over Scout’s balls was too much. That deep inner urge to eat pearly whites boiled over the edge. I knelt down and cupped them in my mouth like a suction cup and sucked them clean. Scout seemed to relax. His hyperventilation slowed down. After I cleaned every drop of my seed off his youthful ball sack, I planted myself on the couch close to Scout’s head, heaving a breath like I just ran a marathon. My cock was slick with Scout’s arse juices and my cum. Tiny streaks of red down the shaft. I did some damage to him. Guilty struck me. Fuck. Scout said no. He begged me to stop. I didn’t. Fuck. I’m an animal. Did I just do what I think I just did? Scout had not moved. His face was still planted on the leather couch, mucus-covered, with weeping eyes. His perfect pale peach arse was still sticking in the air. ‘Scout?’ Strings of mucus streaking over his lips flapped through each of his breaths as his adrenaline subsided. He mumbled from behind the spit, ‘Coach.’ ‘Scout. Are you ok?’ He didn’t answer. My guilt turned to worry. I think I did do what I think I did. There was a knock on the door. Fuck! The neighbours heard. I grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it around my waist, hands shaking as I hauled the front door open. Old man Larry stood there, his wife tucked under his arm, both of them wearing that tight, polite concern people reserve for situations they don’t want details about. “Hi. Yes. Um… can I help you?” The words tripped over themselves. The towel barely stayed put. My hair was slicked to my forehead with sweat and product, skin flushed, pupils blown wide. I must’ve looked cooked. The air around me was heavy; The scent of sex wafted off me, which must have been overbearing for them. “Sorry, mate,” Larry said, clearing his throat. “We just… heard a lot of noise.” “We thought someone might be hurt,” his wife added gently. I froze. Full system shutdown. The silence stretched, thick and unforgiving. Then I felt a hand settle on my shoulder. Warm. Familiar. Scout stepped into view beside me, calm as anything. Naked. Unbothered. Like this was just another Tuesday night. “Everything okay here?” he said evenly. Larry blinked. His wife’s grip tightened on his arm. “Oh. Right. We—ah—sorry,” Larry muttered. “Didn’t mean to intrude.” “We should go,” his wife said quickly, steering him away. She glanced back once, twice, eyes flicking between us as they disappeared down the hall. The door clicked shut. Scout wandered back to the leather couch and dropped into it like he owned the place. Like nothing had just detonated. I stood there for a moment, breathing hard, adrenaline still fizzing through me. The room felt altered; charged, wrong, irreversible. I paced once. Twice. Then sat on the edge of the coffee table, close enough to feel his presence, far enough to pretend I was still in control. Neither of us spoke. The silence said enough.

Got my last load this afternoon at Basement Studios - on day pass- Gran Canaria

me2. however knowing the guys/scene near me i'm confident the number is zero 😜 but i also have the good/bad (subjective) habit of not looking into my hook up's faces so especially since i frequent cruising areas, backrooms, parties etc, im often mid-act before i realized ive hooked up w this guy before. 😜 recently someone DMed me saying he was sad not to make a party but hoped to see me at futures ones, then added how much he liked the way i looked up when sucking him off and i swear i have no clue who this guy is 🤣 so not hooking up w people i know, but also don't even need a blindfold to serve guys i've no idea who that was. 😜

Love making out with a freshly fucked hole oozing juices! A friendly cumdump I've hung out with a few times would ask me over, get popperd up and let me eat him out between men showing up to fuck him. I'd step aside when a dude came over, then resume eating him out after. The smells, the taste, his quivers!! I'd slowly edge then often bust all over his face.

