Hotanthony

The neon lights of the city blurred past the grimy windows of Big Joe's taxi as he cruised the late-night streets. At 400 pounds, Joe dominated the driver's seat, his massive hairy frame spilling over the edges, sweat staining his threadbare shirt. His gut hung heavy over his belt, and thick black hair covered his arms, chest, and legs like a wild pelt. He scratched at his crotch absentmindedly, feeling the weight of his enormous cock straining against his pants—ten inches soft, twice as thick as most men's wrists, unwashed for days, carrying the sharp tang of old cum and sweat. Poz for years, he didn't give a fuck about protection; raw was the only way he rode. It was past midnight when he spotted the tiny kid stumbling out of a dive bar on the corner. The boy looked barely legal, maybe 18, all of five feet tall and skinny as a rail, his slim body swaying from booze. Paralysis from some accident years back left his legs useless below the knees, but he managed with crutches that now clattered to the sidewalk as he waved weakly for a cab. Joe pulled over, eyeing the fresh meat through the rearview. 'Where to, kid?' he grunted as the boy hauled himself into the back seat, collapsing with a sigh. 'Take me to... uh, Elm Street,' the kid slurred, his voice high and boyish. He was cute—smooth skin, messy blond hair, wearing tight jeans that hugged his narrow hips and a loose tee that showed off his flat chest. Joe nodded, starting the meter, but kept glancing back. The kid's head lolled against the window, eyes fluttering shut almost immediately. 'Hey, you good back there?' Joe asked, but got no response. By the time they hit the first red light, the boy was out cold, mouth slack, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. Joe's cock twitched hard in his pants. This was too perfect. No one around, no cameras in this old rustbucket cab. He licked his lips, tasting the stale beer on his breath, and made a decision. Instead of heading to Elm Street, he veered toward his rundown apartment on the edge of town—a filthy one-bedroom in a crumbling building where the walls reeked of mold and his own musk. The drive took twenty minutes, the kid snoring softly the whole way. Joe parked in the alley behind the building, killed the engine, and lumbered out. He yanked open the back door, scooping the limp body up like a ragdoll. The boy's crutches stayed behind; no need for them now. Inside, Joe's place was a pigsty. Empty pizza boxes piled on the floor, clothes strewn everywhere, the air thick with the stench of unwashed sheets and body odor. He kicked the door shut and carried the kid to his king-sized bed, the mattress sagging under his weight even before he dumped the boy onto it. The kid didn't stir, dead to the world from the alcohol. Joe stripped off his shirt, revealing his hairy belly and chest matted with sweat-soaked fur. He unbuckled his belt, letting his pants drop. His massive cock flopped out, already half-hard, the foreskin peeled back to show a grimy head smeared with old smegma. Veins bulged along its length, and his heavy balls hung low, fuzzy with hair. Joe climbed onto the bed carefully, the frame creaking under his bulk. He positioned the boy's body face-down, peeling off the tight jeans with rough hands. The kid's ass was small and pale, cheeks firm but untouched. Joe spread them apart, spitting a thick glob of saliva onto the tight pink hole. No lube needed; he was going in raw, just like always. His cock throbbed as he lined up, the fat head pressing against the entrance. 'Easy now,' he muttered to himself, not wanting to wake the little fucker. He pushed forward slowly, the ring of muscle resisting at first, then giving way with a pop. Inch by inch, he sank in, the boy's unconscious body yielding without a fight. The heat inside was incredible—tight, virgin ass gripping his dirty shaft like a vice. Joe groaned low, holding still to let it adjust, then began to thrust gently. His hairy gut slapped softly against the boy's back as he rocked, careful to keep the rhythm steady and quiet. The kid's face stayed buried in the pillow, drool pooling from his open mouth. Joe reached around, fumbling with the boy's shirt until he yanked it off, exposing smooth skin. He mauled the small chest with one meaty hand, pinching nipples while his other hand steadied the hip. Deeper he went, bottoming out until his balls rested against the boy's taint. Sweat dripped from Joe's brow as he fucked, the bed barely moving under his controlled pace. His cock pistoned in and out, dragging along the walls, the foreskin sliding back and forth over the filthy head. He could feel the poz precum leaking already, coating the insides, marking this tiny hole for life. 'That's it, take Daddy's load,' he whispered, though the boy couldn't hear. Minutes stretched into a haze of pleasure; Joe's breaths came heavier, his thrusts picking up just a hair faster. Finally, he buried deep and unloaded, ropes of thick cum flooding the ass, spilling out around his shaft as he ground in place. He pulled out slowly, watching his seed ooze from the puffy hole, mixing with a hint of blood from the rough entry. The boy twitched faintly but didn't wake. Joe wasn't done. He flipped the limp body over, spreading the skinny legs wide. The kid's own cock was small and soft, nestled in a light patch of pubes. Joe ignored it, spitting again on the used hole before sliding back in. This time face-to-face, he could watch the boy's slack expression as he fucked missionary-style, his massive frame dwarfing the tiny one. He leaned down, hairy chest rubbing against smooth skin, and sucked on the boy's neck, leaving wet marks. His hips rolled gently, cock churning the cum inside into a frothy mess. The second round lasted longer, Joe's stamina endless from years of this shit. He sucked on the boy's tits, biting lightly on the nipples, while his hand wrapped around the small cock, jerking it absently. It hardened a bit in his grip, but the kid stayed out. Joe growled, thrusting harder but still quiet, the wet squelch of ass and cum filling the room. When he came again, it was with a muffled grunt, pumping more poz seed deep, overflowing and trickling down the crack. By now, the clock read 3 AM. Joe took a break, lumbering to the kitchen for a beer, his cock swinging heavy and slick between his thighs. He chugged it down, then returned, wiping the excess cum from the boy's ass with a dirty rag before positioning him on all fours—well, propping the upper body up since the legs flopped uselessly. Joe mounted from behind again, this time gripping the slim waist with both hands. He fucked slow and deep, savoring the looseness now, the way the hole sucked him in. His balls slapped lightly against the boy's, the sound obscene in the quiet room. Sweat poured off him, matting his body hair, dripping onto the pale back. He used the boy like that for the third time, varying angles to hit different spots, whispering filthy encouragements to the unconscious form. 