rawTOP

I'd worry more about the physical changes to your body. Your body naturally produces both testosterone and estrogen. Without your balls you won't be producing testosterone, the estrogen will become dominant and your body will start looking more like that of a woman. While some guys like fems, most gay guys don't - so it may have a negative effect on your sex life. OR you have to take testosterone... I've always thought the best route for someone like you is to cut off the dick, remove one testicle and put the other testicle up inside your body. That way you keep producing testosterone, but by losing your dick and the appearance of your balls, you sorta achieve your goal. But I'm not even sure if it's possible to put a testicle up inside the body. Keep us posted on your progress... Personally I'm fascinated by the whole process. I wish there were more porn out there with guys who've been modified. I found an art book once of FTM transsexuals once and was fascinated by the guys who kept their vaginas... It was sorta hot - literally guys with pussies... But of course they're in a very different headspace and usually wind up with women.

Ummm... This is in the FICTION section... It really is just a story - not something I did personally...

@goodboygonebad - Welcome to Breeding Zone! If you're replying to someone in particular, try the 'reply with quote' option - helps people make sense of your response.

Just wanted to say happy birthday to OKCBottom.... By eastern time I'm a few minutes late, but I think it's still yesterday where he is (in Oklahoma City) Looks like he turned 23 today. He lists himself as a neg bottom... Looks like he hasn't been on the site in 2 months... Hopefully that will change and he'll be back soon...

Just so everyone knows, I'm starting to reward guys who participate here... 1) I just offered to pay for a month of BBRT for YoungHungTop and SubmissiveFaggot because they started the two most popular threads on the site. 2) I also bought 3 other guys BBRT memberships today. I needed something small done for me. I knew the guys could do what I needed done because they had participated in a relevant thread here, they did it and got a free month of BBRT. I will continue to reward people who start threads that turn out to be popular - so start some good threads! And there will also be rewards for other things, but they'll be more random. But when I see people who really make a difference here, I'll reward the person in some way.

I went to the Baths early Sunday morning to see who was still hanging around. There's always a few addicts who can’t get enough. In the Steam Room I ran into Mr. Hard Bod ramming his Dick up some Scroungey Twink. When I started fingering his Butt, he urged that I to go slow since he was usually a Top; but he'd love to play once he'd finished with the Cunt. So he invited Fossilized and me back to his room. After he got his Manmeat repositioned in Decrepit's Bottom, I started rimming his Ass till he was juicy. He cautioned he only took it raw, and no other way would do. "No problemo!" I replied, though I thought that kinda odd. As I eased my Cock in him, he went bananas. He'd buried his Dick way up the Scag's Cunt, then held stock still while I entered his Hole. We got in sync, the three of us, so that, while he screwed away at that tired old worn-out Slut's Pussy, he was milking my POZ COCK with his Ass muscles. As I started to pant, he twisted around. "Sure hope you're NEG cause I'm letting you fuck me raw." Stupid Asshole! Why the Hell was he taking it raw if he wanted to play SAFE? "Yeah, I'm NEG, and I'm gonna fill your Pussy—NOW!" Load after Load of my thick Toxic Spooge spurted into his Hole as he unloaded his own hapless Seed in the Scruffy Twink. I stayed another hour and shot two more Noxious Loads up his Dumb Ass. I saw him near the door as I was leaving. He was still in his towel, parading around; and I was fully dressed and ready to go. Suddenly I wanted desperately to bust his bubble. I couldn't help myself. "Hey, Pal, to tell you the truth…All those Loads I pumped in you WEre…POZ!" I turned and high-tailed it out of there. I saw him again a couple months later. His POZ diagnosis had been confirmed, and he was out breeding NEGs. At first I didn't know what to expect—a slugfest or what. But when he walked up, he explained that I was only one of three Tops who could have bred him. Turned out he was a Bug Chaser Incognito. So what did he do—but plant a big fat Kiss on my lips. When I saw him later, I plowed two more POZ Loads up his unmedicated Cunt. But the kicker came when I strolled through the Maze, and saw him fucking three Bottoms over an hour and a half—all bareback, of course. And what did I overhear him tell his last Fuck? "You know I'd never do this unless I was perfectly safe. I just got tested." Of course.

Dave and I had been together over a year. At 42 he is older than am I. He has gray eyes, and is gorgeous. He's also POZ. We both are now. I remember our first date. I grabbed his package. I wanted him to pierce my Hole. He brushed my hand away. "We have to talk." "Not now. " I answered. "I need your Cum." "Steve," he replied, "I'm POZ . I don't want to infect you." Back then I was still NEG. For the next 11 months we did Safe Sex. He'd suck me raw; we did our fucking with a Condom. He even insisted I use a Rubber when I sucked him. I hated that. I told him so. I'd always barebacked, ever since I was 15. He was the only one I ever did Safe Sex with—because I loved him. I hated that. I couldn't stand that Latex barrier between us, and his sweet Cum being trapped and flushed. I told him I fantasized about converting. I couldn't take it anymore. I decided things would change—or else. That night I begged Dave to fuck me. He started playing with my Ass. I told him what I wanted. "NO RUBBERS. I want YOU Dave. I want your DNA in me. I want to forge a bond between us. If we don't do it raw tonight, I don't know what the future holds for us." He responded by sticking his finger up my Ass and pressing hard. I was practically foaming at the mouth. Abruptly he stood up. "Once it happens, there's no going back. You will be POZ, and it'll change your life. Yeah, I've fantasized about breeding you; but those were crazy, insane notions. "I've bred Bottoms before, but not like you. You're different. They were Sluts. They deserved the BUG. I didn't give a shit about them. But you.…" "Face it, Davie. I 'm a Slut, too. The Baths were practically my home before I met you. Too bad I didn't get GIFTED then. If you left your Seed in all those guys, then you can do the same for me. I'm telling you, I can't go on like this." I glanced at his crotch. His turgid Dick tented poignantly against his jeans. He looked so conflicted. I reached out and undid his zipper. Suddenly liberated, his Rod sprang out. Dave started to speak, but I dropped to my knees and sucked his Cock without a Rubber. Fuck, it was so good! Our perspiration, the mix of man smells, and my own insidious craving drove me wild. All Dave could do was moan. I reveled in his dripping Jizm. Charged—did it taste different? Or was it me? Who cared? I was in heaven. I sucked him fast and furious. Dave began to thrust his hips. He held my cheeks and fucked my face. "Suck me, Queer!" he yelled. "Lube it for your Ass!" I led him to the bedroom and yanked off my clothes. He kicked off his and tossed them on the floor. Dave reached for a Rubber. "NO!" I said. "I can't fuck you raw, Stevie. I love you." "Then show me, please. Put your Cock in me and fill me with your Jizz. That's what I want. POZ ME!" I pleaded. He rubbed his Cock along my Crack. I felt him dripping. 'Fuck!' I thought. "At last he's gonna breed me!" I almost shot my Load right then. He spat on his Shaft, butted up against my Pussy, and pressed on in. He reached for his Poppers and took three big hits. He handed me the bottle. As I raised it to my nose, I felt his Cock pop in. He was in me. Raw—at last! After all the Dick I'd taken—always wondering if I'd convert. Another raw Cock, and no more wondering. I whiffed the Poppers. Apprehensively, Dave began to fuck me—slow and gentle. "I can't. We got to stop," he chanted, but kept up a steady pace. "Breed me Davie! Breed me like a Bitch. Make me your slave. Possess me. Give me your BUG! Please don't stop. Fuck my Hole! Give me your Jizm! POZ ME, please! Give me the GIFT!" Ambivalently Dave plowed my Hole at a steady pace. He stretched my Mancunt to the limit, and it began to hurt. If I asked him to lube my Ass, I might lose my chance. So I had to grin and bare it. 'Once I get POZ, we'll bareback ever after,' I comforted myself. Dave's breath grew labored as his Sack slammed against my Butt. "Give it to me, Davie. Breed my Ass!" Dave gulped and swallowed and huffed and puffed. "FUCK YOU, YOU SLUT! YOU WANT IT, DONCHA? YOU WANT MY GIFT? WELL, HERE IT IS—MY TOXIC SEED!" Then I felt it. My Ass flooded with his warmth. Finally! I've always been appreciative of Jizm--but that was special—the Bond that would unite us till death did us part. That was how I finally got POZZED. Dave spasmed many times, each ejaculation filling me with Cum. I shot and never touched myself. I stared at the Jizz soaking into the sheets beneath me. 'My last NEG Load,' I prophesied. A smirk crossed my face. I lay flat on the bed, my damp NEG Cum beneath my chest. Dave collapsed on top of me. He wept. "Oh God, Steve, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I lay still beneath him, my back against his chest. I didn't feel remorse. I felt triumphant, for he had finally sated me. As his Cock softened and slipped out, Poison Jizm dripped down my Nuts. ‘Finally,’ I thought. 'Conversion at last! Thanks, Lord!' I prayed. "Thank you," I said to Dave. "This is the day I've been waiting for." We fucked all weekend. Dave became a Dirty Sex Pig. HIV does that to some; others grow impotent. He told me he wanted to be sure it took. He wanted so bad to make me happy.