Please be gentle - I am not a native English-speaker. This is my first time posting a story. It is fiction, but very close to what I experienced myself today.... The morning meeting had been a drag, a blur of spreadsheets and forced smiles in a sterile conference room an hour from home. You were driving back, the highway a monotonous ribbon of gray, your mind already on the afternoon you'd have to spend catching up on work. Then you saw it. The green sign for the rest area. A place you knew from online forums, a spot whispered about in certain circles. The thought was a spark in the dry tinder of your boredom. It was just after noon. Guys on their lunch breaks. The chance was too good to pass up. You signaled, pulling off the highway and onto the cracked asphalt of the parking lot. You sat in your car for a moment, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. You needed courage. You pulled the small brown bottle from your pocket, unscrewed the cap, and brought it to your nostril. One deep, long hit. The chemical rush flooded your head, a warm wave washing away your anxiety and replacing it with a gnawing, confident lust. Now you were ready. You left your car and walked into the trees, your boots sinking softly into the damp ground. In a small clearing, four guys were standing around, a silent, tense circle of unspoken need. Nobody was touching, nobody was talking. It was a standoff. And then you saw him. He looked like an apprentice, maybe in a trade, with the confident, slightly bored swagger of a young man who knows he's good-looking. He had Mediterranean features—dark, slicked-back hair, deep brown eyes, and an undeniable bulge straining against his work jeans. He was the focal point, the reason for the gathering tension. You walked past them, your path bringing you within arm's reach of him. As you passed, you reached out, your hand confidently cupping his balls through his jeans, giving them a firm, knowing squeeze. He didn't flinch. He just turned his head, and your eyes met. A slow, dangerous smile spread across his lips. The invitation was accepted. Just then, an older, paunchy man, the kind who spent his lunches chasing a fantasy he could no longer catch, broke the stalemate. He gave a pleading look to the group and then scurried into a smaller, adjacent clearing. The apprentice followed him, his walk a confident stalk. The older guy didn't waste a second. He dropped his pants, exposing his pale, flaccid ass, and bent over, bracing himself against a tree. "Fuck me," he whimpered. "Please." The apprentice unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock. It was exactly as you'd imagined: thick, hard, and cut, the head a perfect, angry-looking dome, framed by a thick, neatly trimmed patch of dark pubic hair. There was no condom in sight, no mention of one. I would have offered one, but I was not planning for a lunch fuck and did not even bring one. He spat on his hand, lubed himself, and pressed it against the man's hole. He pushed, but the older guy cried out, his body tensing up. "It's too big! You're too big!" he whined. The apprentice grunted in frustration, shoving him aside. "Useless," he muttered, his cock still jutting out, hard and unsatisfied. You saw your chance. While he was dealing with the failed bottom, you stepped up to the older man, who was now looking lost and rejected. You knelt down and took his limp cock in your mouth, trying to coax some life into it. It was a distraction, a means to an end. The apprentice watched you for a moment, a smirk playing on his lips. He saw the older man's failure, and he saw your willingness. You were usually a bottom, but the energy in the air, the raw, primal need, made you feel bold. You stood up, your own cock now hard and demanding. "Let me try," you said, nodding towards the older man's ass. He shrugged, a gesture of permission. You stepped behind the older guy. Your cock was different. It was pierced with a heavy, 10mm tribal dream ring, a piece of metal that always got a reaction. You pressed the cool metal of your PA against his hole. It slipped in easily, a smooth, foreign object. But the moment the ring was inside, the older guy's ass clamped down like a vise. You couldn't get your swollen cock head in to follow. He was too tight, too panicked by the unfamiliar sensation. Frustrated, you pulled back. You looked at the apprentice, his magnificent cock still hard and glistening. "Want to fuck me instead?" you asked, your voice low and direct. His smile returned, wider this time. "Yeah," he said, his voice a low growl. You didn't need to be told twice. You turned around right there in the open space, not bothering with a tree for support. You let your pants fall to your ankles. The cold air hit your exposed skin, making you shiver. You pulled your Poppers back out and took another deep hit, the world dissolving into a warm, pulsing haze. Before you could even cap the bottle, you felt him behind you. He didn't wait. He didn't prep. He just grabbed your hips, his grip like iron, steadying you as he slammed his raw, thick cock into you in one brutal, satisfying stroke. The burn was immediate, but the Poppers turned it into pleasure. He started fucking you with an aggressive, short-stroked rhythm, a man on a mission. There was no finesse, only force. Each thrust drove the air from your lungs, your PA swinging wildly with the impact. You were just a hole for him to use, and the thought of it made you dizzy with lust. It wasn't a prolonged fuck; it was a lightning strike. He was clearly just looking for a quick release. After maybe twenty, thirty seconds of relentless pounding, his grip on your hips tightened painfully. "I'm cumming," he grunted, the words strained and urgent. "Shoot it all inside me!" you gasped, pushing back against him, wanting to absorb every drop. "Give me everything!" He let out a deep, guttural groan, and you felt it—the hot, powerful, pulsing warmth as he emptied himself inside you. He held himself deep, his body shuddering as he drained himself into your guts. He stayed there for a moment, his chest heaving against your back, then pulled out as abruptly as he'd entered. A sudden coldness hit your exposed, wet hole. You both quickly rearranged your clothes, the silence of the woods pressing in around you. You turned to face him. He was already zipping up his jeans, his face unreadable. He looked you straight in the eye. "You are healthy???" he asked, his voice casual, but the three question marks hung in the air, turning it into an accusation, a challenge. "Yes," you answered. It wasn't a lie. It was the truth. You were healthy. For now. He watched your face as you said it, a flicker of something in his dark eyes. Was it satisfaction? Triumph? Or was it just the simple relief of a guy who'd gotten what he wanted and was now covering his own bases? He gave a slow, knowing smile. "Good," he said. He didn't offer any information about himself. He didn't say "I'm clean too." He just nodded, as if you had passed a test, and then turned and walked away, disappearing back towards the parking lot without a backward glance. You stood there for a moment, your body trembling, his cum already starting to leak out of you and down your thigh. The drive back to work was a blur. The encounter played on a loop in your mind: the confidence in his eyes, the brutal force of his fucking, the heat of his load, and that one, pointed question. And a new, terrifying thought kept surfacing: Did those thirty seconds change my life? Now you're back home, the day finally over. You're lying naked on your bed, your hand stroking your hard cock. The memory is so vivid, so powerful. But it's the question that's consuming you. You are healthy??? Why the emphasis? He was so dominant, so unconcerned with anything but his own pleasure. Why did that one thing matter so much? And then a new, terrifying thought takes root, blossoming in your mind, dark and beautiful. What if he gets off on this? What if the question wasn't about safety; it was about eligibility. He wasn't asking if you were a safe place to fuck. He was asking if you were a worthy target. He wanted to know if you were negative, if your "yes" meant anything. Maybe he's a collector. Maybe he gets a thrill from pozzing neg guys, from turning another man, from adding another notch to his belt. Your honest answer, your "Yes," wasn't a reassurance for him. It was the green light. It was confirmation that you were a prize worth claiming. But then the other possibility, the logical one, pushes back. Maybe he was just a regular guy, a player who loved to fuck raw but was terrified of the consequences. Maybe he asked because he genuinely needed to know for his own peace of mind, a hypocritical but human act of self-preservation. Maybe his smile was just the cocky smirk of a young man who'd gotten away with exactly what he wanted. You can see it now so clearly. He wasn't just fucking you. He was converting you. Every powerful thrust was a hammer blow, forging a new reality. The heat of his load wasn't just cum; it was an inoculation. A gift. A curse. You were just another victim, another story he could tell himself. You moan, stroking your cock faster. The thought is so repulsive, so dangerous, and so unbelievably hot. You reach back and press two fingers into your still-slick hole. You pull them out, coated in his essence. You bring them to your lips, and this time, you don't just taste. You lick. You suck them clean, imagining the millions of potential viruses swarming in your mouth, in your blood. You're so close. You're right on the edge. You close your eyes and you can feel him inside you again, but now it's different. It's not just a memory. It's a transformation. Was that just an anonymous fuck on a Tuesday afternoon? Or was it the moment you were chosen? The moment you were changed? You'll never know for sure. You'll never see him again. You'll have to live with the uncertainty, with the three-month wait, with the gnawing, exhilarating possibility. And as your own cum explodes across your chest, hot and thick, you realize that this uncertainty is the ultimate prize. He didn't just fuck your ass—he fucked your brain. He gave you a gift that will last forever: the endless, thrilling question of what he really left behind.

