slcfriskybear

Your first name (or a name you'll respond to): slcfriskybear Your cell number (Text Only): (801) 618-5052 A location (be at least as specific as a zip code): Glendale AZ 85301 Times you're generally not available: Days and some nights. Please text to find out availability. Age: 45 Height: 5'10" Weight: 200 lbs Ethnicity: white

Part III Two other gorgeous men dressed in the same red leather as Mac entered the enormous circle of light and walked toward their cohort. One of them was a Caucasian with a hairless, swimmers build and the other was shorter, smooth, solid and obviously Hispanic. The booming voice from the darkness spoke, “Mac, since you are new to your position, these Lures shall be your servants for the evening’s events. They will assist you in prepping the cum-whores for each round.” Both of the men bowed to Mac and moved to take their positions slightly behind him on either side. “Now, which game shall we play?” The shadow voice said slowly, giving it an even more ominous tone. “I believe that, for our first round, we shall use the Ring of Toxic Death. Mac, take your servants and secure each of our five secretly willing victims into their respective stations on the Ring.” Mac and the others quickly moved to obey. Starting with number 1, each of us was forcibly removed from his respective St. Andrews cross. Before we were moved our hands were cuffed behind our backs and the noose was placed around our necks. The long pole kept each man at a safe distance from our captors as we were relocated to the large, black, waist-high, pentagon-shaped device. Each side had a padded station that would perfectly hold a man that was bent over into a perfect doggy-style fucking position. Numbers 1, 3, and 5 struggled hard to no avail and, before their handcuffs were removed, they were shackled, with chains on their wrists and ankles, into their stations on the Ring. Number 2 didn’t resist as he was transferred. He calmly walked, with his head lowered, to his place on the device and allowed them to secure his arms and legs. I twisted and turned, pulling at the rope around my neck, but this was more for show. I wanted the others to believe that I was resisting more than I was internally. Even though I didn’t want to show it to everyone else, deep down inside I was really excited at what was taking place. The terror was intoxicating and I could hardly wait to find out what was going to happen next. Chained into place, all of us standing inwards, facing each other, I could see the terror in number 1 and number 3’s eyes. They were perhaps no more than twelve feet from where I stood and each was breathing heavily through their noses. Their mouths still contained the red gag balls that muffled their whimpers. The restraints on our wrist gave us just enough slack to allow us to remain standing, but we were unable to turn around. Each rope of metallic links, attached to our wrist cuffs, disappeared into dark holes in the middle of the Ring of Toxic Death. “We will now play a modified version of musical chairs,” The deep manly voice rang loudly from unseen speakers in the darkness, “and this game will decide who may win the first round. We shall call it musical slut waiting for his toxic death loads.” The voice chuckled a bit and other sounds of male laughter rang out in the darkness. “We shall play a song while Mac walks around the circle. He will stick his cock in each one of your un-lubed asses, which I imagine might hurt a bit. The last one to take his cock before the song ends will be the winner of this round. Random chance has picked number 1 to take his cock first. Mac, you will then go around the circle clockwise until the end of our little tune. If you resist taking his cock then you will have just volunteered to win this round. Mac’s First Assistant, tighten the chains to position our little friends.” The Caucasian man in red moved to a table and picked up a remote control. He pushed a button and all of the chains moved into the holes on the Ring. This pulled all five of us into a bent over position. None of us could move anything other than our heads. Mac walked up behind number 1 and pulled out his rock hard huge cock. He was obviously very turned on by what was happening, but he wasn’t the only one. My cock throbbed and precum dripped from the end of my hairy tool. “Let the music begin.” The voice rang out from the darkness. A generic techno type of music blared from unseen speakers. It was the kind of song that you might hear while fucking at a bathhouse. Mac positioned the head of his large cock against the asshole of cum-slut number 1 and pushed his hips forward in one slow, forceful motion. Number 1 screamed out from behind his gag-ball and I could see his eyes widen and then clench shut. We could all tell that he was in pain. His forehead hit the top of the Ring in front of him several times to obviously refocus some of the pain away from his dry fuckhole. Mac withdrew his hard shaft as more rapidly than it was inserted. I could see a grin on his face as he moved clockwise around the circle. When Mac rammed his cock into number 2’s hole there was a grunt of anguish, but I could see the determination in the previous Mac’s eyes. He just stared forward while remaining silent and still. I hoped that I would be as tough. However, I would not get my chance to find out. As the new Mac was walking from number 3 towards number 4 the music stopped. “Number 3 is our winner men!” The voice boomed from the darkness. “Mac, pull out your coin and lets have a toss to determine if we AIDS breed this little pig or if we release him?” Mac pulled out a coin from a small pocket in his belt. “Heads you get filled with lots of AIDS babies…tails…you go free.” Mac bent over to softly say these words into number 3’s ear. I could see the terror in the slut’s eyes intensify. Mac tossed the coin, caught it in his hand and slapped it down hard on his opposite wrist. When he removed his hand he loudly said the word “Heads!” Laughter echoed from the dark. Number 3 pulled wildly at his restraints in vain. There would be no escape. His fate was sealed.