'You love this big dick, don't ya? Begging for it in your sleep.' Cum number three joined the rest, a massive load that made the boy's belly swell slightly from the volume. Joe eased out, plugging the hole with his thick fingers to keep it all in, then rolled the kid onto his side for the fourth go. Spooning the tiny body, Joe lifted one leg and slid in easily, the ass now a sloppy, cum-filled sleeve. He thrust lazily, one arm draped over the boy, hand playing with the soft cock and balls. The room stank of sex—sweat, cum, and ass. Joe's beard scratched the boy's shoulder as he nuzzled in, biting the earlobe gently. This round was intimate, almost tender in its violation, his huge cock stretching the hole wide with each push. He came quietly, flooding it once more, then stayed buried inside, dozing lightly with the boy impaled. Dawn crept in through the cracked blinds, pink light filtering over the mess of bodies. Joe stirred first, his cock still semi-hard in the wrecked ass. He pumped a few lazy times, feeling the familiar build, and added a fifth load before pulling out. Cum gushed out in a river, soaking the sheets. The boy groaned then, eyes fluttering open, confusion hitting him like a truck. 'Wha... where... fuck, my ass!' The kid tried to sit up, wincing at the burn, his paralyzed legs unresponsive as he flailed. Panic set in as he felt the slick mess between his cheeks, the ache deep inside. 'What the hell happened? Did you... oh God, no!' Joe sat up slowly, his hairy bulk looming over the tiny frame. He grinned, yellow teeth flashing, and placed a heavy hand on the boy's chest, pinning him down. 'Whoa, easy there, kid. You passed out in my cab, mumbling all sorts of shit. Begging for a ride home, saying you needed this big ol' cock up your ass.' The boy shook his head, tears welling. 'No, I didn't! I was drunk, I just wanted to go home! Get off me, you fat fuck!' Joe's grip tightened, his other hand stroking the boy's thigh possessively. 'Nah, you were all over it. Kept grinding back in your sleep, moaning like a little slut. 'Fuck me, Daddy, give it to me raw.' I tried to wake you, but you just pulled me closer. Look at you—hard as a rock half the night.' He nodded at the boy's cock, which betrayed him with a twitch despite the fear. 'Liar! I don't even... I'm not gay, I swear! Let me go, I'll call the cops!' Joe laughed, a deep rumble, and leaned in close, his breath hot and rank. 'Cops? Kid, you climbed in my cab, passed out, and I brought you here to keep you safe. You wanted this—begged for it. Feel that cum in you? That's what you asked for, multiple times. I ain't taking no for an answer now that you're awake. You're mine till I say otherwise.' He grabbed the boy's wrists, pinning them above his head with one massive paw, while his free hand probed the sloppy hole, pushing cum back in. The boy whimpered, struggling futilely against the giant's strength. 'Please... no...' But Joe was already hard again, his dirty cock rising like a monster. He flipped the boy onto his stomach, spreading the legs wide. 'Shh, just like you begged. Take it raw, boy.' He thrust in without mercy this time, the cum easing the way as he started pounding, the bed shaking. The kid cried out, but Joe covered his mouth, fucking deep and hard, whispering lies in his ear. 'That's it, beg for more. You love Daddy's poz load.' And as the sun rose higher, Joe claimed him fully awake, breaking any resistance with relentless cock, ensuring the infection took hold while the boy sobbed beneath his hairy weight.

Alex had always been the shy type, a tiny 18-year-old with a slender frame that barely reached five feet tall. His wide eyes and innocent smile made him look even younger, and this was his first time at anything like the Furry Convention. He'd saved up for months to attend, drawn in by the colorful online forums and videos of people in elaborate animal costumes dancing and hugging. Dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans, he wandered the crowded halls, clutching a badge that read 'Newbie Paw!' in sparkly letters. The air buzzed with laughter, music, and the rustle of fur suits. Alex's heart raced with excitement; he felt like he'd stepped into a dream world where everyone was friendly and accepting. He paused at a booth selling glow sticks and ears, chatting awkwardly with a fox-masked vendor about his favorite cartoons. That's when he noticed the giant figure lumbering through the crowd. The mascot was enormous, easily seven feet tall, clad in a thick, plush wolf costume with gray fur, sharp ears, and a bushy tail that swished behind him. The suit's paws were oversized, and the muzzle hid whatever face lay beneath, but the eyes gleamed with a predatory spark. Alex stared, mesmerized by the sheer size. The wolf mascot caught his gaze and waved a massive paw, lumbering over with surprising grace for such bulk. 'Hey there, little guy,' came a deep, rumbling voice from inside the suit, muffled but warm. 'First con? You look lost in all this fur.' Alex blushed, nodding vigorously. 'Y-yeah, it's my first time. Everything's so... wow.' The wolf chuckled, the sound vibrating through the costume. 'Name's Rex. Saw your badge. Wanna grab a drink in my room? Got some soda and snacks away from this chaos. Safer for newbies like you.' Alex hesitated for a second, but Rex's tone was so reassuring, like a big brother. Plus, the convention hall was overwhelming. 'Sure, that sounds nice,' he said, following the giant as they weaved through the throng toward the hotel elevators. The private room was on the fifth floor, dimly lit with posters of anthropomorphic characters taped to the walls. Empty soda cans littered the table, and a large bed dominated the space, its sheets rumpled. Rex closed the door with a soft click and peeled off the wolf head, revealing a broad, bearded face with a smirk. He was even bigger without the suit—muscles bulging under a tight tank top, his height making Alex feel minuscule. 'Make yourself comfy, kid,' Rex said, tossing a can of cola Alex's way. Alex caught it, popping it open and sipping nervously as he sat on the edge of the bed. 'So, what do you think of the con so far?' They talked for a bit, Rex asking about Alex's life, his school, his lack of experience with... well, anything social like this. Alex opened up, feeling safe with the giant's easy laughter. But then Rex's hand landed on his knee, heavy and warm. 'You're cute, you know that? Tiny like a pup.' Alex froze, his face heating up. 'Uh, thanks?' He shifted away, but Rex's grip tightened. 'Relax. Just wanna show you some fun.' Before Alex could protest, Rex lunged, pinning the boy to the bed with one massive arm. Alex's soda spilled, fizzing on the carpet as he squirmed. 'W-wait, what are you—stop!' Rex's free hand yanked at Alex's jeans, ripping the button open. 'Shut up, pup. You came here for this.' Alex's heart pounded in terror, his small body thrashing uselessly against the giant's weight. Rex shoved the jeans down, exposing Alex's slim legs and plain white briefs. The giant's breath was hot against his neck as he ground his hips forward, the bulge in his costume pants enormous. 