DevilDawg

After I have totally drained my balls on the fiction from some very fertile minds in the Backroom, I continue to explore the dark alleys, nooks and crannies of Breeding Zone. I have many hobbies and have worked in many professions including cybersecurity, so I will not toss a bunch of hyperlinks at you but here is some more recent and not so recent items about myself. I am skeptical of the news – Faux or Mainstream as well as podcast snips, but I happened to catch an NBC 4 Washington DC snip about an event last at the Congressional Cemetery during Pride Month. I know a lot of gay history, as have a front row seat knowledge of Gay History in DC and elsewhere. You can see the snips and pertinent history by googling Gays and Graves, Congressional Cemetery, and Father and Mother of Gay Rights. Truthfully, fiction is often not as entertaining as reality. Case in Point: You can rent the Congressional Cemetery for a Party and what is now the ‘Gay Corner’ of the cemetery came into being simply because the LGBTQ+? Knew it would piss off J Edgar Hoover who is buried there along with his lover just a few plots away. Just a couple of stones over from JEH’s ‘man buddy’ is a stone commemorating one of the original Movers and Shakers of the Gay Rights Movement (though his remains/ashes were never released by his executor. Just across the path are the remains of the ‘mother’ of the gay rights movement was was instrumental in getting the American Psychiatric Association (APA) to trash all the Kinsey Scale ratings designating homosexuality and variations thereof as ‘mental disorders’. Those Pioneers – Frank Kamey and Barbara Gittings (A Time Magazine Cover Celeb) are joined by plot neighbor Leonard Matlovitch also a Time Magazine cover celeb who is just a few stones away from Hoovers manloverbuddy. The FBI does not appreciate the inferences but there is no mistaking that the evidence and facts are daunting. As I attended the Gays and Graves event, I was impressed of just how many people purchases their plot as a fuck you to Hoover and like-minded cat-lady criticizers. Having attended World Pride 2025 in DC, then the following weekend attended the debacle DickTaterTot parade, The educational tone of this weekend was welcome even though it was way to hot to generate some spit near JEH’s site. This next weekend is Toronto Pride. If you have never been you might consider it – it is just like stepping onto the set of the US Queer as Folk series. In fact, you do as outside scenes are mostly all from Toronto. There is certainly no such strip in Pittsburg. I am up for hosting . Though I normally just sleep at the bathhouses, I am riding my Can Am Motorcycle up so I need some more space for gear and play during an extended stay. I started realizing just how dark my wild child side was when I was staring with my mouth open at the Adult Arcade under the Old DC Olympic Baths at the Video Booth flyer denoting the video inside was ‘Two Dicks up One Ass’. A businessman or politician noted my stunned behavior and dragged me inside and had his way with me. I love to Pitch, Catch, Suck, infrequently fist, enjoy electric play, spanking, flogging, and must state for a fact that had prolific BZ Authors not put the bias in my mind, - I would not have considered foot and toe sucking until after reading Breeding Zone during Marathon Binge sessions, when I was approached (in the sling) to try it, I panted YES!

There are plenty of reasons to be addicted to Breeding Zone. Whether you are POZ, -or- Negative and happy to be that way, Neg-Longing to be POZ, Neg and waiting to see what 'cums', Revolted or Fascinated by RAW is LAW Natural Sex, this site attracts, titillates, and addicts a full spectrum of our Tribal Nation that transcends borders, financial means, religious upbringing (or not), education level, intelligence quotient, hobbies, experience, kinks, age, Veteran Status, Conscience Objector thoughts, etc. Regardless of your favorite flavor, in the US, there are Governors who have tried to forbid you access to this freedom of this kink freedom of speech platform (I live in Virginia and have to VPN just to read and post here). At the larger level (US Federal) efforts are on to allow no Veteran service providers at the VA to deny service not just to Trans, but to Generically Vanilla Gay Vets as well. Despite the inherently potential self-destructive risks and dangers, these forums contain discussions that can guide a seeker to real resources to live longer or to use the time you have to find and enjoy your favorite kinks. Through these forums, you can transport yourself for a period into a zone which (if on TV) would have a warning of do not try this at home. Like most kids who are warned not to do something, I ignore such advice when my desire, erection, or itchy hole suit me. This happened when against everyone's advice I attended the Washington DC No Kings Events and have a new tacky wardrobe ranging from Sic Semper Tyrannus No Kings shirts, to the obvious pride and 'what I impale my ass on is my business' slutty clothing. The original Pride was a Riot, but since then we have learned that throwing a brick can land you in jail; However stinging with wit and parody is at the present still appropriately legal. I was not alone in my protest. I did my part to make some trouble and churn some thinking in Washington DC on the weekend after World Pride at the US Presidential 'March of the Bored Soldiers' parade. Neither the Commander In Chief or SEC DEF DrunkenFratBoy merited even the remote semblance of a Goose-Step. The Reicht-Wing news (could) have pointed out that soldiers are routinely ordered into Route-Step mode when NOT on Parade. This is useful since 'marching' on a bridge by a military unit can weaken or break the bridge! Of course the DC Reviewing stand was not actually near a bridge. The only Faux News person who might have been competent to mention this had left Faux News to be SECDEF.