Tommy's fingers twitched against his phone screen, scrolling through Grindr profiles with the practiced boredom of someone who'd done this too many times. His thumb lingered on a photo—some guy with dilated pupils and a lazy smirk, shirtless in what looked like a dealer's dim living room. The caption read "party favors?" and Tommy exhaled sharply through his nose. The room smelled like stale sweat and the faint chemical tang of leftover vape juice. He adjusted his grip on himself, hips shifting against the sheets, imagining the press of unfamiliar hands pinning him down, the burn of smoke in his lungs before everything went soft at the edges. His pulse jumped when the app pinged—another message from someone named "Cloud9" with a wink emoji and an address two blocks over. Tommy's fingers hesitated over the reply box. He could already picture the sticky heat of a stranger’s apartment, the way the carpet would feel under his bare knees. His thumb hovered—then the front door creaked open downstairs. His stomach lurched. He wasn’t expecting anyone. The footsteps were too quick, too purposeful, the kind that didn’t bother to wipe their shoes on the mat. The bedroom door slammed open before he could sit up. Two figures blurred into the room—one tall with a shaved head, the other wiry, grinning like this was fucking Christmas. Tommy’s mouth went dry. He opened it to yell, but the taller one lunged, a damp cloth reeking of chemicals smothering his face. His nostrils burned. His vision swam. "Easy, pigboy," the wiry one chuckled, knee digging into Tommy’s thigh as he fought. The taste of acetone flooded his mouth. His limbs turned liquid. Distantly, he felt fingers—rough, calloused—wrapping around his cock, stroking him through the haze. His hips jerked involuntarily. The last coherent thought before the dark swallowed him whole: *fuck, I’m still hard.* Cold linoleum pressed against his cheek when he blinked awake. His tongue felt like cotton. The room spun—fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting long shadows of figures moving behind him. A hand gripped his hair, yanking his head back. "Look alive," someone muttered. A phone camera clicked. Tommy’s vision swam into focus on the screen—his own slack face, pupils blown, spit slicking his chin. Behind him, Shaved Head smirked, gripping Tommy’s jaw. "Say *ahh*." Wrists jerked against padded cuffs. He was spread-eagled in some kind of medical sling, ankles hooked wide, the restraints biting into his skin. His cock twitched against his thigh—still half-hard—and the realization hit like a bucket of ice water. *Naked.* Blindfolded. The gag wasn’t fabric; it was silicone, contoured to force his mouth open just enough to breathe. He tried to scream. It came out a wet gurgle. “Should’ve answered my fucking messages, Tommy.” A familiar voice—Cloud9 from Grindr—low and amused, somewhere to his right. A fingertip dragged down Tommy’s sternum, nails scraping just shy of pain. “Would’ve been easier on you. But nah, you had to be a *tease*.” Something cold and metallic tapped against his ribs. “Think he’s ready?” The taller one—Shaved Head—snorted. “Oh, he’s ready.” The words dripped like syrup. “Look at him. Already leaking.” Tommy thrashed, heels skidding against the restraints, his pleas muffled into nonsense by the gag. His cock betrayed him, thickening against his stomach, the tip smearing precome onto his skin. The wiry one laughed, leaning in close enough for Tommy to smell stale cigarettes and mint gum. “Begging looks good on you,” he murmured, and then—sharp, sudden—the hiss of compressed air. The gag’s valve clicked open. A rush of chemical sweetness flooded Tommy’s mouth, his nostrils, the back of his throat. Poppers. His vision tunneled instantly, heat surging from his belly to his fingertips. His cock jerked, fully hard now, aching. Shaved Head gripped Tommy’s jaw, forcing his head back. “Swallow,” he ordered. Tommy gagged—too much, too fast—but the liquid burned down his throat anyway, thick as syrup. His muscles slackened instantly, limbs heavy as lead. “There you go,” the taller one crooned, palming Tommy’s cock with rough strokes. “Feels better already, huh?” Tommy’s head lolled. His thoughts dissolved into static, the world narrowing to the drag of calloused fingers on his skin. Distantly, he registered the wiry one rummaging through a bag—glass clinking, foil tearing—but his body wasn’t his anymore. It arched into every touch, every scrape of teeth against his neck. Something tight and elastic circled his bicep—rubber bands, pulled taut just shy of pain. Tommy’s pulse hammered against the constriction, his skin flushing hot where the bands bit in. The wiry one whistled low, admiring his work. “Look at that,” he murmured, flicking one band with a fingernail. It twanged against Tommy’s flesh, sending a jolt straight to his cock. “Veins popping like a fucking map.” Shaved Head chuckled, rolling a needle between his fingers. The glint of steel made Tommy’s stomach twist—but his hips jerked anyway, needy and dumb. “Gonna make you feel so good, piggy,” the taller one promised, thumb pressing into the swollen blue vein beneath the rubber band. The needle slid in with practiced ease—sharp, then gone—and Tommy gasped around the gag as something warm and liquid flooded his dick. Trimix, probably. His cock throbbed instantly, swelling thicker, heavier, the head purpling under the fluorescent lights. His balls drew up tight against his body, the skin there already tingling, oversensitive. The wiry one whistled again. “Christ. Look at him twitch.” His fingers traced the straining vein along Tommy’s shaft, featherlight. Tommy whimpered—half-protest, half-plea—but the sound