I headed out to the park earlier, and there were 15 guys or so cruising in the brush. I had a 3-way and sucked off several dudes. So overall it was a pozitive foray. I ran into a POZ Acquaintance I hadn't seen in years. He strikes his Tops as death warmed over, but is practically a God to those of us who celebrate the carnal pleasures for which he'd sacrificed his health. It was never his appearance that turned me on—but that fuckin' Cock of his. How many times had it been around the block? I wrapped my lips about it and finger-fucked his Shitter. Did I want to screw him? Bet I did. I took a whiff of Poppers and, by the time he got his pants down around his ankles, I was fuckin' hot to trot. It was fantastic fuckin' him—fantasizing about whatever new and wondrous STD he'd acquired for his Tops. As I slammed his Ass, a Tall Dude approached, pulled out his Dick, and fed it to POZ Man. As the Bottom chomped away on it, I brazenly invited the Suckee to sample the Sucker's Other End. Soon as I pulled out, the Stranger eagerly entrenched his Seven Inches deep up POZ Man's gut. In turn I lent the Dude my Poppers, lubed him up, and screwed his busy Ass. Needless to say, it was fabulous blasting my Seed up the Tall Man's Butt, while, simultaneously, he shot his Load in POZ Man's Cunt. After the Dude thanked us and took off, I dropped to my knees and quenched my thirst with Nectar of Toxic Spooge. Poz Man and I caught up on current events. He'd broken in a Virgin there the week before—a recent high school grad. The Punk went off with a big smile on his face and an Ass full of POZ Cum. We speculated how the Boy would react when he found out he'd been charged. Would he use his inheritance as God intended or psychologically succumb? Who knows? And, frankly, who gives a damn? I'd intended to go out again tonight, but I'm cuming down with something for the umpteenth time this year. I don't dig getting sick, but I'm resigned to it. Guess it's the price you pay for living on the edge; plus, if abstinence were the only viable alternative, I'd just as soon be dead.

Remember the duo, the Father and Son, both Gay? [think before following links] https://breeding.zone/topic/3273-conflicted-poz-father-breeds-his-son/ Last summer the Kid instant-messaged me that he'd been POZZED. After mumbling a few sympathetic expletives, I asked if he'd yet told his Dad. "No." I suggested he do so immediately. If he wanted, I'd drop by to smooth things over. He replied he was glad to have such a good friend, since many Gays, once they've fucked your Ass and sucked your Cum, want nothing more to do with you. "That's just not me," I lied through my teeth. I'd already screwed him several times, hoping to impregnate him. The only reason I bothered with the two of them was their unique relationship. To give himself time to spill the beans, he invited me over for lunch. When I got there, the atmosphere was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. His Dad had confessed he, too, was POZ. Daddy vowed to help Sonny get the best Meds their insurance would buy. The Kid seemed relieved, but still hadn't figured out it was good old Dad who'd bugged his Ass. While Dad was outside messin' with the grill, I was inside stirrin' up the pot. "Was Daddy POZ the last time he fucked you?" Suddenly it dawned on him. "Ohmygawd, it was Dad who POZZED me!" he spouted just as Dad came through the door. All this Oedipus stuff was gettin' to me. To lighten up a bit, I started rubbing Daddy's crotch. When we were both rock hard, I went down on him, pushing Junior down on mine. Things got hotter; and, to a chorus of a dozen "Oh, Yeah’s!” we stripped and tossed our garments helter-skelter. As I finger-fucked their red hot Asses, Daddy knelt to suck his Boy. I urged Junior to reciprocate. My reconciliation strategy was to get Sonny so aroused that any lingering resentment toward his Dad would be overcum by Liquid Lust. "Yeah, Junior, suck Daddy's Cock! Wisht I hadda Kid would wrap his lips around my Dick." While leaning over Junior to kiss Dad, I repeatedly brushed my Butthole over the Kid's hard Rod, and whispered in his ear, "I'd love for you to breed me, Baby, now that you got that special Gift to share." My brazen solicitation, coupled with the proximity of my Mancunt to the Faggot's Pole, got his attention real fast. He had the same conflicted look that Daddy had the night he POZZED his Son. Lacking an affirmative response, I set my sights on Good Old Dad. After breeding his own Kid, I figured I'd be child's play. I figured right. The next thing I knew he was poundin' his cigar-shaped Dick past my tight Ass Lips. Since I'd been toppin' the last few years, I figured it was gonna sting a bit. I leaned over, kissing Junior, and whispered in his ear, "Like watchin' Daddy fuck my Ass? You into sharin' the family jewels, too?" The Kid let it all hang out. It was kinda hard to conceal his Lust, since he had a raging eight-inch Boner. He was getting all horned up just watching Dad and me. The O.M. started panting and picked up the pace, relishing the silky feel of my slimey Ass Juices on his Shaft. "Yeah Daddy. Fuck my Ass! POZ my Butt!" He hollered and spasmed for the next five minutes. Junior was agog. As Dad collapsed back on the couch, I climbed atop the Youth. "Wanna finish the job your Daddy started? I want YOUR Load!" I pushed him back against a pillow and lowered my cum-drenched Mancunt on his Tool. "Feel Daddy's Seed in me?" With Daddy wrenching the Boy's Nips, the Kid gyrated frantically as I rode his cum-slimed Rod. "YEAH, KIDDO! GIMME A LOAD OF TOXIC JIZM. I NEED IT BAD!" I knew he couldn't hold off for long—fucking my tight Pussy already overflowing with Daddy's Spooge. I worked my Ass up and down his Candle Stick. It was too much for the little Faggot. At the same time he erupted inside me, I shot my Load all over my chest. Daddy licked it off and shared it with his Son in a long, deep, lingering kiss. Their reconciliation was complete. I thanked them both for breeding me and told them I'd get back to them. Dad gave me the biggest hug. "Welcome to family, Son." The Kid winked we'd get together soon. Wrong! I marked it on my calendar. Three months to the day I emailed them and misled them into believing I'd just tested POZ. At least there's one family in America knows what Family Values really mean.

Queer, isn't it, that both Father and Son are Gay? Queerer still is that the two of them have sex, and at least one of them is POZ. Daddy recently discovered he had the Bug—thought it happened on a business trip. He was taking it quite well, but hadn't told his family yet, and hadn't started Meds. Ideal candidate for a Stealth Pozzer or what? He told me about it while we were chatting after I'd fucked him with my new PA. He was hot for it, and it was my obligation to oblige. It's funny he opened up to me in more ways than one, but shut up abruptly when Son got home. I'd screwed Junior before—but never at their house. Junior recognized me immediately; and, after he got over the initial shock of seeing me with good old Dad, got a glint of Lust in those baby blues. To avoid putting Junior in harm's way, Dad had abstained from screwing him of late. Be that as it may, a guy has to look out for his interests; and I had an agenda for both Dad and Son. I got the Kid's attention by playing with myself and massaging his and Daddy's privates as we talked. It wasn't long before the Little Slut went down on me. Meanwhile I licked and fingered Daddy's Piss Slit to get him oozing once again. Pretty soon the stage was set. I moved behind the Boy and started rimming his sweet Ass while he sucked Daddy off. The Kid seemed as anxious to try out my new PA as Daddy had. I worked my Shaft in him and really started plowing his Ass—really pounding him—till telltale blotches of Blood and Shit began to polka dot my Cock. Reluctantly I turned my attention back to Daddy-O again. As I fucked Dad, I aimed his Turgid Rod at Sonny's silken Cheeks. Dad didn't buy into it at first, bucked back a lot, and almost overpowered me as I fought to keep him sandwiched between his progeny and me. Suddenly he let out a gasp; his resistance dropped to nil; and he was screwing Junior of his own volition and free will. I could tell the way his Ass Muscles clenched around my Dick, Daddy-O was getting close. To cinch the deal I whispered in his ear, "Yeah, Daddy, fuck that Ass! You know some Dude is bound to POZ his Butt. Better if it cums from you. Same Strain… same Meds.... Here’s your chance to help your Boy. Seems like you'd be savin' him a lot of grief if you were to POZ his Ass." You could see a Battle Royale in progress between Prudence and his Dick, but Fucking and gettin' Fucked simultaneously will tip the scales every time. His Ass Muscles spasmed violently as a tidal wave of Toxin spewed up the Boy's NEG Cunt. Falling victim to his own concupiscence, Daddy-O collapsed beside his Son. Maybe he was sated, but I hadn't had my fill. I rammed my Rod back in the Kid, grinding Daddy's Noxious Venom into Sonny Boy's Ass Walls—until I, too, contributed my Jizm to the Brew. Meanwhile the oblivious Young Man shot his NEG Spooge all over Dad and me. We lay together contemplating the enormity of what we'd done. While there is nothing better than breeding a NEG Cunt, converting a POZ Stud to a GIFT GIVER is a laudable pursuit. Just the possibility that Daddy may have POZZED his Faggot Son makes me want to shoot.

