chrispatcham

Does anyone know any book-size erotica about chasing etc. I came across this guy's books but he doesn't use poz talk. http://www.amazon.com/Erotica-fisting-watersports-straight-ebook/dp/B007DL2Y4Y/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1330422651&sr=8-1

Part Four As the night wore on load after load of man spunk was shot up Scott’s arse. The inevitable drips were collected in a plastic container so none would be wasted. Scott was starting to show signs of exhaustion, his mouth open and his eyes unfocused with lust and fatigue. Soon it would be my own turn to seed his arse. The last of the tops was about to cum, an Indian man in his forties, his enormous cock deep in my lad’s now soiled once virgin hole. I love to see the contrast between the roughness of a middle aged guy against the smooth, taught white skin of youth. The man panted and shuddered as his toxic seed shot into the young anus. He pulled out with a plop, pulling out a trail of ooze and cum. Scott seemed to focus again as I stood before him. I looked down at my own cockhead and ran it up and down gently over the ring of his arse, now swollen and resembling a small pink donut. He was obviously starting to feel uncomfortable, his arse wanting nothing now but to expel the wads of wet cum and to rest from its defiling. And yet our eyes met, his appearing so young and innocent, wide, full of longing like a hungry puppy. I kissed him, his soft lips opening for me. I entered him, stifling a gasp of bliss as my cock was engulfed by the hot, toxic slime of twenty men, fermenting in my young puppy’s guts. I was not ready to cum though, despite the pleading looks for release. I stroked his fat young cock, feeling his arse tighten over my dick, trying to squeeze the cum out of me. I pulled out. I reached for the plastic container under the sling and signalled to the servant lad to pass me the cum container that the tops’ cum had been spat into. I poured the now runny cum over my fingers and started to finger fuck Scott. He groaned in discomfort as I forced a fourth finger into him, lubed only with the cum of twenty men. “No” he whispered. “Yes, you can” I coaxed. “Go on, just open up. It’ll be OK.” One of the tops held Poppers under his nose, forcing him to inhale deeply. And then like magic he opened for me and my fist glided in. He moaned loudly with shock and a little fear. I held my fist in him and at the same time I bent forward and sucked his cock. He shook, yelled and then I felt his cum fill my mouth. It continued to pump out, his arse clasping my hand like a vice. I swallowed his young, sweet cum greedily, and then pulled out my hand. I stood by his side and pushed his sweet throat deep onto my desperate cock, only just in time. I came into his mouth, giving him his first taste of cum. He swallowed. And then it was over. Scott was now mine forever. We kissed and he stood like a newly born foal, unsteady on his feet. I held him and led him to bed, as my guests looked on, sated.

The story is not yet finished so if anyone imagines themselves in the role of a guest at the houseparty let me know what you'd like done to Scott and I'll see if I can arrange it.