dissolved into a moan when the taller one pinched his nipple, hard. “You are going to make a *perfect* slam pig,” Shaved Head murmured, lips brushing Tommy’s ear. His breath smelled like whiskey and spearmint. “All that wasted potential…” His hand slid down Tommy’s chest, over his quivering stomach, then wrapped around his cock again. The grip was merciless. Tommy’s hips bucked, helpless, his vision blurring at the edges. “See? Even now—” A sharp twist of his wrist. Tommy choked on a sob. “—your body knows what it’s for.” The needle gleamed in the light as the taller one flicked it between his fingers. “Nothing you can do to stop this.” Tommy’s cock pulsed violently against the rubber encasement, veins straining against the slick latex, the pressure so tight his balls ached with every heartbeat. The wiry one laughed—bright, delighted—and leaned in to press another soaked rag to Tommy’s face. Poppers flooded his sinuses, sharp as shattered glass. The room dissolved into fractals, colors bleeding into shapes that didn’t exist. His cock throbbed, trapped and desperate, the sensation magnified by the drugs singing through his bloodstream. He tried to scream, but the gag muffled it into a wet groan. Shaved Head moved first—fluid, practiced—palming a syringe from the tray with the ease of someone who’d done this a hundred times. The needle gleamed under the flickering fluorescents. Tommy’s stomach lurched. The wiry one straddled his hips, pinning him with bony knees, fingers digging into Tommy’s biceps hard enough to bruise. Shaved Head tapped the syringe with a fingernail, clearing the air bubble with a flick of his wrist. The liquid inside shimmered, oily and thick. “Left arm,” he murmured, and Tommy’s breath hitched when cold alcohol swabbed the crook of his elbow. The second needle slipped in—sharp, then gone—buried deep in the vein. Tommy’s pulse hammered against the intrusion. The wiry one grinned, pressing his thumb to Tommy’s wrist, holding him down like a butterfly pinned to corkboard. Shaved Head’s fingers curled around the plunger. Their eyes met—some silent signal—and Tommy’s throat clicked around a soundless plea. Both plunger depressed quickly and empty into Pigboys mind body and spirit. Tommy didn’t even feel the needles withdraw. The popper rush had already hollowed out his skull, reducing the world to a kaleidoscope of fractured light and sound. His lungs seized mid-breath—triple coughs ripping through him, wet and jagged. His chest convulsed. “Oh fuck—” His voice cracked. The fluorescent lights above streaked into white-hot halos. “Oh fuck—” His cock jerked, untouched, spitting precome onto his stomach. “Oh fuck me—” The taller one laughed—low, indulgent—as he wiped Tommy’s chin with his thumb. “Already are, piggy.” His fingers tangled in Tommy’s hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat. “Look at you. Just—” A sharp slap to Tommy’s cheek. His vision swam. “—falling apart.” Tommy’s breath hitched, his lungs burning with the lingering chemical sweetness. The air tasted like burnt plastic and sweat. He barely registered the creak of hinges—the front door swinging open downstairs—over the roar of blood in his ears. Footsteps pounded up the stairs, too heavy, too eager. The bedroom door bounced off the wall with a crack. Two new figures loomed in the doorway—one built like a linebacker, his knuckles already wrapped in grimy tape, the other slim-hipped with a shock of bleached hair. Both reeked of stale beer and leather. The linebacker whistled low, eyeing Tommy’s twitching cock. “Fuck, he’s primed.” Bleached Hair grinned, rolling up his sleeves to reveal a latticework of track marks. “Like Christmas came early.” Tommy’s hole clenched around nothing as the taller one—Shaved Head—slicked two fingers with something cold and viscous. The lube smelled clinical, sterile, like a hospital corridor. Tommy whimpered around the gag when those fingers pressed in without warning, the stretch burning even through the chemical haze. “Relax,” Shaved Head murmured, twisting his wrist. Tommy’s thighs trembled. “Gonna ruin you so good.” The fingers crooked, and Tommy’s back arched off the table—a sharp, electric jolt straight to his cock. His balls ached—already swollen and tight—when the wiry one knelt between his legs, a trio of heavy steel rings clinking in his palm. The first stretcher clicked into place with a *snap*, the cold metal cinching tight around Tommy’s sack. His breath hitched. The second followed—tighter, lower—forcing his nuts to stretch obscenely away from his body. By the third, Tommy’s thighs were shaking, his dick *pulling* with every heartbeat, the weight dragging his balls down into a taut, flushed pendulum. The wiry one grinned, giving the lowest stretcher a sharp tug. “Look at that,” he breathed. “Like a fucking bellrope.” Tommy barely registered the laughter—low and thick, from somewhere behind him—until a broad hand clamped down on his shoulder. The voice was deep, honeyed with amusement. “Thas what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.” Fingers—thick, blunt—trailed down Tommy’s spine, pausing at the dip of his waist. “We gonna milk this pig from the inside out.” The hand slid lower, calloused palm scraping over Tommy’s ass, squeezing hard enough to bruise. Tommy’s vision swam. His mouth worked around the gag—useless—as Shaved Head leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Breathe through it, pig.” His breath was hot, whiskey-sour. “Cause you got more cummin’.” Tommy’s stomach flipped. The words slithered under his skin, curling around his spine like smoke. “First stage of your pigboy transformation’s begun.” A wet chuckle. “Time to be consumed with pleasure.”