For reasons too obtuse to explain, I was a NEG on a quest for POZ Cum, so I was searching for a POZ Top who'd screw the hell out of me. Yeah, I was nervous about getting BRED, but remained resolute. I had almost despaired of finding Mr. Right, so I decided to try the Baths one more time. It was Sunday night, and the crowd had grown sparse. I strapped my key around my bicep, wrapped my towel about my waist, and headed out on the prowl. On my second pass I ran into a Dude, late forties, tats, with a large PA. I found him in the back room with a little Queen attached to his Cock. When it was my turn, I tongued his 7 inches and loved him from his Pits to his Toes. He invited me up to his room, "for privacy," so he said. I confided I was NEG and hated Condoms. He countered that, though he was POZ, his Viral Load was "under control," and he only fucked bare. I leaned forward to kiss him, forced my tongue down his throat, and almost gagged on the Bucket of Spit he passed back. That sealed the deal. I fell hook, line, and sinker in love with his Cock. As his PA pressed against my own rigid Tool, I knew I was closer to Nirvana than ever before. As he bent me over, I apprehensively I eyed his PA. He uncapped his Lube and wriggled three greasy fingers up my Mancunt. It didn't go easy, as he raked me over the coals, with all the brawn he could muster. As I felt his steel-tipped Rod grind his sweet, diseased Pre-Cum into my Pussy, I reached back and caressed his slimey Shaft; and my digits came away RED. His prurient onslaught culminated in a Butt Fucking Frenzy as his Balls pounded my Buttocks, his panting grew harsh, and his stale breath pelted the back of my neck. My Ass was on fire, and I watched BLOBS OF BUTT BLOOD smack the linoleum floor. He moaned he was cuming and spasmed in me. Is there such a thing as the numbing power of HIV? As his Gift of Death flooded my Innards, it doused the flame in my gut. I felt his Hot Jizm in powerful spurts spew Venom into my bod, and I shot my Load. His weight on my back, my NEG Spooge in my Pubes, and his POZ Jizz in my Pussy, combined to make me feel I'd cum home at last.

I had an interesting weekend. Friday night I hit the Baths. It was really pouring out, and there weren't many people there. I met up with this cute, twentyish Asian and sucked him through a Glory Hole. After a while, I stood up, turned about, and pressed my Butt against the Hole. That spreads your Ass Cheeks wide, leaving you vulnerable to whomever is on the other side, and that's exactly what I had in mind. He slid in, fucking me, until I heard the pay dirt phrase. "I'M CUMING!" "Cum on, then," I exhorted. "Give me your DIRTY CUM!" He grasped my hips and slammed into me as his whole body shuddered. When he pulled out, I asked, "Was that really DIRTY CUM?" He nodded and smiled and nodded again when I confirmed, "You're POZ?" Saturday afternoon when I was returning from the Laundromat. I passed by an infamous Gay park. I don't go there often, but I was in the mood; and I decided a visit to the Men's Room might relieve my Laundromat ennui. There were two guys there, one heavyset and dark, the other short and fair. I lowered my shorts and bared my Ass to signal my intentions. The short guy stepped into the stall and dropped his jeans. His Dick was long and thick. As the other guy looked on, I stole into the cubicle and locked the door behind us. With my back to my provocateur, I dropped my shorts, and offered him my Pussy. He seemed reluctant so I backed up on his Dickhead. Before long he was sliding in and out of me with glee. "Yeah, Man, shoot your DIRTY SEED!" My inference that it was OK with me if he were POZ appeared to flic his bic. He passionately plowed into me till he could hold back no longer. When he pulled out, my Mancunt was awash with Cum. I thanked him, inquiring point blank, "You POZ?" "You asked for DIRTY CUM," the guy replied as he dried his Dick with toilet paper. When I stepped out, Mr. Big lay waiting. He slid his Tool in my stretched-out Pussy. I'm sure he'd overheard us talking and was also a member of the Brotherhood. "Are you going to POZ my Ass?" I queried. "Oh yeah!" he grunted. "You Fuckin' Slut! Just the way you want it!" His face went slack, and he shuddered as he spewed his POZ Spunk in me. After they left, the two new Strains dripped copiously down my leg, demanding I perform one final ritual. I got my Butt Plug from the car, scooped the Bug back up my Pussy, trapped it there so it could fester, and sucked the remnants off my thumb.

Wednesday night I hooked up with a guy I met in a hot tub at a Bed and Breakfast. He was 29 with a youthful countenance and shocking red hair; and it was his birthday. We fooled around, and I licked his Balls and sucked him off. I could tell he was having a good time. He told me he was recently divorced, and that I was the first guy he'd ever been with. BOING! SIRENS RESOUNDED! LIGHTS FLASHED! "So you've never been fucked?" My aching Dick tormented me. I told him I'd love to be the one to pop his Cherry, and that I'd go slow and easy and be gentle [as a bull in a china shop]. We went up to my room, and I popped in a Bareback vid. While he watched, I had him lie on his stomach so he could get BRED. Try as I might, I couldn't get in. I broke open a new bottle of Poppers and practically rammed the whole thing up his schonz. I emptied a full tube of Vaseline in his Cunt. I desperately wanted to be the one to POZ him. Finally his greasy Pucker gave way, and I eased in. My Machiavellian side wanted to ram it home and put him out of his misery, but I knew he wouldn't tolerate that; so I stifled myself and played nice. S-L-O-W-L-Y, despite the Precum oozing out of my Dick Head, I worked my Death Stick up his Ass. How sweet it was! I could think of nothing but blasting a Load of POZ Cum up his unsuspecting NEG Hole. I wanted his first Fuck to be one he'd never forget. How considerate he'd had been not to ask about Condoms nor my Status. Too much on his mind, I suppose, though his current troubles were nothing like those that lie ahead. I'd have lied if I had to—there was that much at stake. It was much ado about nothing. Five minutes later I spurted Volleys of Poison Jizm up his Cunt. I doubt he suspected he was at a major juncture in life. I think our coupling was special for both of us. For him, I was his first; a new and exciting birthday gift. I, on the other hand, hoped I'd passed on the malignancy, the perniciousness of which would only become evident with the passage of time.

I tested POZ in April. My Lover and I went to the Clinic because we thought we had the Clap. Come to find out, my Lover had it; but I didn't. Nonetheless, they medicated both of us. I still think I had it, because it hurt to take a leak and nasty green shit was seepin' outta my Cock. We've both had it before, so we know what it's like. Two weeks later I got a call from the Clinic. They wanted me to come in again. Not surprisingly, I'd tested POZ, though my test results didn't show any Clap. I'd long suspected I had the BUG. I've barebacked for 10 years. One POZ guy told me I oughta get tested, but his advice went over my head. I travel for my job a lot; and I swear I've hit every bathhouse, bookstore, park, rest-and-truck-stop within 500 miles. I've spent entire weekends at the Baths and have taken 15 Loads a night. Sometimes my Lover won't touch me until I get prelubed with somebody’s Cum. So I wasn't surprised by my Status, although it did take me a few weeks to adjust. The goddamn ideologues at the Clinic caught me off guard. They coerced me into signing a statement that said I'd clue in my future cohorts in advance. They said I'd be committing a felony if I didn't. Bullshit! If I had it to do all over again, I'd tell ‘em to stuff it up their ass! That goddammed Counselor even demanded I reveal the names of all my sex partners for the last FIVE YEARS. I explained that in the Gay Scene, names are not a prerequisite. You just stick your Ass in the air and take what cums your way. When he found out I’d been married a decade ago, he made like he was gonna track her down and get her tested. Fine! Be my guest! Here in Arkansas, there was an article in the paper about a guy getting sentenced for intentionally infecting some Bitch with HIV; but I've never read about any man-to-man cases. That's cause here in the Bible Belt the Religious Right hope all of us Queers die of AIDS. I can assure them the feeling is mutual, to say the least. BTW, my Lover thinks my new Status is cool. We spent a weekend at the Midtown in Dallas. After taking six raw Cocks the first night, he plowed my Ass, which was lubed up with some real nasty Spooge. About 4:30 in the morning, he got it in his head he wanted to be fucked. He grabbed my Dick, jacked me a minute, then guided my POZ Dick up his Cunt. And the guy's normally tops! You better believe I made him beg for it before I bred his Ass. The moral of the story is: There's something in fuckin' Bug Juice induces a Fag to get fucked.