Part Three I noticed some of the tops were getting restless and it was getting late, so I ordered three of the poz whore servants to come in and suck out their loads, which they then spat out into plastic containers, ready for Scott. The party broke up and I made sure Scott’s hands were tied before putting him to bed as he would cum only when I decided he could and not before. The following day was bright and sunny with the loch a deep blue and the hills green and verdant. My estate is surrounded by pine forest and it was through these that I walked Scott, naked but for his trainers, a collar and a leash. His stiff, large cock was wobbling up and down, a permanent line of ooze dripping from his foreskin, his balls tucked tight in his throbbing scrotum. Most of the tops had gone hunting or fishing and the poz whore servants were engaged in their chores around the castle. I asked Scott how he felt about being fucked later that night and how he felt about taking it raw. He replied with excitement, detailing his wish to be free to fuck and to be used as a cum whore without constant fear. I stroked his white bottom affectionately as we walked. The first part of the evening was to start with pre-dinner drinks and was designed to remove all barriers of Scott’s inhibitions. At 6 he was ordered to appear wearing his latest pair of tightly fitting briefs. His cock was almost pushing out of the cotton, the front sticky and wet. “Take them off” I said, quietly as the 20 men grew silent, their own cocks filling up. Most of the men had kept on their shirts and ties and had their formal trousers round their knees. In the centre of the room was something new. A washing up bowl with a little water. Scott looked confused. I led him over and told him to squat down. When he was kneeling with his arse over the bowl I told him to shit. “What?” he asked, his eyes large. “You heard. No-one is going anywhere till you show us your shit.” He blushed. “I don’t think I can....” he replied. “Everyone is watching!” The men studied his shame, slowly wanking. Eventually Scott began to strain, trying to avoid looking up. He let out a soft groan and looked up. I helped him up as the men came over to look. Scott was now pink faced and horrified but his cock was rock hard. “Nice” I commented, looking at his firm stool. “But now I want you clean inside and out.” I motioned to one of the servants who led him away to the sluice room in the basement and the men retired to a splendid dinner of fine game and fish. Over dinner there was some business to attend to: the matter of Scott’s cherry. This is traditionally decided by a bidding system, the money used to fund the house party. I declined to bid, preferring to watch the deflowering and enjoy the sweet last fuck. I opened the envelopes. The men looked expectantly and tense. It was going to be Robbie, a 50 year old investment banker from Glasgow, renown for his fat, cruel cock, and silver good looks. Robbie grinned at the news. Other men tutted, looked cross and waited for the following up bids, each one designed to strip a vestige of Scott’s virginity through a variety of first time acts. After dinner and whisky it was time and I rang the bell. Scott was shown in, his pubic hair freshly shaved off and his cheeks flushed from an hour of sluicing. I led Scott to the sling. Robbie was the only top to be fully naked. Scott was laying back, his arse beckoning. I gave it a final kiss as Robbie began to finger some lube into the lad’s hole. Scott looked at me. I stroked his cheek and moved round so I could see Robbie’s fat cock head touch the virgin anus. “Are you ready?” I asked Scott. He nodded. Robbie pushed into the lad, and Scott groaned in discomfort. I kissed him, feeling him struggle with the pain and pleasure of his first cock. Robbie started slowly and deeply till Scott’s arse began to open fully. Scott was shaking with pleasure, his cock puce. I brushed his hand off his cock. Robbie was really fucking now, his bio-load fermenting in his balls. I heard Robbie start to pant and kissed Scott fully just as Robbie started to let his seed fly into my lad’s virgin whole. Robbie was swearing with delight. But Scott’s night was far from over.

Part 2 The following Saturday afternoon Scott arrived as agreed, wearing jeans and a white t-shirt. The butler showed him to his room in the garret while I made preparations for the evening’s party. I heard the rumble of tyre on gravel and a mini-bus drew up with the first of the guests. Ten men I have used before started to get out, most of them built like rugby players, all seasoned raw tops eager to pump their loads into my lad’s smooth, innocent arse. I showed them to their rooms, got the servants, all former lads of mine, to carry the bags. The drawing room had been made ready for the first night’s party. In the centre of the room was a sling, around it elegant dining room chairs. Night was falling over the loch and a fine dinner of game was cooking as the twenty raw tops took their pre-dinner drinks. Meanwhile I went to the small room known as the surgery where Scott was to have his medical exam. The doctor was waiting. A strong and fit man of fifty, the doctor was an avid follower of my parties and eager to help out. Scott entered the surgery. He was blushing and nervous. The doctor told him to strip down to his pants, a nice pair of green cotton briefs. “Can you slip those off please?” asked the doctor. Scott peeled them off to reveal his chastity belt and straining cock. I unlocked him and his cock sprang to life. We bent Scott over and the doctor lubed up a gloved finger. He gently inserted it into Scott’s smooth, rounded butt. The lad shivered a little and I helped by spreading his delicious cheeks. I could no longer help myself and bent to lick the musky virgin hole which seemed to clasp itself to my tongue. “He is almost certainly a virgin” said the doctor, pulling off his glove. “Of course with boys it is harder to be certain.” “He is. I am sure” I answered. I stroked the lad’s smooth, round arse. The doctor continued his examination, making the boy open wide and gently but firmly pressing his fingers into the patient’s youthful throat, making him gag and choke, whilst I held his head with one hand and stroked the almost explosive cock with the other. Then we made him piss into a pint glass, making him blush again. It took a while the boy to be able to piss, so hard was he. “Can you hold out your thumb?” instructed the doctor, who then took a pin prick sample of blood to test. My cock shuddered at the sight of the neg blood drop. A few minutes later the doctor returned to confirm the result. “He’s negative of course.” I led the naked boy to a small room near the drawing room where the tops had gone to smoke cigars and drink huge glasses of brandy. On a small table were several pairs of underpants, each a different colour. The boy touched them. “What are the different colours?” he asked uncertainly. “For each session you will wear a different colour and that colour will define what happens to you. Over the next two nights you will try almost every sexual act devised by men, each one stripping you of your innocence until finally you become one of us.” “Which ones shall I wear now?” he asked me. I looked at his sweet young face, his eyes brown, his hair spiky and unkempt. I stroked his fine, athletic body. He had the grace of a swimmer. There was a hint of something Mediterranean about him, possibly even Indian, with just a light touch of brown. First it is blue.” The lad chose the pair of navy blue briefs. He did not realise that I get every one of my boys to wear the same pants and never wash or change them, each boy’s scent mixing with the next as each one of them experiences their breeding night. Scott was trembling as I led him into the drawing room, the air heavy with cigar smoke and brandy fumes. There was an unmistakeable smell of cock too, as twenty men slowly wanked their tools. “Scott, kneel down in the centre of the room.” The lad complied, his cock standing up like a pole of flesh, his jaw slack and his mouth wet with spit. The men each took a piece of paper with a number. I then reached into a pot and drew out the winner, the guy who would take Scott’s oral virginity. It was Mike, a 45 year old business man from London, and the owner of vicious looking cock, a nine incher, uncut and vascular. He stood over the kneeling boy. I knelt too, so that I was next to Scott and gently touched his chin, edging it upwards towards the sweaty head of Mike’s dick. “It’s your first time,” I whispered. “Take your time.” Mike’s cock stood directly towards Scott’s lips. I nodded and smiled to the lad and he opened his mouth and took Mike’s cock. There was a roar of approval from the men and Mike gasped. “Fuck yeah!” he hissed. Scott was starting to the taste for cock and soon each man lined up for a suck. I saved myself till last, feeling the sweet heat of Scott’s throat. I stroked his spiky hair and looked into his eyes, which were half closed in pleasure.