Gonorrhoea 3 times last year and currently have it again but never had anything else. Its almost expected ill catch something when taking lots of guys in a sauna cumdump session, especially when one guys dick was already visibly dripping discharge before he put it in me on the last session in a sling but i just see it as part of the life.

I was recently in pleasuredome and my opnion is it isnt great. The dark room is tiny and little action actually happening. I went to locker room afterwards, it was quiter but I still took 3 loadsin an hour. In pleasuredome I took 1 in two hours.

I don’t understand bottoms disliking hairy tops, are they sure they’re real bottoms. To me a guy with a hairy crotch is more like a real man, and if he sweats and smells like a real man the better.

Thank you, this is perfectly said. I never say "fucking" without saying "fucking bareback". The distinction is huge. I love using bareback as a verb and as a noun. I love seeing and hearing the word when I'm spun. If you don't mind me verbalizing during sex I'll say the word "bareback" 100 times, often without any context at all. "Unprotected" is also a hot descriptor when applied to someone's hole or cock.

I'm fine with completely shaved pubes, purposely groomed, trimmed pubes, as well as completely un-groomed pubes. I suppose I'm not looking for a total stink-bomb, but I'm fine with any and all.

I think it can be both … it depends on how you do it. …. Or more specifically if you verbalize it … how important doing it raw is to you. are you “fucking” or “fucking bareback”? For a lot of guys …. Especially younger guys who did not live the through the 80’s and 90’s - so were not indoctrinated with “you must always use condoms EVERY time” … it is just how they have sex …. Especially now with PrEP they can even be a 70’s style cum slut - but not think of BB as a fetish but for veterans (survivors?) of the 80’s and 90’s who now BB and make being verbal about the fact that they are fucking raw, having unprotected sex, not using condoms…. Than for these guys at that time …. It is a fetish So I would say that most of the guys on here …. At least some of the time enjoy the “fetish” …. Or at least “fetishize” BB sex. and I think some guys practice both …. just like guys who are into leather, cigars, bondage, etc. …. Some times may just have “normal” sex and sometimes have “fetish” sex (whatever that fetish might be)

Bareback is the most natural way for humans to have sex. It is what we have always done for millennia. Lots of sexual things get fetishized, but that doesn't make the them a fetish, it is that fetishist's individual action that makes it a fetish for themselves.. For the rest of us it is just natural human sex.

Can't it just be whatever it is to whoever is doing it? Why does it need labels?

Part 4 The 4 men were spent. My throbbing hole oozed cum, and I just lay on the floor, my brain spinning in a million directions at once. I still felt shame at being raped by these 4 black men, but I also still craved more cock inside me, fucking me, pounding me, breeding me like a common bitch. I was so confused. Without a word Mr. Jackson approached me with something in his hand I had never seen. It was long like a big dick, and got wider near the end of it, really wide, then it suddenly narrowed and had a base on it. "Pull his legs up!" He told one of the men. My legs were quickly pulled over my head, exposing my dripping hole. Mr. Jackson started to push this thing into me, stretching my asslips further open until it reached a painful point, at which he stopped. Looking down, I could see some of it still sticking out of me. Mr. Jackson just stood up and lined his boot up with the end. Raising his leg, he kicked the end full force, ramming the rest of it all the way in me with one brutal thrust. "AAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGG" I screamed as I saw stars and almost passed out. Mr. Jackson just hit my shock collar and the men all laughed as I jerked around the floor, screaming and crying, pain engulphing my body from head to toe. Eventually it subsided a bit and the men grabbed me. One forced a ball into my mouth, buckeling it right around my head. Another grabbed my ankles, tightly wrapping rough rope around and around immobilizing my legs, and another grabbed my arms and did the same behind my back. Then I was picked up and placed into a leather body bag and zipped up tight. I could hear the men leaving as I was left bound in darkness. I have no idea how long I spent like this. I know it was hours. I had lost all sense of time. I tried not to think about the position I was in. Just yesterday I was happily at home with my family, and now I was literally a piece of fucked up property with no idea or even say about what was going to happen to me. My body ached. My jaw ached. And mostly my ass ached with what felt like a log jammed up there. My head spun, my heart raced, and I alternated between screaming and crying and praying into my gag, all while I sweated buckets. After who knows how many hours I spent like this, I suddenly felt myself being picked up and thrown over Mr. Jackson's shoulders. I was carried and dumped into the back of the truck, and felt it start to drive away from the cabin to God only knew where. We drove for what must have been a couple hours. I could tell we were back in the city by all the sounds around me, even though I was still in my dark cocoon. Eventually we stopped and Mr. Jackson got out of the cab and unzipped my sack. "Don't say a word slut!" He ordered me as he undid my gag and untied my arms and legs. "I told you I was your pimp now, and your about to make your first sale." I secretly wept a little inside as I realized I was really going to be made into a prostitute. Another step closer to the devil. He just attached a leash to my collar and pulled me off the truck. Thankfully it was dark, so no one could really see me as I was led naked to the front door of a run down house. Mr. Jackson rang the bell and we were admitted inside. It was dimly lit but I could see several people. On the couch was a woman passed out while a guy was fucking her. In the corner sat a young shirtless guy pushing a needle into his arm, his eyes rolling back into his head as he pushed the plunger. He was really skinny and sickley looking. Mr. Jackson just led me past these people into a back bedroom. There were two black men in there sitting on a dirty bed, passing a glass pipe between them. The larger of the two stood up and leered at me. "Dis the Jesus boy? Damn....mighty fine piece of white boy pussy!" He said handing Mr. Jackson a bag of powder. "His cunt nice and stretched?" "It needs a lot more stretching!" Mr. Jackson laughed pushing me face down onto the bed. "But it's got a good start!" With that he grabbed the huge plug in my ass and ripped it out hard. I howled as a new burning tore through my body yet I felt oddly empty. I wouldn't have to wait. Almost immediately a cock almost as huge as the plug slid deep up into me. My poor ass had no choice but to take him. The other guy held the pipe up to my mouth and told me to suck. Without hesitation I put my lips around it and inhaled my first ever hit. He made me hit it several times while the big guy kept fucking me. When the pipe was empty, he grabbed my thighs and started to pound me as hard as he could. His cock curved upward and relentlessly rammed a spot deep inside me that set me on fire. Soon I was moaning and grunting like a true whore, begging for it harder and harder. He gave me all he had, grabbing my hair and pulling my head back, bending my body while he pummeled me. "Damn nice pussy! You found a good one here! It's almost a shame he's going to eventually be a worthless used up cumdump! Take it you little whore! You ain't nothin but a little meth whore! Take my cum you faggot!" He buried himself balls deep and unloaded his seed far into my guts. I just panted and moaned as I felt his cock throb. After he pulled out the other guy stuck his cock in me. He wasn't as big, but I didn't care. I just wanted him in me, fucking me, using my pussy as a cumdump. He rode me for a while before he too shot his load in my hungry pussy. When the men had finished, Mr. Jackson just pulled me off the bed and pushed me into the living room, past the boy in the corner and the passed out woman on the couch. The guy that had fucked her was long gone. "That will be you one day, Jesus boy. A fucked up, passed out hole for anyone to dump in." I shuddered a bit at the thought, as my dick got hard at the thought. Mr. Jackson just pushed me out the door and into the truck cab, pushing me onto the floor. I just lay there, my ass dripping fresh cum as we drove off to our next stop.