'No, please! I thought we were just talking!' Alex cried, tears welling in his eyes. But Rex ignored him, flipping the boy onto his stomach and yanking his briefs down to his ankles. Alex's ass cheeks, pale and untouched, quivered in the cool air. Rex spat into his palm, rubbing it roughly over his exposed cock as he freed it from his pants. It was monstrous—thick as Alex's wrist, veined and throbbing, at least ten inches long with a heavy set of balls swinging below. 'Gonna break you in, little bitch,' Rex growled, pressing the fat head against Alex's virgin hole. Alex screamed, bucking wildly, but Rex slammed a hand over his mouth, muffling the cries. With a brutal thrust, he forced the tip inside, stretching Alex's tight ring painfully wide. The boy’s body convulsed, his hole clenching in agony as inch after inch invaded him. 'Fuck, so tight,' Rex groaned, bottoming out until his balls slapped against Alex's taint. He didn't wait, pulling back and ramming in again, setting a punishing rhythm. Alex's muffled sobs vibrated against Rex's palm as his ass was pounded, the giant's cock pistoning deep, scraping his insides raw. Each thrust jolted Alex forward on the bed, his small cock trapped and grinding against the sheets, leaking pre-cum unwillingly from the friction. Rex's other hand gripped Alex's hip, bruising the skin, as he fucked harder, grunting with every slap of flesh. 'Take it, you little slut. This is what cons are for.' Sweat poured down Alex's back, his body betraying him with twitches of unwanted pleasure amid the pain. Rex's balls tightened, and with a roar, he buried himself deep, flooding Alex's guts with hot cum. Rope after rope pulsed out, overflowing and dripping down the boy's thighs. But Rex wasn't done. He pulled out with a wet pop, flipping Alex onto his back. The boy's face was streaked with tears, his hole gaping and red, cum leaking from it. 'Please... no more,' Alex whimpered, but Rex just laughed, grabbing his hair and forcing his head down toward the still-hard cock. 'Clean it.' Alex gagged as the slimy length was shoved into his mouth, the taste of cum and his own ass bitter on his tongue. Rex face-fucked him roughly, the head battering his throat until Alex choked and retched. Saliva and pre-cum drooled from his lips as Rex used his mouth like a fleshlight, hips snapping forward until he came again, shooting down Alex's throat and making him swallow convulsively. Panting, Rex reached for his phone on the nightstand. 'Hey, that was just round one, pup. Let's make it a party.' He texted a group chat, his thumb flying. Alex, dazed and trembling, tried to crawl away, but Rex pinned him easily. Minutes later, knocks sounded at the door. Rex opened it, letting in three more furries— a burly bear in a brown suit, a sleek panther with black fur, and a spotted hyena whose costume hung loose around a muscular frame. They eyed Alex's naked, cum-smeared body with hungry grins. 'What's the scene, Rex?' the bear asked, stripping off his head to reveal a hairy-chested man in his thirties. Rex clapped him on the back. 'Roleplay with my boyfriend here. He's playing the innocent pup getting gangbanged by the pack. Total consent— he's into it. Right, babe?' He shot Alex a warning glare. The boy, terrified and broken, could only nod weakly, his voice gone. The others bought it, chuckling as they open their suits at the crotch, revealing hard cocks of various sizes— the bear's thick and girthy, the panther's long and curved, the hyena's knotted at the base like a real beast. The bear went first, hoisting Alex up like a ragdoll and impaling him on his cock. Alex yelped as the fat shaft split him open again, gravity driving it deeper than Rex's. The bear bounced him on his lap, grunting as Alex's ass clenched around him. 'Fuck, he's tight for a roleplay slut.' Pre-cum lubed the way, mixing with Rex's load, as the bear thrust up savagely, his belly slapping Alex's back. The panther stepped in front, forcing his curved dick into Alex's mouth, muffling his cries. They spit-roasted him in tandem, the panther's cock curving to hit the back of his throat while the bear reamed his hole. Rex watched, stroking himself back to hardness, before joining in. He grabbed Alex's hand, wrapping it around his massive cock and making him jerk it off. The hyena, impatient, knelt behind the bear, waiting his turn. Soon, the bear roared, pumping a thick load into Alex's bowels, the excess squirting out around his shaft. He dumped the boy onto the bed, where the hyena pounced, flipping him onto all fours. The hyena's knotted cock pressed in, the bulbous base stretching Alex impossibly as it popped past his rim. 'Knot's gonna lock you good,' the hyena snarled, humping like an animal, his thrusts short and frantic. Alex's body shook, his small frame overwhelmed as the knot swelled inside, tying them together. Cum from the bear sloshed with each movement, and the hyena reached around to pinch Alex's nipples, twisting them hard. The panther, not done, straddled Alex's face, grinding his ass down and making the boy rim him unwillingly, tongue forced into the musky hole. Rex took the opportunity to slide under Alex, sucking on his tiny cock and balls, the unwanted stimulation making Alex buck and whimper. The hyena came with a howl, his knot pulsing as he flooded Alex, the tie lasting minutes while the others laughed and groped. When the knot deflated, they rotated. The panther laid Alex on his back, folding his legs to his chest and pile-driving into his sloppy ass. The curved cock hit Alex's prostate relentlessly, forcing a shameful spurt of cum from his own dick onto his stomach. 'Look at him shoot— boyfriend's loving it,' the panther jeered, pounding faster until he added his load, painting Alex's insides white. Rex reclaimed him next, fucking missionary style, his giant body dwarfing the boy as he kissed and bit at his neck, leaving hickeys. 'Mine to share,' he murmured, slamming home one last time and erupting deep. The night blurred into a haze of endless rape. They took turns in pairs and threes, double-penetrating Alex's ass with two cocks at once, stretching him to tearing. One held his arms while another fucked his face, cum bubbling from his nose. They bent him over the desk, over the chair, against the wall— every position imaginable. Alex's hole gaped permanently, a ruined mess leaking a river of seed down his legs. His voice grew hoarse from screaming and begging, but the furries only egged each other on, convinced it was all scripted fun. 'Deeper for the roleplay!' the bear bellowed, fisting his cock into Alex alongside the hyena's. Hours passed, the room reeking of sweat, cum, and musk. Alex's body went limp, used beyond endurance, his mind fracturing under the assault. Finally, as dawn crept through the curtains, the others dressed and left with backslaps and promises of next time. Rex, last to go, patted Alex's cheek. 'Good pup. Clean up and get back to the con.' He tossed a towel over the boy's battered form and walked out, leaving Alex alone, curled in a fetal position on the cum-soaked bed, his innocence shattered forever.