I have been going there for some time, with a big pause during COVID. In fact, when visiting Toronto, I found it more fun to ignore a hotel and and rest / play at the bath house. I got loaded up in March and will be back for Pride. Cheers!!

Before HIV, there was the unfortunately named AYDS Diet Plan (no kidding)! RUFF Lessons: First Story here and I’m not going to ask you to be kind – It is not in my nature, please be brutal, especially if it pleases you. For that innocent reader, there are some life lessons of mine which I have diaried in the ‘Book of Dick’ which I have edited to toss out irrelevant data such as remove the top from 35 MM Film Canisters when you shove it up your virgin ass (BEFORE) you insert because (if) the top comes off you will have two fissures of slices as you try to remove the cap. Twinks today are unlikely to ever have one in their possession so – you know – jus sayin. That advice is moot, and so is most any advice unless it is collaborative or substantiated! So, first story here on Breeding Zone, I have lost a lot of precious bodily fluids wanking to Breeding Zone and while I have read and understand the rules, I know that truth is stranger than fiction and truths plus learned behavior and observation affect us in funny ways. I have also led a ping pong ball life of trial and error and despite being lucky I would have really benefitted by mentoring from a gay daddy early on but no such luck (sigh). However, also having a masochistic streak, I usually enjoy Hard Lessons (at least after the tears have dried). Nevertheless this is a work of friction. This a beginning. Perhaps not (the) beginning which started around Kindergarten when I learned the effect of silk on the thigh, or in elementary school where I was electrified by leather. But in a (Southern) Baptist community where spouses do not fuck standing up else someone might think they were dancing the need for caution was obvious. As I was looking to enter military service, The often drunk National Guard Recruiter missed an appointment, the Air Force was a weak consideration, my technical School Teacher in Advanced Electronics was miffed that I had looked into the Navy but for the Advanced Electronics Program, required an initial 6 year enlistment - (4 Yrs with an agreement to extend) which I declined: Being from Missouri, the Coast Guard was not even on the RADAR even though I now know they have to be proficient at multiple professions from the start of their career; No. I was a sucker for Marines! I did not stand a chance! My Recruiter took me for a ride in his Shelby Mustang, and his Gunny took me for a ride in his AC Cobra. I was Happily Doomed! Still, they did not screw me, and the military entrance processing at the time was brief. I was nervous as fuck at the Kansas City MEPS having carelessly smoked a joint a few weeks before, and nervous again if they were going to ask this cocksucker if he had ever sucked a cock of stuck his dick in an ass (m or f), it was still called sodomy in those days). (Guilty on Both Counts! (fortunately it never came up). I suppose worse still would have been a question of if I had ever longed for a cock up my ass. Fortunately the father knows best 'MEPS' Doc simply asked if I liked Girls which I replied yes, of course, A horny Teen will often use any available hole, but for me it had been cocksucking from early in my slutty hobby and Rosy Palm of late. Delayed Entry and IRR build up / prep prior to Boot Camp consisted of excitement, worry, anticipation, dread, joy, and back to excitement. On my Senior Trip to the Nations Capitol, while other Varsity Studs snuck away for some beer, I snuck away to the Leather Bar where the bouncer gave me the side eye (I now know he was cruising me but he also had a job to do). Still this was before 1985 and with a military ID – even one as insignificant as mine would get me in most places. In the dimly lit bar - I was a startled bird and chickened out after blowing a load in my BVDs. After a strenuous Summer of hiking Philmont, sucking dick at the Adult Bookstores three towns over, and a lot of caving & wanking, I went to MCRD San Diego for Marine Corps Boot Camp and there was little to no wanking. Yes, there was exhaustion, perhaps they did put salt peter in the food, yes, there was real mortal fear of being found out and prosecuted so I did my best to not fall behind and especially not to stand out (too far). Despite some surprises such as being told I qualified to be inserted into the Freshman Class of Cadets at Annapolis because of scores and my performance in Phase I and II of Boot Camp, I honestly stated that to succeed at the Naval Academy requires a lot of prep and I surprised my Platoon Commander by requesting the advice of my Senior Drill Instructor which surprised both of them. My query on his OK was to state that I am not a quitter, but I recognize that being ill prepared to jump into such a slot was a formulae for failure. I don’t know about other times, but my high score on the Edson Rifle Range at Pendleton as well as one other, I could see that I had impressed my Senior DI. There were other non-vocalized considerations but I made the right choice and it was not held against