My New Life I kept the plug in all night and all the next day, and when I was done with class at three thirty I went back to Anthony’s hornier then I had ever been in my entire life. I found him sitting naked in his living room, Max on the floor, and five new guys who I had never seen before getting blown by Max. “Good you’re here,” Anthony said, and he led me back to the sling, pulled the plug out of my ass and said to this new group, “Ok. Go.” I spent that night as I has spent the one before, my ass wide open taking each cock as it came to me. At the end of the night Max dumped a thick load in me and then so did Anthony, and then the plug returned. “You’re going to keep that in at all times boy, the only time you’re to take it out is when you’re gonna get fucked. Understand?” I nodded. “Ok, now I’m going away on business till next Monday which is when I’ll see you again. You’re task is to take another twenty loads before I get back that gives you four day to get twenty loads. I already know of two that you’re gonna get and I’ve given your number to everyone who bred you today or yesterday so that should help you, but you had better spend some time on a4a and grindr and find yourself some new loads to take. Understand boy?” “Yes Sir.” “Good. Now get out.” Max smiled at me as he left and showed me the new contact he had added to his iPhone. It said Dumpster and listed my number. “Tom had work tonight, so expect a call from him tomorrow he as sad he missed that sweet cunt. When I got home I felt the same elation as the night before mixed with a new dread. It was one thing for these guys to come to Anthony’s place and find some kid they didn’t know open and ready for cock but for them to have my number and probably my name. The anonymity that I felt had protected me was gone, but then again that was an illusion too because Professor Ross knew and I had to go see him in the morning. I took a few deep breaths and decided to just go to bed and see what happened in the morning. I woke up the next morning to my phone ringing; I looked at the screen and saw a number I didn’t recognize. Groggily I answered. “Good morning cumdump.” My heart stopped. “Who is this,” I stammered. “Professor Ross boy. I was thinking about your warm cunt all day yesterday and I figured rather then stopping class and breeding you right there in front of everyone that I would have you come to my office in half an hour to get your first load of the day.” “I just woke up Professor… and I haven’t showered…” “Don’t bother, I know you got bred last night. I wanna see that dried cum on your ass cheeks. Half an hour boy, don’t be late.” He hung up. For a few moments I lay in my bed frozen, then I felt my hole twitch around the base of the plug still firmly mounted there and I knew what my decision was. I jumped out of bed and grabbed a pair of gym shorts pulled them over the tighty whities I had put on before bed, tugged a sweat shirt over my head and started to walk across campus to the English building. It took nearly fifteen minutes to get there but with the plug up my ass they were fifteen very arousing minutes, buy the time I got to the main doors I was in heat. I had never been to Professor Roth’s office so it took me almost another fifteen minutes to find it. So at exactly twenty eight minutes after the professor had rung off I knocked on the half frosted glass door to his office. When the professor opened the door my heart skipped a beat. It hadn’t been a dream, I really had been fucked by my professor at my first gang bang and I was now standing at his office door to get fucked by him again. Ross smiled and usered me in. For what seemed like forever he just stood there with his back against the now closed door in his well tailored tweed suit the only evidence that this was not a normal student teacher meeting was the pronounced bulge which was forming in the front of his pants. “Good morning boy.” “Good morning Professor.” “Well don’t just stand there, take your clothes off and come suck my cock.” I tore my clothes off and rushed to kneel in front of him my plugged ass arching backward inventing him in as I released his throbbing cock from his trousers. The full nine inches sprung forward and I eagerly rapped my lips around the mushroom head. He grabbed the back of my head and forced his cock down my throat till I gagged on it. I looked up at him with tears in my eyes but the Professor just smiled and started face fucking me. Despite gagging and spluttering on his cock and frequently panicking that I could not breath I could tell that my hole was yearning for his cock flexing and winking it begged to take his load. The Professor suddenly shoved his whole cock down my throat forcing me to deep throat him, in my panic trying to gulp down air I swallowed hard and felt his cock just slid down no longer choking me. As my throat relaxed so did my ass and out popped the plug a long with a little trickle of cum. “Man your hole is hungry for cock today, look at how it just spit out that plug.” He pulled his cock from my throat, “Ok boy, bend over my desk.” I got up and walked over to the large wooden desk that took up most of the room and bent over it, my ass pointing towards the Professor. I squeezed my sphincter muscles making my hole wink as invitingly as I could at him. But the Professor didn’t need much encouraging, he walked over and in one move sank his entire cock into my cum slicked hole. I moaned loudly and the Professor clamped his hand over my mouth. “Quite whore,” he whispered, “or the whole building will hear you.” Silently he began to pound me hole and I desperately tried not to make a sound only allowing the occasional squeak to make it out. The Professor clearly intended to make this a fast fuck because there was none of the longs slow teasing that occurred last time just a determination to dump a load in my cunt. He hammered away relentlessly for what must have been fifteen minutes, during the course of which the desk must have shifted a good foot from the force of his pounding, before he sunk balls deep inside of me and unleashed a ******* of cum on my bowels. It was if a river were flowing inside of me. Then he let his cock slacked and fall out of my cunt and having retrieved the plug from the floor stuffed that back into my ass. “Ok, get dressed boy, and don’t be late for class.”