The industrial warehouse on the edge of the city loomed like a forgotten relic, its brick facade scarred by graffiti and years of neglect. Inside, Studio 7 buzzed with the low hum of fluorescent lights and the faint echo of moans from adjacent sets. Tyler, an 18-year-old fresh out of high school from a sleepy suburb, had answered the online ad on a lark. 'Entry-level adult film extras wanted—no experience necessary. Easy money, quick shoot.' He'd lied about his age in the application to make 18 sound more seasoned, but his boyish face and slim, untouched body screamed virgin. At 5'7" with messy blond hair, smooth pale skin, and wide hazel eyes full of naive hope, Tyler dreamed of escaping his dead-end life. He wore faded jeans that hugged his narrow hips and a plain gray hoodie, his sneakers squeaking on the concrete floor as he clutched a crumpled resume. The receptionist, a bored woman in her 40s with a cigarette dangling from her lips, barely glanced up. 'Tyler? Director's in back. Sign this waiver—standard stuff.' The paper blurred under his nervous fingers: releases for nudity, penetration, group scenes. He skimmed it, heart pounding, and scribbled his name. She buzzed him through a heavy door into a dimly lit space that smelled of stale sweat, lube, and industrial cleaner. Cameras on tripods flanked a raised platform with a stained mattress, flanked by folding chairs and scattered props—handcuffs, bottles of oil, a duffel of toys. Director Vance, a wiry man in his 50s with a ponytail and a perpetual smirk, waved him over. 'Kid, you look fresh. Virgin? Perfect for the 'innocent twink' vibe. We're shooting a daddy-dom scene today. You'll pair with Big Ron—our star bear. Lights, camera, action in ten. Strip to your undies and wait.' Two cameramen—burly guys named Mike and Luis—adjusted lenses, chuckling under their breath. A sound guy fiddled with mics, and in the corner, a producer typed on a laptop. Tyler's stomach flipped. 'Wait, like... full penetration? I thought it was just posing.' Vance laughed, clapping his shoulder too hard. 'Read the fine print, boy. This is pro porn. You back out now, no pay. But finish the scene, and you're walking with five hundred. Ron's hung like a horse—gonna make you a star.' Tyler swallowed, peeling off his hoodie and jeans, left in white briefs that did little to hide his soft cock. He sat on the edge of the mattress, knees bouncing, as the crew prepped. Then Big Ron lumbered in, a mountain of flesh at 6'5" and over 300 pounds. Late 40s, with a greasy beard streaked gray, rolls of fat cascading over his belt, and hairy arms like tree trunks. His gut hung heavy, straining a stained tank top, and sweat beaded on his forehead from the short walk. He reeked—unwashed body odor mixed with old cum and something sour, like days-old cheese. 'Fresh meat,' Ron grunted, eyeing Tyler like a meal. He stripped without ceremony, tank top hitting the floor to reveal sagging moobs dusted with coarse black hair, a belly that jiggled with each step. His cargo shorts dropped, unleashing thighs thick as Tyler's waist and, finally, his cock: a monster, twelve inches soft, thickening to fourteen erect, as girthy as a wrist. The foreskin clung tight, packed with yellow-white smegma that crusted the head and shaft, the stench hitting Tyler like a wall—cheesy, rancid, making his eyes water. 'Action!' Vance barked. Lights blazed hot on Tyler's skin. Ron grabbed him by the hair, yanking him to his knees on the hard platform. 'Suck it, boy. Clean daddy's dirty dick.' Tyler gaped, the cheesy cock slapping his cheek, leaving a sticky smear. 'I... I can't—it's filthy!' But Ron shoved forward, the bloated head forcing past his lips, smegma flaking onto his tongue—bitter, gritty, like spoiled milk. Tyler retched, but Ron held his head firm, thrusting shallowly to coat his mouth. 'Lick it clean, virgin slut. Taste what a real man's packing.' Tyler choked, saliva mixing with the cheese as he lapped tentatively, tongue scraping the folds under the foreskin. The flavor burned, acrid and overwhelming, but Ron's grip tightened, fucking his face deeper. Inches slid in, stretching Tyler's jaw until it ached, the girth bulging his throat. Gags wracked him, tears streaming as Ron's balls—hairy, sweat-slick—smacked his chin. 'Deeper, bitch. Gag on daddy's cheesy meat.' The crew filmed close-ups, Mike zooming on the drool bubbling out, Luis capturing Tyler's flushed face. Ron's hips bucked harder, the dirty shaft pistoning, smegma dissolving into a slimy froth that dripped down Tyler's chin onto his chest. After minutes of brutal face-fucking, Ron pulled out with a wet pop, his cock now slick and semi-hard, cheese residue clinging to Tyler's lips. 'Bend over the bed, ass up. Time to pop that cherry.' Tyler scrambled onto the mattress, trembling, briefs ripped down to expose his smooth, pink hole—virgin tight, untouched. Ron rummaged in the duffel, grabbing lube and the largest condom they had, extra-thick magnum size. He slathered his cock, the rubber straining as he rolled it on, the latex creaking over the veined length. But it barely fit, the tip peeking out, material taut. 'Please... be gentle. I'm scared,' Tyler whimpered, face buried in the sheets. Ron snorted, spitting on his hole before jamming two thick fingers in dry. Tyler yelped, the intrusion burning like fire, his ring clenching futilely. Ron twisted them roughly, scissoring to stretch, adding a third without warning—knuckles deep, probing the walls until Tyler sobbed. 'Tight as fuck. Gonna wreck this boypussy.' He yanked his fingers free, positioned the head at Tyler's pucker, and shoved. The breach was agony. The condom-sheathed cockhead popped past the rim, tearing a scream from Tyler as three inches sank in. 