Your first name (or a name you'll respond to): slcfriskybear Your cell number (for texts and voice calls): 801-618-5052 text is best A location (be at least as specific as a zip code): West Valley City, Utah 84120 Times you're generally not available: Some nights...depends, but we try to work out a time Age: 42 Height: 5'9" Weight: 190 lbs Ethnicity: Caucasian

Part II Still hooded so that I remained completely blind, I was forcibly taken through the house, down a set of stairs and through a door. Part of me wanted to yell out, but I was in shock, too scared at what these men may do if I resisted. I heard the side door of a van slide open, I was thrown inside and I lay on the floor, all four of my limbs handcuffed. I was helpless. Several other men entered the van, and the door slid closed. I heard the garage door lift and we were off. We drove for several hours. All the while the voices around me talked quietly. I heard one of them mention that tonight’s group was a “good crop,” and that this evenings events should be particularly interesting. The vehicle finally came to a halt. I was pulled out of the van by a few men that lifted me off of the ground and carried me through a door that I heard unlatch and squeak as it swung open. They were far from gentle with me. My clothes were cut from my body and stripped away, and when my feet touched the floor I could feel the cold firmness of concrete. Several sets of strong hands held me in place, and my hands were still handcuffed behind my back. Cold water hit me and I gave out yell. A strong hand covered my mouth in warning, silencing me instantly. While standing in some sort of shower I was thoroughly washed both inside and out. Leather Straps were placed around my neck and wrists and ankles, and a harness was positioned around my torso. All the while my captors remained silent. My hood was removed, but the surrounding space was pitch-black and I remained unable to see anything as a different leather hood was placed upon my head. I could feel that this covering left my mouth and nose exposed. A hand squeezed the sides of my cheeks which forced my mouth open and a gag ball was strapped in place. After being dragged through the dark, my arms and legs were spread and I was shackled in place. There were muffled moans around me and whispers in the dark. A low, masculine voice rang out through the blackness, “Welcome chasers. All of your on-line chats with me have indicated that you have a strong desire to be fucked by HIV positive men. Well, as you have already guessed, you won’t be getting fucked by me. Actually, I am HIV negative. However, we have many dozens of poz men here that are full of cum and ready to plow all of their juice up your waiting asses. Every member of our brotherhood, except for me and a couple others that lure in chasers like you for the infectors, are very poz. None of them are on meds and if you are lucky enough to win some of their seed tonight, then you will most certainly become poz yourself. They are here to service you and help you to become what you secretly desire; POZ. Accept your destiny and let them eradicate your fear of becoming infected once and for all. We will now play a sequence of games and your fate will be decided for you. Shall we begin?” Spot lights came on above me and I was momentarily blinded. When my vision returned I saw that I and four other attractive young men were strapped to five St. Andrew’s Crosses all facing each other in a very large circle. Numbers hug above each of the crosses. From looking at the other numbers I assumed that I must be number 5. In the middle of the circle were a bunch of sexual devices including (but not limited to) what looked like padded sawhorses, small and larger cages, and one large round platform with five padded stations. Beyond the edge of crosses was only darkness. A man dressed in all red leather gear including a harness, Boots, chaps, gauntlets, a collar, and a hood was standing to one side of the circle. I instantly knew by his incredibly hot body that this was “Mac.” Mac stepped forward but stopped suddenly as another voice came from the surrounding darkness. “Mac, bring number 2 to the Leader immediately. 2 has been randomly chosen to speak with him.” Mac quickly obeyed. He withdrew a long stick with a hoop at the end (that is normally used to restrain dangerous animals) from a large, black box. He placed the hoop around number 2’s neck and tightened it a bit. The gorgeous, hairy man with a rock solid body, huge cock and a goatee was then released from the cross and was led from the light to the shadow beyond by Mac, who was firmly holding the other end of the restraining pole. I looked around the room at the others that remained. Some moaned behind their gag balls. I could not fully see their faces because of the black leather hoods over their heads, but I could observe their naked bodies. They were all beautiful. My ego told me that I must fit in well. Numbers 