[DO NOT do this at home. It's rape, it's illegal, it's wrong...] Douglas was a walking, talking wet dream. He was 5-11, 160, had short brown hair, and the sexiest brown eyes you've ever seen. He was all toned muscle. No fat on that boy. His shoulders, chest, and abs were the envy of many dudes. He had been on the basketball, swimming, and wrestling teams all four years in high school, and had lettered in all three. He was every girl's dream date and more than one guy's fuck dream. Doug had no idea how sexy he was. He was completely naïve and oblivious. He had dated only a few girls and never had a serious relationship. He rarely went to parties, and, except for the communion wine, avoided alcohol. His Dad was the pastor of a large nondenominational church in Albuquerque; and ever since he could remember, Doug had wanted to follow him into the ministry. He was 19, and had just finished his freshman year at Liberty University, a Christian college in Virginia. On the long trek back to New Mexico, just this side of Amarillo, his Explorer started acting up. He pulled off the highway onto a deserted service road. Poor Doug had one other deficiency—he knew nothing about cars. He was staring vacuously at the steaming engine when a van pulled along side. Horny Chris stared at the Boy for a few moments. Doug was wearing a white tee and tight, faded Levis that highlighted his perfect Bubble Butt. Chris saw the bumper sticker: Liberty University. 'Mmmmmm. Oh my God! A good Christian boy!' Chris was somewhat of a Twink himself. He was 24, and about Doug's height and build, but had blonde hair. Oh, yeah, and Chris was opportunistic, unscrupulous, Gay and POZ. He'd been infected during a night of wild whoring at the Midtown Spa in Dallas, and felt duty bound to induct whomever into the Gay STD Hall of Shame. And he had a special weakness for pretty, young, religious boys like Doug. He glanced in the back of the Explorer and saw that it was filled with luggage. Looked like the Kid was headed home for the summer. "Car trouble?" Chris inquired. "Yeah," Doug acknowledged. "It's stallin' out and overheatin'. I tried to call the Triple-A, but my cell phone doesn't work out here." "Mind if I take a look?" "Sure," Doug said. "Help yourself." "Name's Chris," the newcomer introduced himself. "I'm Doug. Glad to meet you." Chris gave the engine a once-over. "Looks like your radiator fluid's low. It's overheated. You need to let her cool down a bit—then fill her up. I've got some water in the van." "Good," said Doug, reaching for the radiator cap. "No!" cried Chris, pulling Doug's arm back. "You could burn yourself! Give it time to cool down." Doug nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Thanks, but I don't want to inconvenience you." "I'm sure you'd do the same for me." A broad grin crossed Dougie's face. "So, you go to Liberty University?" "Yeah, you heard of it?" "My cousin went there a few years ago." The so-called cousin had flunked out. "I'm studying to be a minister. My dad has a church in Albuquerque." Doug was clearly excited about his calling, while Chris's mind was already in the gutter. "Wanna join me in the van while we're waitin? Cooler in there." "Love to!" the Boy agreed. Chris smiled at the Kid's enthusiasm and wondered if the Punk would still "love to" later on. He rummaged in the back and returned with a couple open Cokes. "Thanks," Doug said, gulping down the brew. "Oh man, that tastes good. I didn't realize how thirsty I was." He took one swig and then another. Within a minute the soft drink was gone. "Whoa!" Doug exclaimed. "I think I got too much sun out there. My head is spinning." "You all right?" Chris sounded concerned. "Wanna lie back? The seat reclines." "Yeah, thanks." Doug pressed a button that eased back the seat. His eyes were drooping, and his speech was slurred. He had no clue that Chris had spiked his Coke with GHB. "Hey man, you okay?" Chris sounded far away. Doug's head was swimming. He felt dizzy. His eyes were heavy, and he had no inclination to reply. "Here, let me help you into the back so you can lie down," Chris offered, dragging the drugged young man out of his seat. Overtaxed from all the dead weight, Chris positioned the insensate Youth on an air mattress with pillows to prop him up. He busied himself setting up a video cam while Douglas flaked in cuckoo land. With preparations well in hand, Chris turned to court the oblivious Young Man. He unzipped his fly and hauled out his 8 inches. "Hey, buddy, wanna protein shake?" He ran his Dick back and forth across Doug's handsome face and over his lips, leaving a trail of Precum glistening on his new Boyfriend’s face. "Nnnnnn... " Doug moaned, barely cognizant of what was up. Chris slipped his index finger in the Young Man’s mouth, prying his jaw open, and slid his fat, dripping Cock into the dazed Stud's mouth. With one hand on the back of Dougie's head, he began to fuck his Playmate's face. The Kid had no conception what was going down. Chris pulled his Dick from Dougie's throat, reached in his gym bag, and pulled out his Poppers. He held the bottle to the Youth's nose. "Come on," Chris coaxed. "Take a nice deep breath." The Teen inhaled, and his body shuddered. Bingo! Chris quickly switched the bottle to the other nostril and instructed Doug to sniff again. The high-as-a-kite Youngster did as he was told, and was soon floating on Cloud Nine. A low guttural moan escaped his lips. For good measure, Chris administered a couple more hits. Then he took his own half-empty can of Coke, and topped it off with whisky. He placed it to the Young Man's lips and made the young Teetotaler imbibe. Doug reflexively tried to spit it out, but Chris forced him to swallow. Having rarely consumed alcohol before, in congress with the Poppers and GHB, the Boy was totally fucked up. Chris shoved his Cock back down Dougie's throat, grabbed his ears, and began to fuck his face in earnest. When he felt his Balls begin to boil, he pulled out, jerked a few more times, and spewed his Noxious Load right onto Dougie's pretty face. Seven spurts hit Doug dead on. There was Jizz in his hair, his eyes, and on his lips and chin. Some dribbled down his tee. Chris scooped up some of the Toxic Spooge, and, with his nails, dug it into Dougie's inner cheeks and gums. "Be a good boy and take your medicine. Daddy wants so to give you AIDS." Chris slid Doug down till he lay prone and quickly re-aimed the video cam. He pulled off the Young Hunk's tee and marveled at the smooth chest, pointy Nips, and chiseled Abs. He leaned down and sucked and bit the manly Tits, nibbling at them real good. "Unhhhhh... Ooooohhh... Mmmmmm..." the inebriated Freshman moaned. Chris watched the Stud's Cock-Bulge balloon. "Oh yeah, I bet you're still a Virgin." Tweaking and twisting his Victim's Nips, he blew in his ear and licked his lobes. "Oooooh.......Noooooo...." Doug moaned, half conscious of the stimuli and how his body was responding. He may have been thinking no, but his tumescent Shaft sure as hell was nodding yes! Chris frenched him and kept up the titty torture. Within seconds Doug began to kiss him back. Oh yeah...a guy's a guy and a mouth's a mouth—Gay or Straight—it doesn't matter. Chris played tonsil-hockey with his Drugged-Up Play Thing a few more minutes. He traced his finger across the Student's lips, down to the waistband of his jeans. He tongued Doug's belly button and once again nibbled on those perky, pouty Nips. "Ahhhhhh!" Doug gasped, trying to push Chris away; but the besotted Youth was too far gone, and Chris had no trouble pinning him. He grabbed a rope from his gym bag, tied Doug's wrists above his head, then continued torturing the Cunt. He unbuttoned the Boy's jeans and slid the zipper down. Poor Dougie’s Cock was well-endowed but under-nourished, and the Kid's hard Rod jumped appreciatively as Chris slobbered on his Cock and Balls. Chris lifted Dougie's Ass and stripped his jeans completely off. Doug's legs were tanned and muscular, with a light smattering of hair. He fingered the Boy's quivering Pussy and felt it spasm beneath his touch. The Youth was totally at his mercy, his body screaming FUCK ME!—or so it seemed. With the video cam already catching every nuance of the Boy's enthrallment, Chris grabbed a digital camera and began to shoot pic after pic of the naked, aroused Nymph. Besides the carnal pleasure, Chris stood to make a few bucks off the Kid. He'd knew exactly which web sites to post the Teasers on. And the video—wow! He could make a mint off of that—once guys realized it wasn't fake. After taking several Polaroids specifically meant for DEO—Doug's Eyes Only (for Chris was fond of acronyms), he ran his hands over the dazed Teen's chiseled Bod, twisting his Nips and engulfing the Young Twink's out-of-control Joystick in the warm, wet recesses of his mouth and throat. Shit! The Kid's Precum was so saccharin and crystal clear. He couldn't wait to contaminate it with his own POZ Spooge. For on more than one occasion Chris had used the BUG to bond with another man, and Doug was just the latest to fall victim to his wiles. He placed Doug's legs on his broad shoulders and lifted his sweet, tight Target off the mattress. He slid his index finger up the Virgin Pussy and wiggled it against his Prostate. The Man Child began to buck and moan. He gave the Kid another hit of Poppers and another shot of booze. It was time to teach the Preacher's Son a lesson. Shucking off his own jeans and briefs, Chris lubed up his Dick with Jizm from the Christian's Cummy Face AND RAMMED IT UP THE VIRGIN'S ASS. Doug screamed in pain as Chris reamed his nigh unlubricated Chute. Chris fed the Youth more Poppers, which he readily accepted—perhaps because, subconsciously, he knew they helped. Chris continued to fuck Doug for the next half hour, grinding his own POZ SPOOGE into the Innocent's Ass Walls. The Kid got fucked till his abraded Sphincter was caked with Cum and Blood and Stools. In a single afternoon the straight-laced Christian Fundamentalist had been transformed into a wretched Faggot Cum Dump. The sun was setting, and Chris dragged the Youth, clad only in his birthday suit, over to his SUV, and dumped him in. He stashed two plastic gallon jugs beside the wheel well, along with an envelope containing a few choice Polaroids and a note warning that if he discussed their little affaire de coeur with anyone, he'd be the next Gay Poster Boy. Yeah—like Chris wasn't already intending to cash in; but he figured Doug would be so ashamed, he'd never tell a soul. Chris looked down at the somnolent, defiled Youth stretched across the bench seat of the SUV. It gets cool in the desert after dark, and the falling temp would wake the Young Man up for sure. He wondered, now that Doug had had his first exposure to Gay Sex, the only sex he'd ever known, if he'd cum back for more. And then there was the matter of his Special Seed. Had Chris succeeded in breeding the Boy? Alas, he'd never know. The fading roar of Chris's engine caused the inebriated Youth to stir. His eyes fluttered, blinded by the brilliant oranges of the setting desert sun. His head ached so bad. So did his Ass. He fell back asleep and dreamt erotic fantasies about some guy named Chris.