'Stop! It's ripping me!' But Ron gripped his hips, fat fingers digging bruises, and thrust harder—half his length burying in one go, the girth splitting Tyler's ass wide. Blood welled immediately, the virgin hole resisting the invasion, micro-tears forming from the sheer size. Ron pulled back slightly, the condom slick with red streaks, then rammed forward again, bottoming out with a grunt. Tyler's body jerked, ass clenching in pain, the burn radiating through his core. 'Fuck, you're bleeding already, kid. Take daddy's fat cock.' Ron set a merciless pace, hips slamming forward, his belly slapping Tyler's back with wet thuds. Each plunge dragged against the torn walls, blood lubricating the slide but amplifying the raw friction. Tyler clawed the mattress, crying out, 'It hurts too much! Pull out—please!' The condom stretched thinner with every thrust, latex groaning under the strain. Ron's cheesy cock—now buried deep—pounded Tyler's prostate, forcing unwanted sparks of pleasure amid the torment, his own dick leaking onto the sheets. Sweat poured off Ron, dripping onto Tyler's skin, mixing with the metallic scent of blood. The crew cheered softly, cameras rolling. Deeper in, Ron's rhythm turned feral, grunting like an animal. On a particularly vicious thrust—full force, balls-deep—the condom gave with a sharp snap. Tyler felt it: the sudden bare heat, the loss of barrier, Ron's raw skin grinding directly against his ravaged insides. 'What— the condom broke! Stop, you're bare!' Ron laughed, a deep belly rumble, not slowing. 'Oops. Guess you're getting daddy's load raw now.' He pinned Tyler's shoulders down, fucking harder, the broken latex shreds scraping inside. Blood squelched with each pump, Tyler's hole gaping wider, torn edges inflamed and bleeding freely down his thighs. 'No, no—cum outside! I don't want it!' Tyler begged, voice breaking into sobs, but Ron's weight crushed him, cock swelling thicker bare. The orgasm hit Ron like a freight train. He roared, slamming balls-deep, and unloaded—thick ropes of cum blasting into Tyler's guts, hot and forceful. Pulse after pulse, flooding the battered channel, overflowing to mix with blood in pinkish drips. Ron ground in, milking every drop, his cheesy seed marking the virgin deep. Tyler shuddered, his body betraying him with a weak spurt of his own cum, ass milking involuntarily around the invading shaft. Ron pulled out with a obscene slurp, a gush of cum and blood following, Tyler's hole twitching open, unable to close—puffy, wrecked, leaking steadily. He curled up, weeping, ass throbbing in fire. 'Cut? Nah, keep rolling,' Vance said, grinning. 'Crew, you earned a bonus. Gangbang the twink—bareback only. Poz that boy good.' Tyler froze, eyes widening in horror. 'What? No— I didn't sign up for this! Stop the cameras!' But Mike and Luis were already stripping, cocks hard and out—Mike's seven inches cut and veined, Luis's thicker with a curve. The sound guy, a lean twink named Alex, joined, his dick average but eager. Even Vance unzipped, revealing a modest shaft. Ron stepped back, stroking his spent cock, watching. They swarmed him. Mike grabbed Tyler's arms, pinning them behind his back, while Luis flipped him onto his stomach, knees shoved wide. 'Please... no more. It hurts so bad—I'm bleeding!' Tyler cried, thrashing weakly. Luis spat on his cock and rammed in bare, no prep—the cum-slick hole offering little resistance but reigniting the agony. 'Shut up and take it, slut. We're all poz—gonna load you up.' He fucked rough, hips pistoning, cock churning the mess inside, blood and cum frothing out. Tyler screamed, tears soaking the mattress, begging, 'Stop! I'll do anything—just stop!' But Mike forced his cock into Tyler's mouth, face-fucking him while Luis pounded his ass. The thrusts were brutal—Luis's balls slapping the torn rim, drawing fresh blood, each plunge tearing deeper. Alex knelt beside, jerking off onto Tyler's back, then swapped with Luis, his slimmer dick sliding in easier but no less vicious, hammering the prostate until Tyler's cries muffled around Mike's shaft. They rotated relentlessly. Vance took a turn in Tyler's ass, gripping his hair and yanking his head back as he thrust—short, angry jabs that made Tyler's body jolt. 'Cry all you want, kid. This is the industry.' Cum leaked from every load: Luis first, grunting as he bred deep, hot seed joining Ron's. Then Alex, whining as he unloaded, pulling out halfway to let some splatter Tyler's cheeks before shoving back in. Mike flipped Tyler over, legs hooked over shoulders, and drilled down—bare cock spearing the bloody hole, making Tyler arch and sob, 'Mercy... please, it burns! I'm gonna break!' Vance finished last, barebacking with clinical efficiency, flooding Tyler's guts while choking him lightly on the neck. 'One more for the road.' Cum overflowed, pooling under Tyler's ass, the ring swollen to twice its size, raw and lacerated, blood trickling in steady rivulets. The men were poz—viral loads high, intentional breeders in this underground scene—ensuring Tyler's infection with every bare thrust and deposit. Finally, they stepped back, zipping up, laughing as Tyler lay wrecked—body shaking, face streaked with tears and spit, ass a ruined, gaping wound leaking a cocktail of cum, blood, and shame. 'Good take. Kid, you're hired if you want round two,' Vance said, tossing a wad of cash that bounced off Tyler's thigh. The cameras stopped, lights dimmed, but the pain didn't. Tyler curled fetal, sobs wracking him, the warmth inside turning to dread. Days later, the test confirmed it: positive, poz from the raw gang load. Scars etched his hole—physical tears healing slow, psychological ones festering. In quiet moments, the memories replayed: the cheese, the break, the endless begging ignored. Broken, bred, forever changed.