I staggered down the hallway, my legs shaking with every step, with the two frat boys supporting me from either side. I could feel the cum that had escaped from my ass during my most recent breeding running down my legs. I felt dirty and used and proud of it, I wasn’t quite sure how that was possible but I knew that I had done a good job for these men. I once again had the sensation of feeling completely fulfilled and the desperate need for more cock and cum. The boys led me into a room at the far end of the apartment. I stumbled through the red door and gasped, at the back of this seemingly normal apartment was a playroom. In the middle of the room hung a sling, a fuck-bench sat over on one side, two huge cabinets took up one whole wall. All over the black painted were hung picture of boys in a sling getting fucked, guessed from the video earlier that these were all boys who had been fucked in the very sling that now hung in front of me. “Welcome to my playroom boy,” Anthony announce stepping out from a door at the back of the room. He was sill naked but now had added a leather harness across his chest and a thick black cock ring to the base of his magnificent cock. “This is where you are going to spend the rest of your night finally becoming what you were always meant to be, a cumdump for any and all men who need one. So how about you hop up unto the sling and we’ll start your first video.” I walked as quickly as I could with the massive plug still wedged in my ass and my legs being as shaky as they were. I lifted myself into the sling and lay back. “Good boy, alright now you two go get ready for tonight. Max you’re gonna be the second bottom tonight.” A look of glee crossed Max’s face at this and the two made to leave through the door the Anthony had entered. “Tom, give him some of nature’s lube too for tonight.” “Yes Sir!” And with that the two of them were gone. “You enjoyed our resident frat boys then did you?” “Yeah. Tom’s cock is…” “Stretched your hole out good boy… Well he’s about to do the same to Max.” “Lucky.” “I found those two on line their freshman year, I fucked and bred them all of their first semester and then at Christmas Break I introduced them to each other and started using them to help break in new bottom boys like you. Tom is a far better top then he ever was bottom, so is Max really but with those fat round furry ass cheeks he was clearly meant to take cock too. Did they promise you a double penetration tonight boy?” “Yes!” “You sound excited, I did well picking you. You are never going to be the same after tonight boy, especially after taking their cocks together. I wouldn’t be surprised if you spend your breaks either here in my sling or in the back from of some bathhouse taking loads up your cunt.” Anthony came over to the sling with a hand held camera in his hand, he flicked it on and said, “We’ve got a new boy here today, until this afternoon he was a safe-sex-only bottom boy, but now he’s learned what he really is. Show us your hole boy.” Yesterday I would never have allowed someone to film me naked, but now with four loads sloshing around in my cunt held in by a fat plug covered in a slick stinking fuck sweat I lifted my legs up into the sling revealing my used up cum covered ass for the camera. “Good boy, alright boy tell the folks at home your name and what you are.” “My name is Mark and I’m a cumslut for raw cock.” “How many loads have you had up your cunt today?” “Four.” “How many do you want?” “As many as you can get me.” “Perfect. Ok now boy you stay there for a few minutes and I’m going to go check on who’s coming to your coming out party and then I’ll be back to give you one more load before they start showing up. Hang tight cunt.” Anthony left the room and I laid back in the sling, my legs still spread and my plugged hole exposed to the open door to the hallway. Staring at the ceiling I realized that there was a television mounted facing down, “strange,” I thought. As I lay there, despite my intense arousal I started to feel exhausted, and slowly drifted off to the sleep to the sounds of Max getting bred in the next room…