I headed to the rest stop about 11 pm. There were only a few cars in the lot; and, as I made my way down the sidewalk, I had an inkling the men's room would be deserted. I was right. I stood there jacking, hoping somebody would cum in; and after 20 minutes, someone did. He was a skinny, emaciated Dude, maybe late 40's, 5-10, graying hair, wearing an ill-fitting cowboy shirt and jeans which were obviously too large for his diminished frame. Yeah, the Dude was sleazy enough for my taste, even if he had seen better days. I moved over to the adjoining urinal and stared. As I perused his fat 7 inches, he grabbed me by the scuff of my neck and pushed me down. I opened wide to swallow his sleazy Rod. It reeked of sweat and piss. I didn't care, and I lubed my lips and chin with his slimey Drool. As I fell into cadence, I grew oblivious to our environs; and, judging from the moans emanating from the Dude, he felt the same. For the next few moments, we shared the deepest human bond. He pulled me up and demanded my Poppers bottle. He took a few deep hits and asked if I got fucked. I tried to conceal my enthusiasm so he wouldn't think I'm the Slut I really am. "Wanna rubber?" "Your call," I responded, noncommittally. Next thing I knew he was greasing my Hole with some unknown Lube and Spit. He pushed me over and rammed it home—so quickly I had to grab hold of the urinal to keep from stumbling. My hands struggled for purchase on the slick porcelain, my palms collecting pubic hairs and piss. Desperately I took to my Poppers, as his unanticipated aggressiveness, in tandem with his depth of penetration, sent shock waves through my bowel. Again and again he thrust in and out, and I suppressed a scream as I held on for dear life. At last he spasmed and gobs of Cum shot in me in a barrage I thought would never end. The Fucker must have been abstaining for a month, and I almost blew my wad contemplating all that scrumptious Baby Batter buggering my Butt. He pulled out and avowed how great it’d been and how he hoped I'd got my rocks off, too. I assured him I had. As he walked out I smiled to myself, acknowledging the reason I’d been so aroused was that I'd suspected he was POZ. I had planned to confront the Dude; but then I thought, 'Why spoil his fun?' He probably surmised he'd put one over on a NEG. But, for one, I wasn't the Innocent he'd presumed. And, secondly, there was some question about who'd screwed whom.

A few years ago my Lover and I were stricken with night fever, our code word for anonymous raw sex in back rooms, the baths, and movie houses. We both needed it bad, so we headed to the gay movie house. Since it was barely around the corner, we got there in minutes. As usual, we wished each other good luck and parted. The place reeked of Mancunt and Poppers. I took a seat to watch the flic. The two dudes on the screen were stripping, flesh-on-flesh, 69ing, fucking, shooting their Manjuice in each other’s mouths and guts. It was time to patrol the back room. I prowled the darkened corridors with years of blatant familiarity. I sat on a bench and unzipped my fly, unfettering my rock-hard Rod. A hand grabbed it. "OH, fuck me! Fuck me!" a voice moaned. Before I could answer, a Bubble Butt sat right down on my Cock. I hadn’t planned on fucking, hoping to get sucked; but by then I didn't care. Waves of pleasure careened down my Shaft. My Balls were just about to release their prize. Suddenly, Bubble Butt was gone. "Shit!" I cursed the darkness, tucking my aching Dick back in, and walked away, hoping maybe Tight Ass wanted me to follow. But he was nowhere to be seen. I sat back down and felt on either side of me. No one. A match flared. For a few seconds I glimpsed a few men across the aisle. A Black Guy caught my fancy and for an instant we made eye-contact. His match went out. I reached in my pocket and flicked my Bic. Someone sat down beside me. We both lit up. It was the Black Dude. "Follow me," he demanded. I pursued him into the john—a small Hell Hole where piss hadn’t properly flushed in years. We went into a small stall. I dropped my jeans, unburdening my throbbing Shaft. He dropped his pants and turned to face me. "OH MY GOD!" I cried out, staring at a rare 12-incher. It was the real McCoy. I dropped to my knees and sucked that swollen Dick. I ran my hungry tongue down his massive Undershaft to his mammoth Balls. I had to do each one independently. Both just wouldn't fit. I sucked that colossal Black Rod with well practiced precision. I wanted to enjoy that stupendous Manshaft every which way I could. I’d encountered only 4 or 5 that size in my lifetime. So I kept changing how and what I did, plying him with every trick in the book, anxious to drain that epic Ball Sac. I got him moaning, licked his Asshole, then went back to that gigantic Cock, gently nibbling the humungous Shaft as I went. As he slowly pumped the Monster Head in and out of my mouth, my right hand rubbed, squeezed and cupped his massive Nuts. My left hand pumped my own Meat. I didn't want either of us to come soon, but I couldn’t afford to let that one get away. Finally hot Jizm filled my mouth. Ropes and ropes of it. My left hand grew sticky with my own Cum. After his last squirt, he pulled out, disappointment all over his face. "You wanted to get fucked?" His Seed dripped down my hand. His face hung almost as low as his member. "Yeah, I’d hoped to." "I just couldn't help it." "Yeah, I know." His words spoke volumes. “Every time a guy gets a glimpse of my size, they never get around to fucking. “ “Just as well. I’m POZ.” "I’m a Bugchaser, man!” He zipped up his jeans and unlatched the door. “Wait!” I exclaimed, my mind whirling. I couldn’t let this rare bird get away. My BF would never forgive me. “My Lover’s here. He’s POZ and a Top. And he isn’t on Meds.” I took his hand and drew Daniel into the Lion’s Den.

I hit the baths Monday night and things were really dead. I counted a mere eight cars in the lot. I had the good fortune to find an old compadre lying in the Sling. He's POZ. In fact, he has full blown AIDS. What with the cost of Meds and the precariousness of his health, he only ventures out maybe once a month when he feels at his peak. He's extremely wasted and effeminate—a real mincing queen, but very gentle. I once observed him comfort a drunken boy who'd just been dumped by his Boyfriend. I watched as they embraced and he wiped his tears away. At that time I still didn't know his name, for all the years I'd seen him around. I guess that's true of many of my casual acquaintances. Most of the guys avoided him like the plague. They bitched and moaned about him almost to his face. Yet I never heard him rebuke any of those Screaming Queens. I know I wouldn't have been so kind. He climbed in the Sling—his Cock and lumpy Ass on display and up for grabs. I pictured myself kneeling down to lick his Hole, my Dick sliding in his Cunt. Yeah, I had a secret passion for the guy. How gladly would I have drunk his piss and eaten his shit to fuck his bony Ass. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. But not just yet. I didn't want an audience in case the guys freaked out (as I was pretty sure they would) and ostracized me as well a him. It was cowardice on my part, simply put. How I despised my wimpishness. I was drowning in my own timidity. Reluctantly acknowledging there was no white knight in shining armor cuming to ride his haggard Ass, he knotted his ragged towel about his meager waist and smiled at me and everyone as he pranced past. I decide to fraternize with the boys and listen to them bitch and moan about the dude. Cowed by my cravenness, I didn't say a word in his defense . Still I was beguiled by his she-male thing, the AIDS thing, the hole ball of wax. It made him seem so vulnerable and impotent—though impotent was hardly the proper term. But the character assassination never ceased, and it was not my part to remonstrate. Before checking out, I searched the Maze for him. He was lying on a leather bench. I wasn't sure if he were asleep or waiting for his paladin. I couldn't deny I admired the man. It took guts to cum here and put up with all the crap. I stopped and listened. I could hear the sibilant sing-song of his wizened nasal passages. Otherwise, it was deathly silent in the Maze. We were alone. What could it hurt? Why not? Despite the harangue, we were still two human beings in need. Before I knew it I was beside him on the bench. I ran my hand over his thin body, down his scrawny back, over his bony Ass, and onto his emaciated thighs and twiggy legs. His skin felt more infantile than masculine. In the darkened room. He squinted, "Hi." "I'm John." "I know. I'm James. I was getting vibes from you before." "Good or bad?" "The best." He drew up to kiss me. I pinned him down and frenched his teeth and gums—a warm, deep-throated, passionate exchange presaging things to cum. Our souls bared, our raw pent-up emotions boiled over. I went on auto pilot, as my years as a Top ensured. No, I was not ashamed I craved his disease-ridden, effeminate Gay Ass. We kissed. I tweaked his Nips. I sucked his spongy Dick till it grew tall and proud. I licked his hairy Balls, savoring even the random, cloying strays I extracted off my tongue. My hormones raged. I nudged him over so I could rim his Ass. I smelled the remnants of a recent bout of diarrhea and plunged on in. The Queer began to whimper which only served to whet my appetite. I rimmed him deeper, straining to please and compensate for all the undeserved ill-will. "I'd love to fuck you." "I'm full blown POZ." "I think I know what POZ is all about." It was then or never. "Might be better in my room. More privacy" I squeezed his knobby hand and pulled him to his feet. Fleetingly we kissed again before I led him up the stairs and down the hall, past the TV Room where the guys were prone to congregate. But, like I say, it was a quiet Monday night, and the TV set was off. No witness saw us traverse the halls, which was just as well—for I wasn't yet prepared to deal with the ostracism about to come my way. The vicious catcalls already reverberated in my ears. You that hard up? You have to fuck that Sicko Queen? I never once released his hand. It was like I was emboldened by his unassuming feminine mystique. I felt the certitude of one who's finally met his match, the paramour who was destined to become my live-in mate for the few years we had left.