The motel's parking lot was a sea of cracked asphalt under the harsh glare of sodium lamps, the air thick with the hum of distant traffic and the stale scent of rain-soaked dumpsters. Jake, barely 19 and hailing from a nowhere town where dreams went to die, had scraped together bus fare on a whim, chasing whispers of quick money in the city. The online ad had promised 'discreet companionship gigs—no experience needed.' He'd figured it meant posing for photos or light flirting, not this. His palms sweated as he clutched the room key, the brass tag for Room 12 biting into his skin. Inside, the space was a time capsule of despair: yellowed walls with water stains blooming like bruises, a lumpy queen bed sagging under its own weight, and a bathroom door that hung crooked on rusted hinges. Jake paced, his sneakers scuffing the threadbare rug, rehearsing lines in his head. He was slim, boyish—5'9" with tousled brown hair, clear skin, and wide blue eyes that screamed innocence. Tight jeans hugged his narrow hips, and a simple white tee clung to his flat chest. The wired half-payment sat heavy in his pocket, a reminder that backing out wasn't an option. The knock came at exactly 9 PM, sharp as a gunshot. Jake's stomach twisted. He cracked the door, peeking out before swinging it wide. There stood Marcus, a wall of a man at 6'3", his frame packed with muscle from years of manual labor and gym sessions. Late 30s, with a square jaw shadowed by dark stubble, cropped black hair, and eyes like chipped emeralds—cold, calculating. He wore a fitted black polo that strained across his pecs and cargo pants that did nothing to hide the bulge snaking down his thigh. A faint scar ran along his left cheek, adding to the air of quiet menace. "You Jake?" Marcus's voice rumbled, deep and edged with authority, as he shouldered past without invitation, the door thudding shut behind him. "Y-yeah," Jake stammered, locking it out of habit. "Marcus, right? Make yourself comfortable. There's... uh, water or chips if you want." Marcus's laugh was low, predatory, echoing off the thin walls. He dropped a duffel bag by the bed and turned, sizing Jake up like prey. "Cut the small talk, boy. I didn't drive two hours for snacks. You read the profile? Know what I expect?" Jake nodded too quickly, cheeks burning. The messages had been vague—'mutual fun, safe play'—but the cash had blinded him. "Sure. We can ease into it. Maybe talk first?" Marcus closed the distance in two strides, his cologne—a mix of leather and spice—overwhelming the room's mustiness. He grabbed Jake's wrist, yanking him close. "Talk's for shrinks. Strip. Now. Or I walk, and you keep that half-payment as a lesson." Jake's breath hitched, but he complied, fingers fumbling with his shirt buttons. It fell open, exposing pale skin unmarked by anything but a faint freckle trail across his collarbone. He toed off his sneakers, then shoved down his jeans, stepping out in plain gray boxers that tented slightly from nerves and unwanted arousal. Marcus watched, unblinking, then peeled off his own polo, revealing a torso carved from stone—broad shoulders, ripped abs dusted with coarse hair that arrowed down to his waistband. "Kneel," Marcus commanded, voice dropping an octave. He unbuckled his belt with deliberate slowness, the leather whispering through loops. Jake sank to his knees, the rough carpet scraping his shins. The zipper's rasp was deafening in the silence. Marcus hauled out his cock—monstrous, at least ten inches of girthy meat, veins bulging like ropes, the uncut head already flushing purple and leaking a fat bead of precum. It bobbed heavily, slapping against his palm as he stroked it to full hardness. "Open wide, rentboy," Marcus said, gripping Jake's hair and tilting his head back. The cockhead smeared across his lips, salty and musky, forcing Jake's mouth apart. He pushed in, the thickness prying his jaw to its limit, filling his mouth until his cheeks bulged. Jake gurgled, eyes watering as he tried to accommodate. His tongue pressed flat against the underside, tasting the bitter tang of skin and arousal. Marcus didn't wait, thrusting forward to bury half his length, the head bumping his tonsils. "Suck harder. Use that tongue like you mean it." Jake hollowed his cheeks, slurping messily as he bobbed, saliva bubbling at the corners of his lips. Marcus's hips rocked, fucking his face with increasing force—short jabs that made Jake choke, throat convulsing around the invading shaft. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the drool that dripped onto his chest. "Gag on it, boy. Choke like the slut you are," Marcus growled, yanking Jake's hair to control the depth. The room reeked of sweat and sex, wet glucks punctuating each plunge. Minutes stretched into agony, Jake's jaw aching, lips numb. Marcus finally withdrew with a pop, strings of spit connecting them. His cock glistened, throbbing angrily. "Bed. Ass in the air. Time to earn the rest." Jake crawled onto the mattress, knees sinking into the thin padding, heart hammering. He'd fooled around before—a fumbling handjob in a dorm, a quick suck in an alley—but nothing like this beast. Marcus rummaged in his bag, pulling out lube and a condom packet. He slicked his fingers, then knelt behind Jake, who was on all fours, boxers yanked down to his thighs. "Ever taken it up the ass?" Marcus asked, one rough finger circling Jake's virgin pucker. "N-not really," Jake admitted, voice muffled in the pillow. Marcus snorted. "Tight little hole. Gonna ruin you." He shoved a finger in dry first, ignoring the yelp, twisting it deep. Jake clenched, burning pain flaring, but Marcus added a second, scissoring brutally, stretching the ring without mercy. Lube followed, cold and slick, but the prep was cursory—three fingers pumping fast, hooking to graze the prostate and draw involuntary moans. "Please... go slow," Jake begged, trembling. "Slow's for pussies." Marcus rolled on the condom, the latex straining over his girth, then positioned himself. He gripped Jake's hips with bruising force, nails digging crescents into flesh, and rammed forward. The head breached with a pop, tearing a scream from Jake as inches forced their way in, splitting him open. "Fuck, it's too big! Stop!" Jake clawed at the sheets, body locking up. Marcus didn't. He thrust harder, burying to the balls in one vicious shove. Jake's hole resisted, then gave, a sharp rip of pain as the dry friction caused micro-tears. Blood welled, warm and slick, mixing with lube to ease the slide—but not enough. Marcus pulled back, the condom smeared red, then slammed home again, the bedframe rattling. "Take my cock, you whiny bitch," Marcus snarled, setting a punishing rhythm. Each thrust was a battering ram—deep, grinding, his hips slapping Jake's ass cheeks until they reddened. Jake sobbed, the burn intensifying as blood trickled down his thighs, staining the sheets. His hole pulsed around the shaft, torn and inflamed, every withdrawal tugging at the raw edges. But pleasure twisted in amid the agony, his prostate hammered relentlessly, forcing his cock to leak onto the mattress. "It hurts... oh god, it's bleeding... pull out!" Jake gasped, but his hips bucked back on instinct, chasing the fullness. Marcus laughed, sweat flying as he pounded faster. His balls swung heavy, smacking Jake's taint. He reached around, fisting Jake's dick roughly, jerking it in time—twisting the head, squeezing the base until Jake whined. The room was a cacophony: skin slapping wetly, Jake's cries, Marcus's grunts, the metallic tang of blood in the air. Deeper into the rut, Marcus's control frayed. He hooked an arm around Jake's waist, flipping him onto his