PART TWO The door opened and I heard foot steps coming down the hall. I panicked a little trying to pull away from Anthony’s pounding cock but he caught me with his strong hands and continued to fuck my hole as two men came into the room. I stared at them in horror of what they had found, but neither one of them seemed surprised to find Anthony with his cock buried in some strange guy in fact they looked pleased. “Don’t worry boy, they're here to help you learn your true place. Max and Tom live downstairs. They graduated two years ago and decided that some things,” he slammed into my ass particularly hard a few times, “in this town are just to good to leave, so they stayed.” I looked at the two men and realized that they weren’t that much older then me. In fact they looked like the frat boys I lusted over every day. One of them was about my height but was built like a football player, he had short blond hair sticking up under a baseball cap, as I watched he pulled his wife beater t-shirt over his head revealing pits bursting with dirty blond hair. The other was the perfect all American boy, about six foot with brown hair a strong jaw and swimmers body, he wore a black t-shirt and sweat pants which were beginning to reveal a sizable bulge. “How about you boys get naked and give this cumdumpster something to suck on while I give him the second load of his life.” A small part of my brain wondered why I was letting this happen, why I was pushing my ass back against this man I had met not three hours ago and had already blown a load in my, until then, 'condom-only' ass, but then I saw the blond boy (who I would later learn was Max) pull his jeans off revealing a pair of white briefs fit to bursting with a fact cock and stunning balls and I didn’t care any more. Tom was faster then Max and had already dropped his sweat pants before Max could pull off his underwear. Tom was like a mini version of Anthony, in fact he was probably what Anthony had looked like ten years prior, lithe and dark with thick patches of hair starting to grow together all of him. His cock was not as long as Anthony’s but it was certainly thicker. This all American boy was swinging not a bat but a can of Guinness, and all around the base and over his nice round balls was a thick dark bush. Max was much less hairy then the other two men, he had thick pit hair and incredibly hairy legs and ass, but other then that his torso was almost smooth. His nipples were a bright pink and his skin a pail white. His cock was probably eight inches long an nearly as thick as Anthony’s. Despite the sensible part of my brains warnings I knew as soon as I saw those two cocks that I needed them inside me and I knew I needed their loads in my cunt. Both men got down on their knees in front of me and pressed their cock to my lips. Obediently I opened my mouth and began trying to acuminate them both. Behind me Anthony had begun grunting and pounding like an animal and I knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Just as Tom began to force his cock deeper into my mouth Anthony grabbed my hips and slammed balls-deep into me. Once again I felt the astounding pulsations of his cock deep in my gut and then the rush of warmth as his cum filled-up my cunt. After a moment he pulled-out with a wet sloppy plop and staggered to his feet. Max wasted no time in sliding his cock into my gaping hole while Tom started to fuck my face. I gagged on the cock slamming against my tonsils while I bucked back on the cock ramming my ass. Although I couldn't see Anthony, I could hear him chuckling in the background. “Look at you now, being spit roasted by two former frat boys with two loads up your sweet cunt, when just this morning you had never been bred before. Are you having fun, boy?” “God yes,” I tried to answer around Tom’s insanely fat cock. All three of them laughed at the muffled sound and Tom redoubled his efforts and fucking my throat. Max’s cock had me writhing all over the place as he deep-dicked me, pulling almost all the way out before sliding it slowly back into my cum lubed hole again and again. But good as his cock felt I needed his load. “Tom, pull-out the boy’s mouth for a minute. I need him to be able to answer me.” Tom pulled-out of my mouth at Anthony’s bidding and moved behind me with Max. Anthony squatted down in front of me, his now half mast cock right in my face. Gently, he lifted my chin so I was looking him in the eyes. “You’re a good boy. Now, these two frat boys are gonna finish using you sweet new cunt pretty soon 'cause we don’t wanna wreck it too bad before your coming out party tonight. I’ve invited around fifteen guys to come over in an hour to breed your hole. There are no rules except that all loads must go in your cunt. Do you want those loads, boy? Do you want your load count to be at least eighteen tonight?” Max had changed from slowly sliding his cock back in each time to slamming his cock back up my cunt just as hard as he could. All that I could say between grunts of pleasure was “YES!” “Good boy, now Max, give the slut what he needs.” Max grunted savagely and started to jackhammer my hole. I could feel cum spewing from his dick inside of me, splashing against the walls of my cunt. No sooner was Max done then Tom was working his way inside me calling, “My turn.” Despite the vicious poundings I had received that day Tom’s beer can thick cock was still stretching my hole out even more. He pushed inside slowly but steadily, until the whole thing was inside and I could feel his pubes against my ass cheeks and his balls resting against mine. He held still for a moment before drawing back slowly and building up the pace of his fucking till he was like a jack rabbit who had just gotten out of jail. Max leaned in close and whispered to me, “Itn't Tom’s cock amazing?” “Fuck, yes.” “I love taking his cock.” “I can’t wait for his load!” “You’ll get it soon.” “God, I’ll be so loose then it’ll just drip out.” “You think you’re loose now? Just wait until we double-dick you." “You want my load, boy?” Tom said panting. “Please breed me! I need you load in my cunt!” “Yeah fucking pig.” Tom slammed balls deep again, stretching my hole just a little bit more to accommodate it’s base as shot after shot after shot of cum rocketed into my bowels. “Just wait pig, at the end of the night Max and I are going to make sure your cunt can handle whatever the world throws your way. “Put this in his ass,” Anthony came back into the room and handed Max a black butt plug, a really big black butt plug. Without hesitating, Tom pulled out of my ass and Max slammed the plug in to make up for the lack of cock inside of me. “Ok boy. You’ve got twenty minutes till your party guests get here. We’ll get you in the sing in a few minutes, but first I think there is something you should see.” He motioned to Max and Tom who helped me to shaky knees and led me down the hallway to another room…