I got POZZED at the ripe old age of 21. I’d just graduated from college and started my first real job. I spent my first couple of paychecks replenishing my tattered rags. On weekends, my friends and I went to the clubs. One rainy Saturday, the crowd was kind of sparse. That was unusual for a weekend night, but it was dead everywhere so we just hung out. We suffered through the usual favorites and a few requests and mostly just stood around looking cool. I actually saw Derek's Dick before I saw Derek. Both he and it were beautiful. I had gone to the john to drain the last couple of beers and was standing at the urinal when a tall guy came in. I couldn’t help notice the thick stream that flew past my eye. I sneaked a peak and couldn’t believe my eyes. That Dick had to be at least 7” by 1-1/2. It looked like your typical erection—but wasn't even hard. I watched him shake it as he pissed, as though he were aiming at the holes. When I realized I was getting hard, I tried nonchalantly to zip up. I sneaked one last peak as I stepped away. He stared at me with a narcissistic grin while continuing to jiggle that big Dick of his. Finally he stepped back and, with a cynical grin, shrugged, and walked out. I wanted that man. I followed him out the door but lost him crossing the dance floor. I found him again posing god-like at the back of the club. He was talking to a couple of guys, but noticed me approach. I decided I shouldn’t be so obvious, reigned in my hormones, and rejoined my friends. But the image of that beautiful Dick had burnt in my brain, and I could think of little else while my Pals prattled on ‘bout this and that. An hour later I literally ran into him again. I muttered apologies as I blushed. He found our near collision humorous, and instead of walking off, introduced himself. He seemed intelligent, thoughtful, and considerate. He spoke in short crisp sentences, pausing carefully before each word. He’d talk, then stop, and wait for my reaction. He had a strange sense of humor, on the sarcastic side. He studied me so intensely I felt his eyes burn through my clothes. The guy turned me on. I checked out his crotch to see if I was affecting him the way he’d impacted me; but any tenting was obscured by his thick cords. He asked if I’d like to smoke a joint. Impulsively I invited him to my place, but he wanted it right then. So I followed him outside, across the street, and down an alley. Standing in a small, filthy alcove, he pressed against me. Our lips touched. We passed the roach back and forth till Derek ground it into the grunge. He turned to the wall, unzipped his fly and let loose a stream. When the jet subsided he didn't tuck it in, but turned towards me. “Suck it!” I bent over, but he told me to get on my knees. I protested that I was wearing my new duds and the ground was wet. He gave me that same evil smirk and zipped up. I pleaded, but he insisted that I’d have to kneel for it. I threw in the sponge, knelt, and sucked his Cock. After that humiliation, I wanted desperately to get him in my sway. He was pretty hard; but thick as he was, that only made things worse. I found myself suppressing a gag, and my fleeting chance at domination slipped away. After 10 minutes, he pulled off. At first I thought he was going to cum, but he zipped up and headed back toward the street. Perplexed, I got off my knees, glanced at my soiled pants, and hightailed it after him. “Did I do something wrong?” “It’s time to fuck your Ass.” I was living at the time in a two-bedroom with an old Fag named Marty (Martha) who worked nights as a Security Guard. Martha had a huge assemblage of women’s clothes and cross-dressed on her days off. Derek followed me into the lobby. He cornered me in the elevator practically tearing off my shirt. He drove me wild. I fumbled with my key trying to unlock the door with Derek on my Ass. Once inside, he didn't waste any time. I had just hung up my jacket when he demanded I disrobe. I debated whether I should or not. He started to rub his crotch. I could see his hard-on, and that settled that. I stripped down to my underwear and followed him to the living room where he’d planted himself on the couch. I offered him a beer, and he pulled me beside him as I passed him the can. In minutes we were tangled in a passionate embrace. Desperately I tried to undress the dude. He let me get his pants undone and I had to settle for his Shaft. While I slobbered away, he worked his hand inside my briefs and began to finger-fuck my Cunt. Derek stood up, his engorged Rod pointing toward the bedroom door. He was still fully clothed; and, as we walked past the bath, he mumbled about taking a leak. I didn’t have long to wait. He came out nude. He had a tremendous bod—smooth, bronze tan, washboard stomach, great legs, an overall lean, mean physique. And, of course, there was that piece of Prime Meat. I felt so vulnerable, a mere 5’8” 135, in my meager speedo—and with good cause. Once on the bed he straddled me. We rolled around. He pulled off my speedo, flinging it across the room. He licked my ears. That drove me wild. He worked his tongue down past my Dick and sucked my Balls into his mouth. “Like to get rimmed?” Before I could answer (“Why, yes, of course!”) he flipped me over and had me spread my legs. When I felt his tongue, I lost it all. Derek was an animal. It felt like he was trying to stick his whole tongue up my Ass. The stubble of his beard against the my Ass Crack drove me insane. When he finally relented, it was to ask for Lube. Meekly I pointed to the bed stand. He found what he needed and took his good old time lubing up my Ass. “Got a Condom?” he asked perfunctorily. I didn’t want to spoil our fun. “All out,” I lied—a whole box of them right there on the headboard in plain sight. “Sit on my Dick!” I wanted him so bad. Derek was the thickest thing that had ever been up my Butt, and he was incredible. He kissed me wildly, probing my mouth and ears and neck. I tried to ride his Dick, but it was awkward—bent over as we kissed. He flipped me over on my back, pulling my legs over his shoulders. Again he asked if I wanted to bareback. I figured he needed to hear me to say it over and over again. So there I was, this skinny 21 year old neophyte, erect, stark naked, on my bed, my knees pressed to my chest, getting barebacked by this strange hot Hunk with an attitude and one slick Dick. Needless to say, Derek fucked the shit out of me. Any semblance of gentleness went out the window as he power-fucked my Ass. Problem was, the lube dried up; and it began to hurt. Don’t get me wrong. With his muscular arms pinning my knees and his hands locked behind my head, he was the best fuck of my life. I swear I came three times before he shot. We lay there tethered by my NEG Cum with his sweet thick Shaft slowly softening up my Ass. He pulled out to take a piss. I was exhausted and pulled the bed sheet over me. I may have dozed, cause the next thing I heard was the front door latch. “Shit! Martha’s home.” I slipped on my robe, prepared for awkwardness. Only it wasn’t Martha. I stopped and listened. “Derek?” Apprehensively I traipsed to the john to see if anything was gone. Scribbled jaggedly across the mirror in Marty’s lipstick were three little letters and one big word: POZ! For the umpteenth time that night Derek came out on top.

Damn AIDS was giving me night sweats, so I got up, took a shower, and went for a stroll in the park. I figured it might be deserted since it was a weeknight. To my surprise a hot Latino Twink I'd seen tricking downtown was there in his short jogging shorts. I'd often wondered what male prostitutes did for recreation, and the answer is what they do best. I had no doubt the Kid was looking for action, along with whatever scratch he could finesse, though he got nothing from me other than a couple of POZ Loads and possibly a new STD. It was about 1 A.M. and there were just the two of us there. He pursued me into a copse. I stopped just out of sight of the drive so I could keep an eye out for the cops. After the usual touchy-feely and a few minutes of sucking, he turned and bent over. With his little brown Pussy almost touching my Dick Head, it was as blatant an invitation as I've ever received. He took a hit of his Poppers, and I slid my Cock up his Cunt—one teensy push and I was in up to the Balls. Remember how this Kid earned a living, so to begin with he was pretty stretched out. Bottom line was I ended up breeding his slack little Shitter while he zonked-out on Poppers. Before I left I let him spooge down my throat. He had been so sweet and accommodating and the price had been right—so I invited him over to my place to spend the night. He declined, saying he had to get home or his Pimp might accuse him of cheating. As he walked off into the shadows, I had second thoughts about withholding my Status, but concluded that, in his professional life, he'd taken as many POZ Loads as I had in my amateur one. Besides, I figured he might prefer not to know. Be bad for business if word got out he'd been bred.

Don, a truck driver Fuck Bud, cums to town 3 or 4 times a year. He's in his mid-50s, about 6'1" maybe 160, with a wasted AIDS look that makes my Ass quiver. Although I'm a Top, I always take his Loads cause he's such a nasty Fucker. He's not on Meds and has a Viral Load over a hundred thousand. His Strain recharges my Death Seed and my psyche. When I went to his motel last Sunday, he had a hot Muscle Jock stark naked asleep on the bed. I recognized the Kid as a Gym Bunny in his early 20's who worked out daily at the Spa. Don had hooked up with him through Gay.Com. The Bunny's profile said he was NEG and ONLY played safe. "NOT ANYMORE," Don said with an nasty grin. Gym Boy had overdone the booze and pot, got sleepy, and passed out. My Bud had already dumped one Load of Toxic Cum up his Pussy, and I could see Bug Juice glistening in his Ass Crack. I felched out some of that Baby Batter, used the rest to lube up my Death Stick, and rammed it up the Young Man's Cunt. The Twink stirred briefly, feebly tried to pull away, but I easily pinned him to the bed and worked the AIDS BUG up his Rectum. Don gave the Kid an enormous hit of Poppers, and the Fucker just moaned and gripped the mattress for dear life. It was so fucking sweet breeding that Pretty Boy, knowing he'd pass it on to many of his Twink Cohorts. I flooded his guts with rope after rope of POZ Spooge. I wanted to eat it, freshly-spewed, out of his Pussy; but his Mancunt was so lush and inviting, I couldn't help but shoot another Load. Exhausted I collapsed on top of him, and Don straddled the two of us and rammed his POZ Shaft up my Shitter. I wanted to cum in the insensate Youth at the same time Don spewed up my Pussy; and, like clockwork, I spasmed just as my Bud shot. The Punk drifted in an out of consciousness. Don and I swapped POZ Loads with each other, and gave Muscle Jock another tumble. Don said he had Pals cuming over to give the Youth other Strains. I don't know how many Loads the Fucker took that afternoon, and worried that the little Shit might accuse ME of participating in the assault. But no sweat. The Fuck Session must have been too much for the Muscle Jock. He hasn’t been around since.

