Bleeding )*(starfish

Moderators: The editing feature seems to be disabled and I'd like to make some minor edits for typos, punctuation, and readability. Could a moderator reactivate the editing feature so I can tweak this installment? Thanks!

Wish I had a little brother to do that to. Very hot.

My first attempt at writing porn. Hope it passes muster. This is a multipart story, so if you like it let me know--I'll keep them coming. Honest critical feedback would be nice... If something could be improved, let me know. Thanks again! Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a knock at the door and I'm supposed to have my blindfold on. Nighty-Night!

I just spent 10 hours getting fucked raw. I still had a marriage on Saturday: On Sunday my wife kicks me out. By Friday, I have my bleeding ass parked against a gloryhole taking any and all loads. It's a quick descent. This is day six. I'll get to the beginning of the story eventually, but I want to tell you what happened to me today! So he gives me a choice. I can have a regular job working in the backroom as a host—with free room board, ample Tina, and an endless supply of cocks, or I can stay chained down here and occasionally get a small plate of food. No Tina, no cock, no contact. I accepted the host job. In fact, I was feeling ready to start right away. Anything to get out of this sling. My wrists and ankles were killing me from hanging there for the last two days and I couldn't wait to stand and stretch. My ass was sore too—it needed a break. He didn't release me right away. Instead, he reached into his pouch and withdrew a loaded syringe. The menacing smile he flashed as he jammed it into my ass was genuine. The fluid was warm and burned my already raw ass as he shot me up. He waited for me to start coughing before taking his leather shorts down and brutally stabbing me with his massive cock. My hole was hungry and lusting, but was not ready for such a raw thrust! I felt my ass rip. Then wetness. I saw blood on stranger's dick as he forcefully crammed his cock in my ass, then withdrew it completely. He stabbed my suprised anus again, and then withdew again. Over and over and over... I could see his abdomen and legs were covered with blood and fear gripped me. He was HIV positive and my ass was bleeding. I tried screaming for him to stop. I didn't want to die! The only sounds that made it past the ball gag were muffled "mmmphfff...MMMMMphffff!" I was powerless to stop him from raping me. Gradually, as the effect of his spiked enema wore on, my pain and fear melted away and was replaced by raw lust. I suddenly became excited by having this Poz stranger fucking me. It was becoming pleasureable and I was in the throes of novice accomplishment: I was taking everything he was giving me! As he brutally slammed his hard meatstick in me, my ass started loosening, eventually relenting altogether. Once my hungry sphincter finally surrendered, I would will it to open wide in anticipation of each thrust, and then as he'd slide out, I would clench as tight as my bloody abused anus would allow. I felt such an agony of craving each time he withdrew, that I knew there would be no turning back. The sheer carnal craving was too intense--drug lust, pure and simple. It briefly occured to me that might feel remorse and self loathing later, but I could always tell myself this was forced. Except it by now it wasn't. I wanted to be held there and fucked silly by this Boss. The idea that he was raping me was seductive and kinky enough for my now-perverted lust. I would have willingly allowed this man to continue pummeling me just as surely as I was chained already. I want nothing but raw fuck. The thought of him shooting a load deep in me began to arouse my twisted deviant side. Fuck HIV! I'm never going to want stop experiencing this kind of pleasure. Truth is, I would beg to be raped and fucked raw by this man--and any other, for that matter—as long as I could have some of that magic formula shot into my ass. I was excited in to a frenzy of animal desire. Knowing that all the wetness that was lubricating my ass was blood only made me hotter. Abruptly he withdrew completely and pulled away. No! Keep fucking me! "Mmmgggghh! Mmmmmggghhh!" "Shut up. You'll get my load. This is just the first part of the interview." There was his menacing smile again. He uncuffed me and led me back upstairs to a room with a bunch of stalls without doors. In each stall was a manhole size opening in the back wall, and a bench/chair apparatus that had me facing away from the hole with my ass up in the air. I recognized these four holes from my first night here—except I was on the other side. (There were four cum-dripping, used-up, disgustingly loose asses getting worked by random customers—not many of those customers were too healthy looking.) He chained my hands to the bench, cinched a belt around my waist so I couldn't move my hips more than a few inches. Below me was a large bedpan partially filled with cum. He pointed to the dish, "If you cum, make sure goes in the bowl... We collect all the cream from the employees." I tried imagining to what kinky use he could possibly be putting all that man-milk. Declaring me hired, the Boss unbuttoned the straps on my gag. He threw it on the cum-crusted floor and stuck his cock in my mouth, making me lick the shit off it. I was buzzing too hard to care so I worked his dick until it was clean; indeed, anything taboo was now my most earnest desire! After he throat fucked me for a couple minutes, he walked out of the room. My heart sank. I was consumed by desire to have cock in me, whether it be my warm wet mouth, or my slippery bleeding ass. My disappointment was relieved when he returned bearing several of the bedpans from the other stalls. He dumped the contents into a decorative ceramic bowl. "See this?" he poured the last bedpan in the bowl—there had to be a half gallon of cum in the bowl. He put the bedpans back in their original stall and returned. He reached in the bowl and grabbed a cupped hand full of the cum-lube and slathered my ass making sure to jam it inside my anus and rub it around. He winked: "We use employee cum for lube." then he walked to the other side of the wall. He was going to put this oversized glory hole to use. There was no warning: He slipped his cock into my cum and blood lubed ass. I was pleased that it was much more accepting of forced entry this time. He thrust and slammed with brute force; and as his pace quickened. Soon I could sense he was ready to cum. I spread my legs as far I could and relaxed my hole as much as it would while he continued to pump away. There was a stutter and a hitch, a quick groan and then I felt my rectum fill with hot fluid. I could feel each toxic spurt and imagined the viruses in his hot cum to seeking all the torn tissue in my asshole. That single thought sent me into climax so hard that I squirted shot after shot of my own cum into the pan below me. I was still catching my breath when suddenly there was another cock. I couldn't turn to see who was on the other side of the wall, but it was someone different. His cock was smaller, but he fucked like a jackrabbit. A few minutes of quick thrusting and I felt him seize and convulse. My ass was filled with warm liquid. He withdrew and I felt warm liquid leaking from my ass. I scarcely had time to finish shooting my next load into the bedpan before I felt a gruff hand slather more of the cum-lube in my ass. Then the raping began in earnest. I welcomed it. With each cock my ass took and each load it accepted, I began to relax and find a rhythm. After this man, there was another. And then another. And another... I lost count at twenty-two. I didn't so much lose count as I did blank out. The steady rhythm kept me convulsing in orgasm after orgasm, long after the last drop of cum was emptied out of my balls. My piggy-fuck trance was broken briefly when there was an afternoon lull. My ass was squirming for a customer to fill it; and by evening, the shop was busy and I was getting at least seven or eight hard fucks an hour. I eventually lost count of the loads I took, but almost of ose customers came in me. My bedpan was nearly a half pint full from the number of times I came.... I'm already twinging from self-loathing, but I'm addicted and know that I am now well past any point of return. Except for the few dirty and scabby dicks I had to take, I could learn to like this job. (To be continued...)