me. Despite all physical, chemical, and fear factors, morning wood appeared often with no real opportunity to rub one out. At Graduation, I was a tick ready to pop. Any chicken tendencies had been paved over with resolve and training but pressure was on! I was able to release my load(s) at my familiar adult bookstore but again I was a man who had never been fucked. Waves of horniness could only be partially subdued by wanking and trips to the ABS. After Christmas Break, I reported to NATTC Millington, the former home for Naval Aviation Maintenance Training where a new cautionary experience was to present itself. A student Marine was caught masturbating and it certainly did not help matters that his last name was ‘Bates’. For weeks you could hear the mocking hallway laughter with shouts akin to marko-polo except in this instance it was Master-Bates! Such cautionary considerations tempered my desperation but I was lucky in that NAS Milling was close enough for me to have driven there from my home of record. I became addicted to ABS’s, even the slightly vanilla ones in Tennessee and Missouri. The urge to get fucked was a heavy burden but there were other considerations. If a Marine got Gono or Syphilis on his tool, it was just an embarrassing trip to sick call. If a Navy Doc found it in his or her ass, it was sodomy and a quick career ender. I kept my ashes hauling status in check through cocksucking and avoided any Rocks and Shoals. This turned out to be justified when after A School, I deployed to the IInd Marine Airwing on the East Coast with C school and a coworker who had confided his brother was gay got caught with Syph in his ass and got a Bad Conduct Discharge. As a balance between service to country balanced with my carnal desires, I stuck with ABS’s and Toys which was harder than it sounds. As I completed C School Training and became fully MOS qualified, I had learned to keep my indiscretions over 100 miles from the flag pole. Gay Bars were an extreme hazard since CID and NIS agents would frequent them looking for military haircuts. Anal insertions were woefully inadequate. Cocksucking pitching and receiving was a band-aid to my lust, I needed more. I was reaching out for what I did not at the time know - to become a pushy-demanding-bossy bottom pig slut Marine (as it turns out). When the cops raided and closed the ABS that was not too close to the duty station, not too close to home, this goldilocks had to find a new place to spread her cheeks and receive her pollen. I found it halfway between Knoxville and Pidgeon Forge in a seedy ABS. The parking lot was promising – there were no blue base stickers denoting officer’s cars, we were not near any military base, but there was one red stickered vehicle denoting enlisted POV. NIS and CID would not be using (or so I assumed) such a marked vehicle. In the video arcade area there was a FIT young kid with a military haircut and crutches. This did not put me off; Long before the internet there was a thing called porn addiction. Limited good material and closed supply chain issues meant many ABS’s would have some of the same films and I had been previously mesmerized by the classic porn film called Sothern Comfort. This is where an injured kid in a van has hot sex with a grocery helper from a supermarket. I was a sex zombie, I found an open booth and kept the kid in my field of vision. I’m sure I had a desperate come hither look and he approached. As he entered the booth, I asked him to fuck me but told him we needed to use a rubber. He nodded and I slid my rubber on his member after I sucked it to hardness and turned. Unskilled and awkward, with differing heights and a leg in a cast, we simply could not make it work. Later, after buying tickets into be back theater, I found walls with ass-wide cutout gloryholes. I was a maniac trembling with lust. A cute young guy with a porn mustache and long hair was looking at me, I looked at him and whispered will you please fuck me? And his smile was like a sunrise and his erection was his answer. I quickly rubbered him up and here is where my lack of training and no mentorship changed my ass forever, I then put a rough rider (studded) condom on and he looked at me quizzically. I stood and turned and with no prep I was sawed into like a hacksaw blade was fucking me. I did a gasp and said take the rough rider off! And he did which instantly felt better, When he was done, I instantly turned to thank him and there was his bloody dick staring at me! In my started state he shoved his bloody cum and ass covered cock into my open mouth! I was so stunned and so appalled at what had happened I went on automatic., cleaning and sucking his cock. Previously I had fucked a Sailor in a Virginia Beach ABS Bathroom and had lost my pitching cherry, but this red bloody mess of having my anal cherry popped left me in awe. I had experienced how abrasive studded condoms can be and the ecstasy of Risk and Raw Bareback! The drive on to Cherry Point was a pain in the ass, but I drove with a satisfied mind.

Wow, titivating, funny how words constructed into a storyline can be so addictive. More Please? Oh yes, I'll be in Toronto for Pride! I love getting bred in Toronto!