Droit de Seigneur (Part One) I am the Laird of a Scottish Baronial mansion, located in a remote part of the Highlands. From the large drawing room there are views over unspoilt mountains and the loch which is part of my estate. It is here that I host deflowering parties. And it is here that I had the great pleasure of deflowering a peach of a youth named Scott, an 18 year-old farm hand from my estate. I like to deflower my boys ritually, savouring each ever increasingly intense pleasure and each of my boys is treated to his very own house party to mark his special day, a day for him to remember forever. I had had my eye on Scott for a while, suspecting he may secretly hanker for the taste of cock. He was a quite youth, shy and often blushing. His hair was quite dark and spiky, his lips full and cheeky. One sultry afternoon last summer, when the air was thick with the smells of heather and peat, I pulled up in my Land Rover where Scott was busy digging a ditch. He was topless, his boyish body firm and smooth, the line of his underpants showing clearly, a line of pink elastic and the glimpse of white cotton. I chatted for a while, noticing him blush. I brushed a fly off his glistening chest. His mouth was ajar, his ripe lips drawing me like a pot of honey. I let my gaze drop to the unmistakable bulge in his jeans and smiled. Our eyes locked and lent in to kiss him. He returned my kiss with the raw passion of a hungry virgin teenager. I cupped his crotch and felt him moan. I unzipped him and pulled out his cock. It was agreeably big, rock hard and dripping with slime. I stroked it gently with my finger tips and he shuddered and gasped. I knelt down and took his cock in my mouth, feasting on the acrid and pissy taste. I took out my own cock, letting it stick out of my suit trousers for him to see. He made a move to suck it. I stopped him. “It’s your first time, isn’t it?” I asked and he nodded, eager to suck my fat, 8 inch cock. “Your first time should be special. And it will be.” Scott nodded, frustrated and confused. I explained the deal to him and he listened with awe and excitement. He learned that when he was fucked, it would be bareback. His arse would be tagged and he would forever share his DNA with his first fucker. I, or possibly another man, would own his arse. I wanted him to be pozzed. He trembled with excitement. He knew what was meant to be. “Please let me suck you” he whispered. I shook my head. From my pocket I took out a leather chastity belt and brushed away the boy’s hands from his own almost puce cock. I pushed his cock into it, fastened it tightly and locked it. “Next week” I whispered. He nodded, his eyes wide with wild excitement and lust. “Next week and you will be mine forever.”