1 and 3 were hairless and yet completely masculine and very well built. Number 4 and I had hairy chests, stomachs and legs and we looked similar other than the fact that I had a short beard and he was clean shaven. Every one of us only wore a harness, a hood, cuffs on our wrists and ankles, and a collar. All of these were leather and black. I suddenly realized that all of our large cocks were rock hard. I knew at that moment Mac had been right. We all were extremely excited by the danger that awaited us, at the chance of being gang-fucked and pozzed up. It seemed like Mac had been gone for about a half an hour when the voice from the dark spoke, “Chasers, there has been a change in tonight’s events. We have made a deal with one of your fellow poz-cum-seekers. You see, we can’t have our lures getting too old and so the role of Mac will now be played by number 2. He has accepted the job in exchange for us letting him remain negative.” The new, younger “Mac” stepped out into the light. It was indeed number 2 dressed in the red leather gear. He held one end of the restraining pole in his left hand and other end was still obscured in the darkness. The voice continued, “The toss of a coin has decided that the former employee will now join the chasers and be subject to the same risks as the rest of you. Mac, restrain the new chaser on cross number 2.” Mac pulled on the pole and the previous, older “Mac” was revealed. He was now dressed in the same black outfit as the rest of us. He was also gagged. The man in black was quickly restrained on the cross by the man in red. The new Mac walked to where his predecessor had stood at the edge of the circle. Facing us and placing his hands behind his back the man in red leather said, “Now, shall we begin?”

(This is a completely fictional story) Part I My name is Patrick, if that even matters to any of you reading this story. I just thought you should know. I sat in my jeep looking across the street to the red front door on a brick house. Still fighting with the urge to back away from this course of action, I took a deep breath and opened the car door. Months before I had started up an on-line conversation with a guy named Mac. His pictures were extremely hot and they depicted his solid, hairy chest, full, dark beard, muscular thighs, shaved head, thick 8” cock, and his piercing blue eyes. I wanted to have him fuck me from the first moment that I saw those awesome pics. But there was just one problem. He was poz. I had been barebacking for quite some time with various men, with whom I was somewhat familiar. Most people would consider them to be my fuck buddies or regulars. Getting fucked bareback had become the only way that I enjoyed taking cock and I found that I could never go back to using condoms again. There was a part of me that wanted to be able to take bareback anonymous loads from any guy that wanted to penetrate my tight hole, but another side of me was nervous and scared of becoming HIV positive. I was certain that there must be other men in the world that would relate, but I was not aware of any and I felt very alone. I wanted someone to understand and I think, secretly, I wanted someone to help me to become poz. Mac and I talked a lot, on-line, about barebacking and how he loved to fuck all sorts of men. It didn’t matter to him as to whether the bottoms were poz or neg. He would fuck and breed anyone that requested his seed. This sort of conversation always made me extremely horny and my cock would call for me to stroke it, while reading through his previous messages, until I would shoot a big load onto my furry stomach. I even found myself looking at his pics and masturbating when he wasn’t on-line. The fantasies of him plowing deep into me with his big, hairy cock and coating my colon with his toxic semen were intoxicating to me. Well, his seed wasn’t entirely toxic. He has said repeatedly that he was undetectable and that meant that, if we ever did fuck, the chances of converting me was only very minimal. However, the thought still riled my need for adventure, for danger. The barebacking sessions with the safer regulars were becoming less exciting since I had started to discuss undetectable breeding sessions with Mac. I even found myself, occasionally, imagining that one of my neg tops was undetectable while they were fucking me. This made the experience much more intense and my thoughts keep telling me that what I really wanted was to get fucked and bred by Mac. However, then my thoughts would scare me. At moments during my bareback sessions I would envision that the top sliding his raw cock up my fuckhole was a high viral load poz top and I would suddenly lose control. This thought would send me through the roof and over the edge. I would begin moaning and pulling on the back and butt of the top as if to say, “Yes, fuck me! Fuck my neg hole and poz me because that is what I really need, what I want, what I have longed for!” But when