It’s not like I keep a logbook, but most of my scenes are in ‘spurts’. I tend to have wild scenes at sex parlors and other venues followed by a dry spell. This way the sex act seems new, varied or fresh, the ass ring is taut and ready to do a token resistance. It is more fun falling off of the ‘Sin Wagon’ than climbing on. So here is an example of my last load(s) (of a few out of thousands)! I am quite the sexual tourist, enjoying what comes. My last trip was to Toronto from Virginia for an Anniversary. When I was younger, I quickly learned that there was no need for expensive hotels when you can sleep at the bathhouse as well as have lots of fun there! Niagara was hot (for there – 70 Degrees F), but Toronto was rainy and cool in March (you see what I mean by dry spells), I ignored SteamWorks and went to my fav rough(er) trade destination Spa Excess. After such a log drive and the build up I was in no condition to Top more than a few seconds so I found a spot in the GH booths and backed up to an open hole and waited. Earlier I had seen a wasted guy thus my pulse was pounding. What was that? A probing, then some ass play, then a rough fuck. I heard a question – ‘can I come over’? I said please do. It was cute college age kid and he did a repeat performance. The first fuck ad been without lube, just moist. I was listening for screeching sounds as his cock forced its way into my guts but his Pre eventually balanced my pain/pleasure and I was moaning like a uknowwhat. By the time he had dropped his second load I was in Hog Heaven! It was only the following evening when I was in New York State that I mused on what would have been the response from the US Border Agents had I declared 2 loads of Prime Canadian Cum at the border? Toronto was also a place where I accepted an invite for foot play and toe sucking which I would normally not have done had I not been inspired by the stories on Breeding Zone. The dry spell before that was after I went a little (too) hog wild even for me in November and December. I was in California for another Anniversary. I went to LA And then down the coast to SanDiego. My timing was slightly off so the bathhouse was closed. I went by the Marine Corps Recruit Depot that I had earned my EGA at many years ago and a sign caught my eye. MCRD is right next to the airport and there was a sleazy looking but large adult bookstore with garish neon lights like only the best holes have. I made my way to the theaters – there were mixes of gay and bi porn playing. I then realized I looked too much like a cop, but crowd caution calmed a bit since most Vice cops do not wank like Peewee and finger their holes at establishments targeted for raids. Eventually a nearby patron turned and gave me the full Monty which I immediately hilted with my mouth and started vacuuming. I lost some of his load straight down my throat though it was not really a ‘loss’, but the rest I spat on my fingers after savoring it and rubbed it on my hole which I then presented to the sparse audience. This was not a practiced move, and perhaps was not the approved script of the way things are done, but I got three more loads and left with a satisfied mind. On my way back to the East Coast, I went through Texas and while my schedule would not get me into Austin to see the new Eagle, I arrived in Dallas the next day. My dear friend from Dallas values our friendship and I have never been able to convince him to fuck me with his blessedly large member, but Club Dallas was close enough after I had checked out the new Dallas Eagle. I played with a guy on the fuckbench and got mounted in the steam room with only sweat for lube. In this year of 2025, on the 50th Anniversary of the Rocky Horror Picture Show, I continue my learned mantra of ‘Don’t Dream it’, Be It! I know that I am a man with needs, therefore I needs to be a pig slut. The AI response from the ether-verse is: The phrase "loads make me happy" is a casual way of expressing that many things, or a large amount of things, contribute to your happiness. It suggests that multiple factors, not just one, bring you joy.

The topic takes me back, I have a set of if-then processes I have learned the 'hard' way since my first play pace visits but that is another tale. What to take, what not to take, the regimen for pre-cleanout and the on-arrival flushing. Through mentoring and trial and error, I know it is discourteous to sleep in the sling(s), passing out in the sling has led to some pleasant and totally new kinks but is not recommended for the faint hearted. I use the lube syringe injector so I get a dollop deep inside where it will pave the way for a good pounding. Sometimes, sweat and spit are all I lube with, yes, there is the heat of friction and some tearing as the invader is accommodated but for me it is part of the scene. While there is a dedicated section for just this following rubber issue- To avoid a demerit, I will just point out that sometimes I will receive with a rubber and little to no lube because that SNAP as the rubber breaks is like a starting gun for a track meat, like the ignition switch for a rocket..... However, most of my play even with known unmedicated POZ Tops is bare. A few essentials in the kit to keep me fresh as a daisy, a jock in cases where I have totally blown my loads but am looking for more assgasms, the remarkable invention of a pig solvent popper lanyard since it is bad form a break a glass container or flood the airspace with an OD of poppers. Oh yes, a proper to-do POA&M (Plan Of Actions and Milestones) - call me crazy but there is method to my madness. If I have a goal to load a hole, I try to see if I can do that first - that way I can satisfy any bottoms with a full load. If I 'catch' first my continual assgasms will diminish my 'pitching' if I do it backwards. In short, I try to work every muscle group, I make sure I leave with empty balls, a loaded set of holes -and- if the universe is aligned correctly - lastly do that J Cash thing and leave with a 'satisfied mind'.