back without exiting—legs shoved up, knees to chest, exposing everything. Blood smeared Jake's crack, the hole gaping slightly, puffy and wrecked. Marcus drove in again, the angle brutal, cock spearing straight to the core. Jake's eyes rolled, tears carving paths down his temples. "Look at you, bleeding for my dick. Pathetic." Marcus spat on his chest, then leaned down to bite Jake's nipple hard, drawing blood there too. His thrusts turned feral, hips pistoning like a machine, the condom's base chafing the torn rim. Jake's protests weakened, body betraying him as orgasm built unbidden. "No... don't... it burns so much..." That's when Marcus struck. Mid-thrust, his fingers pinched the condom's rim, tearing it with a sharp rip. He yanked the shredded latex free, flinging it aside, and plunged back in bare—hot skin sliding through blood and lube, raw and intimate. Jake felt the shift immediately: the loss of barrier, the increased glide, the danger. "What the fuck? The condom—stop! You're not wearing—" Jake thrashed, but Marcus pinned his arms overhead with one massive hand, the other clamping his throat just tight enough to restrict air. "Shut your hole," Marcus hissed, choking him lightly as he fucked harder. The bare cock dragged against every nerve, blood lubricating the assault. Jake's vision blurred, panic surging as he realized the risk—unprotected, this stranger's seed about to flood him. "Please... cum outside... I beg you," Jake wheezed when the hand eased, legs quivering over Marcus's shoulders. Marcus's eyes burned with dark triumph. He was loaded with HIV, viral count raging from skipped meds, and this naive kid was his perfect vector—young, fuckable, forgettable. "Beg all you want. You're getting bred raw." The pace became savage. Marcus hammered down, cock swelling, veins pulsing against Jake's walls. Blood squelched with each plunge, the hole a ruined mess—swollen, torn, leaking crimson trails. Jake's body convulsed, unwanted ecstasy ripping through him as his prostate was abused. He came first, untouched now, spurting ropes across his stomach with a broken cry, ass clenching like a vice. That triggered Marcus. He roared, burying deep, and unleashed. Cum jetted in thick, forceful blasts—hot, viscous, painting Jake's insides white. Pulse after pulse, overflowing the battered channel, mixing with blood to ooze out in pinkish rivulets. Marcus ground in circles, ensuring every drop stayed buried, marking the boy irrevocably. Finally spent, he pulled out with a obscene squelch, a flood of cum and blood following, soaking the bed. Jake curled fetal, sobbing, his ass throbbing in agony, hole twitching and gaping, unable to close. Fresh blood seeped steadily, the tears deep enough to sting with every shift. Marcus stood, cock softening and streaked red, wiping it clean on Jake's discarded shirt. He tossed the remaining cash on the nightstand. "Worth every penny. Clean up that mess—might wanna see a doc for the bleeding. Or don't. Your call, slut." "You... you did that on purpose. The condom... and you're... sick, aren't you?" Jake whispered, horror choking him as the warmth inside turned to dread. Marcus zipped up, smirking. "Who knows? Life's a gamble, kid. Enjoy the ride." He grabbed his bag and left, the door clicking shut like a final nail. Jake lay there for hours, body wrecked, mind fracturing. The clinic call came days later: positive, as expected. Scars lingered—not just the physical ones on his ass, still tender and scarred from the tears, but the invisible kind, twisting his desires into something darker. In the dead of night, fingers would probe the healed but sensitive ring, memories flooding back: the rip, the flood, the inescapable pull. Tricked, raped, infected, bleeding... and hooked.

The neon lights of the truck stop flickered against the night sky, casting long shadows over the gravel lot filled with rumbling semis and weary travelers. It was well past midnight, and the air hung heavy with the scent of diesel and stale coffee. Inside the dingy restrooms, 18-year-old Alex leaned over the sink, splashing cold water on his face. He'd hitched a ride from the city, dreaming of adventure on the open road, but now exhaustion clawed at him. His slim frame, toned from high school track, was clad in a tight white t-shirt and faded jeans that hugged his pert ass. Unaware, he dried his hands on his pants, glancing at his reflection—innocent blue eyes, tousled blond hair, and a boyish face that screamed vulnerability. Outside, Big Jake eased his massive rig into a spot near the toilets. At 45, he was a hulking figure, 6'4" with a beer gut straining his flannel shirt and arms like tree trunks from years of hauling freight. His cock, a thick nine-incher, throbbed in his jeans at the thought of fresh meat. Jake had HIV, a secret he carried like a loaded gun, passed on from a rough encounter years back. He didn't care about protection; in fact, he got off on the risk, the power of infecting some naive kid. Spotting Alex through the grimy window as the boy exited the restroom, Jake's lips curled into a predatory grin. The kid looked lost, perfect for what he had in mind. "Hey, kid," Jake rumbled, stepping out from behind his truck, his voice gravelly from cigarettes and whiskey. "You need a lift? Looks like you're stranded out here." Alex hesitated, eyeing the burly man. The trucker seemed rough but offered a ride, and with no other options, he nodded. "Yeah, thanks. Heading east, anywhere's fine." Jake clapped a meaty hand on Alex's shoulder, guiding him toward the cab. "Hop in. Got some buddies meeting up later, but we'll get you moving." As Alex climbed into the passenger seat, Jake's eyes lingered on the boy's tight jeans, imagining how that ass would feel clenching around his raw dick. The cab smelled of sweat and leather. Jake fired up the engine, but instead of pulling out, he reached into the glove compartment for a couple of beers. "Here, loosen up. Long night ahead." Alex took a swig, not noticing the bitter aftertaste as Jake watched him closely. The drug—roofies crushed into powder—would hit soon, making the kid pliable, forgetful. Minutes later, Alex's head lolled against the window, his eyelids heavy. "Wha... what's happening?" he mumbled, his body going limp. Jake chuckled, shifting the truck into gear and driving to a secluded pull-off behind the truck stop, hidden by overgrown brush. He killed the engine and hauled Alex's unconscious form into the sleeper berth at the back. The space was cramped, with a mattress stained from past conquests and chains bolted to the frame. Jake stripped the boy roughly, yanking off the t-shirt to reveal smooth, hairless pecs and pink nipples. The jeans came next, exposing Alex's slim legs and a small, uncut cock nestled in blond pubes. The boy's ass cheeks were firm, pale, begging to be spread. "Time to break you in, boy," Jake growled, shedding his own clothes. His thick cock sprang free, veined and heavy, already leaking precum. He didn't bother with lube; spit would do. Flipping Alex onto his stomach, Jake pried the boy's cheeks apart, spitting a thick glob onto the tight pink hole. He pressed his cockhead against it, forcing inch by inch into the drugged teen's virgin ass. Alex stirred faintly, a whimper escaping as his body instinctively clenched, but the drugs kept him from fighting back. Jake thrust deep, groaning as the tight ring gripped his shaft. "Fuck, you're tight. Gonna ruin this hole for good." He pounded relentlessly, his balls slapping against Alex's taint with each brutal stroke. The boy's body rocked on the mattress, his small cock trapped beneath him, rubbing against the rough fabric. Jake reached