the top would cum in me and I would shoot my load I would return to my senses and be terrified at what I had envisioned and how erotic it was to me. How could I think such things, it wasn’t right. It was dangerous. After a few months of chatting with Mac and hearing his many stories as well as sharing some (but not all) of my desires with him, I had decided that I would take a risk. The drive to take an undetectable load had been way to strong and I was losing my ability to resist it. I knew what I would do. I would absolve myself of the responsibility and let fate decide. I would toss a coin. Heads would mean that I stay with my neg top regulars and tails would mean that the universe was telling me that it would be okay if I took a few undetectable loads. After all, how dangerous could it be, Mac had told me that he had been on meds for years and that undetectable guys aren’t really contagious. Not that I didn’t really trust his information, but I researched if undetectable men are very contagious and found that, according to most experts, they aren’t. So, there I stood in my living room, fully naked with a rock hard cock and a quarter in my left palm. I stared down at it for a moment, took a deep breath and then tossed it into the air. The quarter flipped several times before landing in my right hand and I quickly flipped it face down onto my left wrist. I froze for a moment, unable to lift my hand and look at the coin. I closed my eyes, removed my hand and looked down, I saw heads. I felt a flood of disappointment come over me. How could this be? I was sure that the universe would want me to get fucked by Mac. That it wouldn’t do any harm. Then I made a decision that would be important to the rest of my life. I decided to go 3 out of 5. I tossed the coin again in the same fashion and looked at it. Heads again. I was overwhelmed with the same feeling of disappointment. Somewhere down inside I craved to see tails. Tossing the coin twice more I did see the desired tails each time. My excitement and nervousness swelled. I couldn’t believe what I was doing, but I was determined that no matter what the next flip was I was going to abide by my deal. I would follow either path no matter how my rational self may scream at me. The quarter flew through the air one last time and I missed catching it. It fell to the carpet, rolled and came to lie next to my couch. I slowly walked towards it and when I got close enough I saw that it was tails side up. Close enough I thought. My fate was determined. I would go to Mac’s house, have him pummel my hole for as long as he wanted and beg him for his undetectable load. I would love it and I would willingly take it, maybe even more than once. The excitement was overwhelming. I had to tell Mac. Getting on the computer, I saw that he was on-line, which he usually was. I told him that I had made the decision to take his undetectable loads, that I wanted it. However, I did make it very clear, through my wording, that I only desired the safer undetectable loads and that I didn’t really want to become poz, even though I knew somewhere deep in my gut that I really did want the more dangerous, highly-charged loads. He and I setup a fuck date for the following evening at 9 p.m.; I logged of, went to my couch, and jacked off. That night I shot multiple, intense loads thinking about the impeding breeding I would receive. That brings us back to my sitting in the jeep. My mind raced, looking at his house. Everything in my rational-self yelled to drive away and go back home to my safer practices, but I had made a deal with myself that I wasn’t about to break. I would follow through no matter what. I walked up to his front door and rang the bell. The door opened a bit, and the room beyond was dark and shadowy. A hairy, masculine hand appeared and urged me to enter. I complied. Stepping through the door, I entered his residence. I couldn’t see at all. Forms suddenly moved in the darkness. There were multiple men in this room. Terrified, I knew that something was wrong. I moved to go back through the door when several strong persons grabbed me from behind. A hood slipped over my head and cuffs snapped around my wrists and my ankles. I was thrown to the floor and a foot was placed upon my chest. I could feel that it was covered by a large army type boot. I heard several men laughing. Then I heard a masculine, low voice speak out above the others. “This is Mac. At least that is what I called myself while chatting with you. This isn’t even my house. I belong to a special group of individuals that provide a kind of service. You need not pay us or even request our assistance directly. We know what you want from chatting with you and we intend to see that you get it. However, we do it in our own special way. We like to play games. We like to let fate decide. Shall we begin boys? Shall we play a game?” The laughing resumed. “Oh, shit!” I thought. I had done it now. (To be continued)