Last Saturday night I was chatting with this pretty 18 year old. He was sitting wide-eyed on a bench outside the showers, ogling the guys strutting their stuff. I sat down beside him and said, "Hi." It was his first time at the Baths, and he was nervous. He found the atmosphere intimidating and was scared to death of "catching something." He wanted sex (at least he said he did); but all the guys were too old or fat or withered or diseased. And he was shocked by all the "unsafe sex." Several guys walked by clutching little vials, and he asked me what Poppers did for them. He'd never tried them. "They're no big deal, really. They just relax you and make you feel more sociable." "Got any?" "In my locker. Be right back." But they weren't in my locker. I had 'em stuffed in the waist folds of my towel all along. I just needed an excuse to find my bud. Adam was sitting in the TV Room. He'd already noticed the cute thing I was with, as had everybody in the Club by then. "Gonna fuck him?" "He's pretty green. It's his first trip here, and he's scared to death. I need your help. You get first dibs." I told him we'd meet him in the Maze, then hurried back to the Kid. He was relieved to see me round the corner as some "Sleazy Old Trolls" had put the make on him. I handed him the bottle and told him to take a little sniff to see how they affected him. He did so, maybe for a moment longer than I would have recommended, then moaned that he felt "nice and hot." "Now there's the understatement of the year!" I asked him if he’d like to take a tour; and he said, "Yes." Upon spotting the "Sleazy Old Troll" who'd groped his Ass, he kept close on my tail. Once again he asked to borrow my Poppers. I told him to hang onto them. I had a feeling the Kid would need them a helluva lot more than I before the night was through. "Geez, thanks." He took a deep whiff and turned red. "They sure work wonders. Lemme know when you want 'em back." We entered the Maze and stood just inside the door, back lit only by a dim red light. The moaning emanating from the dark passages beyond was supplanted by the slap of flesh on flesh. Unnerved, the Youth uncapped the bottle and took another whiff. That's when Adam slipped behind him, and I stepped back into the shadows. The Kid sniffed from the bottle while Adam worked his Ass. I don't know what sweet-nothings my bud whispered in his ear, but they took off for Adam's room. As I waited for the outcome of their little tryst, I entered the bowels of the Maze in search of LOVE. An unlubed finger snaked up my Butt. Annoyed, I turned to confront my uncouth suitor, and discovered it was Alan. He led me to his room. The Kid was lying on his stomach. "Why's he sleeping?" "Well, he wanted to try something a little stronger than Poppers; and all I had was GHB." "Great! We can't leave him here like this!" But Adam is one of those imperturbable buggers whom nothing fazes. Between the two of us, we dragged the Kid back to the Maze and strapped him in the leather Sling. The Kid looked so angelic, his legs in stirrups high above his head, his glistening Mancunt soft and beckoning. I guess Adam couldn't help himself. After depositing a 2nd POZ LOAD up the Boy's Mancunt, he took off, leaving me alone with Poisoned Beauty. I reached down, dug my finger in his Pussy, and came away with a digit drenched in Spooge. I marveled at how salty. Adam's Seed is always salty. "AH, POZ CUM!" I sighed dramatically, recollecting the day two years before when Adam confided he was POZ. I'd always suspected I'd been the one who bred his Ass, but never breathed a word of it to anyone. I glanced down at Sleeping Beauty. Such a sweet Pussy! We were alone. He'd never be more fuckable. I shuddered as the 3rd POZ LOAD of the evening spurted up the Young Man's Ass. I headed for the showers to join my Bud, then to his room for a catnap. 2 A.M! Time to check on our Progeny. There was a lot of traffic in the Maze. One of the fabled "Old Trolls" stopped me excited. "Fuck! You should see what's going on." Still secured in the Sling was our Sacrificial Lamb. As I nudged my way amongst the damp towels, I realized what I'd first perceived as a mulling muck of Cocks and Balls was actually an orderly queue of Bareback Tops intent on breeding the Young Twink. "What's with the Kid?" I asked the Dude up next to dip his wick. "A PNP Boy who's overdosed," came his educated guess. "Then how cum he's strapped in like that?" "Must be a Cum Addict as well. Look. Do me a favor. Save my place. I'll be right back. I gotta piss." "No, wait. I know that Kid. He's into Watersports. Piss down his throat, then fuck his Ass." Word spread like wildfire. And so it was that one Top after another, the old, the infirm, the obese, and the diseased, joined ranks to fill both the Youngster's Holes with Piss and Cum. I saw the Kid take five dirty Loads at least. Of course he had it cuming. Justice rendered is justice deserved. They hadda take the Kid down a notch. The Punk was simply too goody two-shoes. I watched a pair of "Old Trolls," with purple KS lesions dotting their bodies, shoot up the Young Man's Butt. He was sure gonna be sore in the morning—not to mention the AIDS VIRUS which would make his life a Living Hell. I had to smile.

I had been barebacking for years and never asked guys their status. While I was never an overt chaser, the idea of taking POZ Cum turned me on. I loved reading Conversion Stories. Today I write ‘em. I suppose I wanted to get bred all along. In the late fall I connected with a guy from Gay.Com. He was a real Bareback Pig.! We'd both stopped using Condoms, gloves, and other Safe Sex paraphernalia. When he fingered my Pussy, I asked him to fuck me. He said he'd have to pull out cause he didn't want to cum up my Ass. I asked him why not; and he said that he was POZ, and I was still NEG. I almost flipped! Never before had I known in advance that the guy about to fuck me was POZ. That was a first! In essence I got down on my knees and begged him for his Cum! He got this shit eatin' grin on his face. "Let's see if I got this straight. You WANNA get POZZED ?" "FUCK, YEAH! GIVE IT TO ME!" He started to screw me like there was no tomorrow, ranting about the Bad Seed he was about to plant up my Butt; that there could be no turning back; and that, from that day forth, all my partners would be at risk. I got rock hard. He told me he was gonna shoot. We both came—he up my Ass—and I, all over my chest—probably the most prolific Load of my life. He stayed the night. I took a couple more Loads and gave him two back. I fisted him for over an hour. After that we talked of the BUG till the morning sun shone blood red on our Dicks. He made me promise to call him if and when I got "the Flu." Nine days later I woke up sick as a dog and soaking wet. I called him and told him I didn't feel so good. He stressed how awesome it would be if I hit the Baths—while my immune system was depressed and my Viral Load was outta sight. THOUGH I FELT LIKE SHIT, I dragged my Butt down to the Tubs. I ended up taking five Loads up the Ass and two down my throat. But there was a price to pay for my contagious escapade—I almost had to crawl home to bed where I stayed put for a week. It was spring before I finally got tested. I don't know why I postponed it so long. The Baths were offering free HIV testing, and I availed myself. Two weeks later I called and gave my code-number to the little Fairy on the other end of the line. He hemmed and hawed, and ended up making me an appointment with a Counselor. She turned out to be a loquacious old spinster, who commiserated with me for half an hour before pronouncing me POZ. I could barely keep a straight face. That night I had dinner with my NEG ex-Lover. As usual, I fucked his Ass. So far I have 5 confirmed Conversions to my credit, the first being the aforementioned ex-Lover, and the latest, a neat little drama student down the hall.

One of the precepts of social protocol at the Baths is that it’s best NOT ask about Status. Yes, you may be asked to put on a Condom, but rarely will you be asked if you're POZ or NEG. It's generally assumed, erroneously so, that POZ guys will either seek out other POZ guys or do without. Case in point: I invited two hot Latino Boys to my room. They were Lovers, and had never done a three-way before. We started off sixty-nining, and the older one whispered that he'd love to see me fuck his BF. The BF in question was maybe five years younger, early twenties, slender, and really cute. I was all about tagging his Ass, so I mounted the Cunt. Just as I was about to slide in, he said, "Wait! Put on a Condom!" I tried to hide my vexation, and thought I could start with a Condom and slip it off later. But once I had the Rubber in place, the Kid changed his mind, and wouldn't let me fuck him at all. Frustrated, I made myself clear. "OK. I'm gonna to lie back and close my eyes. Either one of you climbs on my Dick, or there’s the door." The Older One eased his Cunt down on my rubber-coated Shaft. Though the Latex cut the sensation, he made a valiant effort, rocking back and forth on my Rod, as his nervous Lover looked on. While the Kid was distracted unscrewing his Poppers, the Boyfriend slipped off the Condom and pressed it into my palm. NOW THAT WAS MORE LIKE IT! I could feel his slimey Pussy milkin' my Death Stick. He whispered in my ear, "Bareback is Better!" and he didn’t know how right he was. We switched positions so that I was on Top fucking him Doggy style, and he leaned forward and whispered to his young Paramour that it was cool cause we were doing safe sex. The Youngster was getting fucked up on his Poppers, so he was slow to react when I pulled out of his Lover and plunged into him. Between his high from the Poppers and the exhortations of his Lover, he was more amenable to getting fucked than before. He made a few futile attempts to see if I was still sheathed; but his quick-witted Lover arrested his hand, assuring him I was okay. It didn't take long for the older Dude to shoot all over us, and my own Balls were tingling. I didn't let on as I began to spasm and spurt, so the Youth didn't have a clue I was breeding his Ass. To top it all off, I made a great show of toying with the discarded Rubber, like I was rolling it off. As they left, the Senior blew me a kiss. In response I ran my hand over his departing Butt. My lone regret was that I had only one LOAD to share between the two of them, and I hadn't bred the Elder, too.