around, jerking Alex's dick roughly to mix pain with unwanted pleasure. Sweat dripped from Jake's brow as he hammered away, feeling his HIV-positive load building. No condom—why bother? He wanted this kid marked, infected, carrying his virus forever. After twenty minutes of savage fucking, Jake buried himself balls-deep and unloaded, ropes of hot cum flooding Alex's guts. He pulled out with a wet pop, watching his seed leak from the gaping, reddened hole. Alex moaned incoherently, the drugs wearing thin but leaving him dazed. Jake wasn't done. He flipped the boy over, shoving his cum-smeared cock into Alex's slack mouth. "Suck it clean, bitch." The teen's lips parted weakly, tongue lapping at the bitter mix of ass and jizz as Jake face-fucked him, skull-fucking until he came again, shooting down the boy's throat. By dawn, Alex was chained to the berth, wrists and ankles secured with rough metal. The drugs had him in a haze, but awareness flickered as Jake climbed back in, dressed and ready to move. "You're mine now, kid. Got some pals joining the convoy. They'll love breaking you." He tossed a rag over Alex's naked body and drove toward a rendezvous point—a deserted lot where three other truckers waited, engines idling like hungry beasts. The mates were a rough crew: Tank, a bald brute with a pierced cock; Rusty, lean and tattooed with a sadistic streak; and Bull, the oldest at 50, his gut hanging over a girthy seven-incher. They'd shared loads before, passing around hitchhikers and lot lizards, but a fresh 18-year-old? That was prime. Jake pulled up, honking once. The men gathered at his cab, peering into the sleeper. "Got a present, boys," Jake announced, unlocking the chains just enough to drag Alex out. The boy stumbled, naked and cum-streaked, eyes wide with confusion and fear. "This little slut's all ours. Fresh ass, no mileage." Tank grinned, grabbing Alex by the hair and forcing him to his knees on the gravel. "Look at that pretty mouth. Bet it sucks like a vacuum." He unzipped, his pierced dick—eight inches with a thick ring through the head—slapping against Alex's cheek. The boy gagged as Tank shoved in, the piercing scraping his tongue. Rusty and Bull circled, stroking their cocks while Jake watched, his own dick hardening again. "Drug him up if he fights," Jake said, handing over a vial of poppers. But Alex was too weak to resist much, his body betraying him as Tank skull-fucked him deep, balls smacking his chin. Saliva dripped down Alex's chest as the trucker grunted, flooding his mouth with cum. "Swallow it, boy. That's just the appetizer." They hauled him into Bull's trailer, a larger setup with a makeshift sling in the corner. Alex was strapped in, legs spread wide, ass exposed and still leaking Jake's load. Bull went first, rolling on a condom but smirking as he positioned his fat cock at the boy's hole. "Gonna fill you proper." He thrust in, the latex stretching around Alex's abused ring. The teen cried out, bucking against the restraints, but Bull just laughed, pounding hard. Midway through, with Alex whimpering, Bull reached down and pinched the condom's base, tearing a small hole with his nail. "Oops," he muttered, but kept slamming, ensuring his pre-cum—and whatever else he carried—seeped in. Rusty took over next, no condom from the start. His tattooed body glistened with sweat as he rammed into Alex's sloppy hole, the boy's ass now a cum-filled mess. "Feel that? Raw and real, kid. You're gonna catch something from this." He clawed at Alex's nipples, twisting them red while his hips pistoned, cock dragging against the inner walls. Alex's own dick twitched traitorously, leaking pre as unwanted arousal built from the relentless friction. Tank flipped the sling, positioning Alex face-down so his ass jutted out. He lubed up with spit and plunged in, the piercing adding ridges of pain-pleasure. "Tighten up, bitch. Milk my load." Alex sobbed, but his body clenched, drawing groans from the brute. Tank fucked like a machine, breaking a sweat, then yanked the condom off mid-thrust—another one sabotaged earlier—and went bare, flooding the teen with thick spurts. "There ya go, infected now." Jake joined the rotation, taking Alex's mouth while Bull reclaimed the ass. The boy was double-teamed, gagging on Jake's HIV-laced cock as Bull's bare dick churned the cum inside him. The truckers rotated for hours, each breaking or ditching condoms to ensure the virus took hold. Rusty jerked Alex off during one round, forcing the boy to cum shamefully onto the floor while getting railed. By afternoon, Alex was a wreck—body bruised, hole swollen and gaping, cum oozing from every orifice. The truckers lounged, smoking and drinking, passing the boy around for quick fucks. Jake unchained him briefly, making him crawl on all fours to service each man, licking boots and balls before getting bent over the tailgate of a truck. "You're our cumdump now," Jake said, shoving Alex's face into a puddle of jizz on the ground. "Ride with us, or we leave you here leaking. But you'll want more." The drugs and abuse had broken something in the teen; he nodded weakly, body craving the twisted release. The convoy rolled out, Alex secured in Jake's sleeper, ready for the next stop. More mates would join, more loads to take, the infection sealing his fate in this endless road of depravity. Tank drove point, Rusty and Bull flanking, all knowing the kid was theirs to share, to ruin, to infect forever. As the sun set, Jake pulled Alex onto his lap in the cab, impaling him on his cock while steering one-handed. "Feel it deep, boy? That's your new life." Alex moaned, grinding down, lost in the haze of cum and submission. The truck stop faded in the rearview, but the nightmare—and the ecstasy—had only just begun. The days blurred into a haze of asphalt and ass-fucking. At every stop, the truckers added to the roster: a grizzled vet named Spike with a curved dick that hit Alex's prostate just right, making him squirt unwillingly; and Marco, a younger hauler with endless stamina, who tied Alex spread-eagle and edged him for hours before dumping raw inside. Each man knew the score—Jake's whisper about the HIV spread like wildfire, turning the sharing into a deliberate breeding session. One night at a remote weigh station, they parked in a circle, building a bonfire from scrap wood. Alex was the entertainment, stripped and oiled up, made to dance for the six truckers now gathered. His slim body glistened, cock half-hard from the poppers they'd forced on him. "Shake that ass, slut," Spike barked, and Alex obeyed, twerking until hands grabbed him. They took turns in the firelight, bending him over logs, against tires, even hoisting him between two men for a spitroast. Condoms appeared sporadically, only to be ripped or filled with holes. Marco went last, flipping Alex onto his back and folding his legs to his chest, pounding so deep the boy's toes curled. "Take my seed, poz boy," Marco hissed, erupting without barrier, his load mixing with the others in Alex's battered guts. By week's end, Alex's body ached constantly, his hole never closing fully, a constant drip of cum marking his jeans when they let him dress. Fevers came and went—early signs, Jake said with a laugh, slapping the boy's ass. "You're one of us now." The infection took hold slowly, but the truckers didn't care. They drove on, Alex chained and used, his innocence shattered on the road's endless ribbon. In the sleeper, as Jake fucked him slow and deep one night, the boy whispered, "More... please." The virus bound him, but so did the cock, the cum, the brutal brotherhood of the highway.

Love this story

Amazing story why did u stop???