It was the late 90's. I was 35; married; 3 kids; a good boy, always trying to please; more (or less) faithful to my wife, to whom I'd been married for 15 years; providing my family with a steady income from my run-of-the-mill accounting job. And I hated it. Still I was reluctant to give in to my homosexuality, regarding it as a blemish on my character. But my hormones often got the best of me, and I ended up at the bars and baths—rarely—but with increasing frequency. I developed an affinity for blowjobs, which progressed to getting laid. I was always the passive one, the Bottom. Back in those days, to my detriment, I played it safe and hardly ever fucked without a Condom. After each tryst, I felt guilty and ashamed, but on each occasion less and less. And I kept fucking my wife bare. Just when I didn't want to go on with such duplicity, becoming more and more conflicted everyday—just when I was seriously considering leaving wife and kids—salvation came in the form of a new job, offering 200 travel days a year. With a generous expense account and a salary I'd heretofore only dreamt about, I jumped at the opportunity. Ironically, I kept our family together by keeping us apart. I became very creative at seeking out the most popular Gay haunts—the leather bars, bath houses, tearooms, rest stops, parks, adult theaters, and bookstores. I left no stone unturned. I grew comfortable in my new role as a kinky, if somewhat masochistic Bottom, a sometime Slave, but always the Slut. During my trips home, I played the role of loving husband fucking his wife, while cuming to reveries of Male Cunt. Sucking, felching, rimming, along with the ubiquitous Poppers became my daily regimen. I got fucked more and more. I developed tastes for spit, watersports, armpits, feet, and B&D and S&M. I loved Gay Sex and invited guys to my hotel rooms all hours of the day and night. Still I couldn't get enough. I started fucking bare on the proviso that they pull out. Of course there were the inevitable accidents. I knew I took a risk since I always bled when I got fucked. I wasn't yet amenable to taking Cum up the Ass, but more and more that turned me on. It also turned me on fucking my wife, sharing the risk, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, as I pumped my NEG Gay Sperm up her straight Pussy. I'd hinted at an occasional Gay rendezvous, but never breathed a word about bareback sex. Gradually my guilt and reluctance dissipated as I sacrificed quality for quantity. I no longer had to strive to be a Cum Pig; I HAD BECOME ONE. I felt powerful and bad. I manipulated the Tops who thought they were manipulating me—into barebacking—in hopes that one or both of us would be inseminated with the Blessed Seed. And I continued to fuck my wife—with my Fist and up her Ass. How she raved about our new "open" relationship—the little Fool—my meal ticket to the family values so treasured by the outside world. I never told her how I'd cum to worship unsafe sex. The turning point came when I got invited to a party in L.A. I emailed the host and asked if barebacking were permissible. He wrote back that he and several buds actually preferred it that way. Sometimes they had special little get-togethers for barebackers, and there was one such Friday night. He never actually said the words “Conversion Party.” I told him I was a relative newbie to group sex. "On the contrary, I think you'll fit right in. Be here at eight, and we'll talk it over." Marky seemed an all right kind of guy—not pushy, just hospitable. He assured me I'd enjoy myself. And no one would force me do to anything I didn’t want. That sounded great. "But Marky, are your buddies NEG?" "Who really knows his status, Sport? Just get here early, and we'll talk." On my drive down to L.A, I thought a lot about getting POZZED. There seemed to be distinct advantages—no longer having to worry about the Bug was the biggie that came to mind. And the disadvantages were too morbid to contemplate. Maybe POZ was not nearly as NEG as it was made out to be. It was a little after eight when I rang the bell. I was stressed from the long drive, and Marky noticed it. "Have a cola, and let's share a joint. Help you unwind. I got some other stuff. Ecstasy, GHB, Coke. Just ask.” I took a few tokes, and he suggested I clean up. I told him I didn't do drugs, but I’d love to douche. He flashed me a quick smile. "Trust me. Chems have their place. They just make it a little easier to accept ourselves." Afterwards we shared another joint. We were looking at the profiles of his bareback friends as he chatted online. Marky whispered in my ear about how beautiful I was, how I deserved the Gift, and other bullshit, and gave me another cola. Foggy as I was, I didn’t think a thing of it. He told me he hosted a party every month or so. He usually invited 15 or 20 guys. Five or six regulars always showed up; the rest, depending. "I start inviting guys around 6 PM, by phone and on the Net. The party starts at 10. The guys who can make it pop in anytime between then and 6 AM. I'll try to get hold of my friend, Nigel. He lives right down the block," Marky smirked, massaging the PreCum pooling on my piss slit all over my dick head. I felt so warm and comfy. I lay on the mattress besides the computer, jacking off, watching two studs go at it on TV. The music was growing deafening; the room lights seemed to dim; and, overall, I felt quite pleasant and relaxed. On hands and knees I crawled over to Marky and sucked his dick. He none too kindly rammed it down my throat. "Horny Pig! Must be the GHB. You're feeling it." "But I didn't want to do drugs!" I protested, thinking of the next drug test. Actually, I felt downright evil, hot, and sexy. I often have a problem with the gag reflex. But that night, no problemo at all. I wanted him down my throat, but he pushed me away. "Not yet, Cunt! I know you want it, but not nearly bad enough. Time for a pill, an XTC. The GHB got you horny, but you're way too laid-back. Take this, and you'll be fuck meat for the guys when they arrive." As I popped it down my throat I exploded. "I WANT TO BE RAPED, DAMN IT!" Marky gave me a devilish grin. "Give it to me, please!" The doorbell rang. There was a commotion in the hall, followed by silence. Marky told me Nigel had gone to take a shower, and it was time for us to play. He knelt down to rim me and kissed me as he entered me. "My God, Your bare cock feels so good in me!" He gave me a joint and then his poppers. The drugs, combined with my predilection, had rendered me a total Slut. I wanted him to cum in me. But once again Marky spurned my advances and pulled out. He told me to turn around. I hadn't heard Nigel enter the room. I was astonished. He must have been 6’, had the deepest, darkest eyes I’d ever seen, the widest mouth, beautiful muscles, with an incredible 8 inches topped by a massive PA. He was perfection personified! I crawled over to him. He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up. He was like a faucet forcing spittle down my throat. He commanded me to suck his Dick. I took a lengthy hit of poppers as he ground that huge tool down my throat. Was I imagining things or did intense Gregorian music fill the room as Marky massaged something up my butt? "Just a little aid to relax your pussy." But it didn't feel good at all. My butt was on fire! "What the hell..." I started to protest, but was silenced in astonishment as Nigel ordered Marky to work a butt plug up my ass—in tandem with his uncut Cock. Nigel was pissing down my throat, while Marky twisted the latex dildo in beside his dick. "YEAH, BOY! WE'RE GONNA IMPREGNATE YOU!" Show him the Dildo, Marky." It was slimey and BLOOD RED. "He's ready now, Marky. Cream away." Marky gave me another sniff, but it wasn't poppers. "Coke!" Marky grinned. "Like the stuff up your ass. You'll be a better fuck for it." Marky plowed my bleeding butt while I sucked Nigel's mammoth cock. He pissed again. "Yeah, fuckin' pig! Swallow my sick piss, you filthy slut!" Needless to say, I was preoccupied when Marky shot his cum in me. With the pervasive music, the twirling lights, Marky's tongue in my ear, his POZ Spooge dripping off my hairy Balls, and Nigel's massive rock hard rod fucking my face—I imploded from sensual overload. I started to cry. Marky spoke in singsongy, condescending voice. "Your first big test, boy; and you passed it well. Let's take a break." "NO BREAK!" I screamed. "I WANT IT NOW! I WANT NIGEL TO RAPE MY ASS!" Nigel took my face between his hands, looking deep into my teary eyes. "BEG FOR IT, SLUT! BEG FOR MY AIDS CUM!" I didn't even hesitate. I searched his deep black eyes. "IF THE DEVIL EXISTS, NIGEL, YOU'RE IT. Just give me what you got. No ifs, ands or butts." "You sure, slut? Once we start, there's no turning back. I always finish what I start. So be sure. Be very, very sure." "I'm sure," but suddenly I was scared. The drugs were wearing off. It was still early—9 PM. I could make a break for it. As I watched Marky and Nigel prepare the sling, I plotted my escape. I pulled on my trousers, grabbed my tee, and made a mad dash for the door. The doorbell rang. Shit! Nigel turned and saw me. He tackled me, inadvertently bloodying my nose, and dragged me to the sling. My fate was sealed. I'd met my match. There’d be no escaping now. To add insult to injury, I had rug burns on my knees, and puked all over my bare chest. Dressed in black leather, an Asian twink named Tuan came, in, took in the scene, and helped bind my feet and hands and clean me up. Marky prepared another cola, adding a vial of GHB. He also forced me to swallow another XTC tablet down my throat. It was either swallow it or choke. Tuan took a sniff of coke, then sprinkled some on my soiled, bloodied handkerchief and held it tightly to my lips while Marky pinched my nose. As you might expect, Nigel plunged his enormous pierced black cock up my ass, Marky's cum the only lube. I felt his P.A. searing me. While Marky kissed me, Tuan sucked my cock. I came as Nigel exploded up my Ass. Marky felched me and we kissed—our lips a crimson kaleidoscope of cum, piss and blood. After that Tuan took his turn and dumped yet another POZ LOAD up my ass. The rest was almost anticlimactic. It was 10 PM. The party had barely begun, and already I'd been bred. More guys came in. I was only half awake. I don't know how many loads I took, but one thing was for sure: I got POZZED that night. Four weeks later I was laid up with the fuck flu. Feverish though I was, my joints protesting every move, I screwed my "shield of respectability," while fantasizing about shit holes and mancunt.