leatherpunk16

Jessica Buchanan had it, and she had to have a liver transplant. Now she can't drink alcohol ever.

My late husband allowed me to be a ho almost from the start of our relationship. On our second date, we ended up in the Hole at Jackhammer (Chicago), and I ran into someone I knew. I had previously played with him several weeks earlier, and he asked me to fist him right there. He didn't know I was on a date, and after asking my guy, I went and fisted this dude again right in front of my guy. I thought he'd be upset, but he said "Do that to me when we get closer." In the two years we spent together, we'd play with other guys. Sometimes we'd play together, but my man always admitted to feeling inadequate afterwards. If one of us went to a leather/fetish event without the other, we would have a "hall pass" to play with whomever crossed our path. But he had dubious taste in men to say the least. Unfortunately this is what got him killed. He had an infatuation with a former gymnast who got him poppered up AFTER he had taken a little blue pill. I won't get into that depressing mess. So there CAN be unseen long-term consequences for couples who play with others and not their partner. I'm not advocating for monogamy here, or against it. But sometimes the partner needs to tell his guy "No, don't play with him. He's bad news" or "I've got a bad feeling about him."

B C has reasons I probably shouldn't get into publicly.

Celebrated my birthday yesterday. By remarkable coincidence, Fist Forward was held on the same day at SteamWorks Seattle. Surprisingly a light crowd, but most of us surmised it was because Dore Alley is also this weekend. It happens. So I was on the prowl a few times when the party wound down. I got to play in the gloryholes a couple times, which I never do, but it's where the action was. Got sucked on a couple times, but no one presented a butt. Then this young Latino fella fondles me in the hall. He shows me his meat, and it's decent. Also cut, and he drags me to his room. After the usual shpeel of my hole - I told him I was tight and not cleaned out - he bent me over the bed and fucked me. After an adjustment, I can't believe I'm typing this Fuck The guy PUTS ON A FUCKING CONDOM. 😒 I know this ain't the backroom, and I'll take the hit for points with saying this, but I stopped him and said, "Honey, no. I'm a bugchaser. No condoms or I walk." He laughed and bent me back over, unsnapped my neoprene harness with one hand, and resumed fucking. Surprisingly, this didn't irritate my hole. In fact, it felt better! Now we had some kind of glide, and it was working. He came, and lay against the wall. I sat up and looked at him, then at the offending plastic hanging off his wiener. Grabbed it, and was surprised it wasn't poopy or bloody. Pulled it off gently, and then emptied its contents into my mouth like a Go-Gurt tube. Salty but okay. A little glob of spunk. We parted. Later I bred a sex pig I've been flirting with on Asspig in the sling room. He's a poz fucker, and I told him to start the verbal bit as I got close. He didn't provide. But I emptied my balls. Happy birthday to me. The condom was a surprise, but I made lemonade out of it, and didn't hate it. Won't likely be doing that again.

Fuck your "bad". If you did something right, would you say "my good"? Fucking stupid useless phrase. Don't say it again.

Chapter 4 - A Sticky Situation Helixion Genetics- East Hallway, Building 3, Floor 1; REDACTED LOCATION. 21:15 MST 30-Oct-20XX The creature stood calmly as it watched the short green-haired man furiously scrape at his face, trying to wipe away the slimy spit it had just flung effortlessly at his face. A feeling of satisfaction flooded its mind, as the memory of being in a similar position not all that long ago echoed at the back of its mind. It knew that the chemical and hormone-laced fluid would make quick work of incapacitating its prey, as shock flooded his body, forcing a flood of adrenaline to flow through his veins, causing an inescapable increase in his heart rate, further speeding along the new chemicals in the process. A wicked smile spread across the monster’s face as it watched the smaller man ripping away his mask in a vain effort to free his face and further allow for him to wipe the foul saliva away. He watched as the green-haired man let out a few coughs, wiping hard at his eyes, not realizing the act was actually rubbing the chemicals further into his eyes, further allowing a quick route to the blood. Its former knowledge as a scientist told him that the various near-microscopic veins of the sclera would allow for an easy path to the brain. “Sticks… Seriously, man, you need to answer right now!” the frantic voice called out, normally barely audible to the average human, but somehow loud and clear with the creature’s near superhuman hearing. “What’s your 20?” A small, nearly insignificant part of the creature felt abject horror and sadness as he watched Sticks fight against the feelings while the saliva took hold. In its former life, it would have rushed the man to the nearest eye wash station, trying to clear out the concoction before it was too late, knowing that there was one just a short run away from here. However, this voice was snuffed out as he felt the presence now in control felt smug satisfaction. Finally clearing out his eyes, Sticks spit out the remaining saliva from his mouth as he looked up at the source, his eyes growing wide as he saw the source. “Oh fuck,” he said, his voice slow and thick, more likely to himself than to the creature, slowly backing away and hitting his back on the nearest wall. He let out a slight jump, the confused shock at hitting the wall distracting him slightly. The creature let out a large smile, feeling a sense of pleasure as he watched the man slowly look around, swaying almost drunkenly. It won’t be much longer now, it thought to itself, replaying the scene of its own infection, remembering the overwhelming feelings of euphoria and the massive head rush, the world taking on an almost ethereal soft glow. Colors were likely becoming more and more vibrant, taking on an almost cartoonish quality. The memory felt like it was from years ago to the creature as its mind drifted back to its own infection. He just barely remembered he had been a scientist on the third floor. A geneticist as it were. He’d only come in that day because their boss had demanded it, cutting his hard earned vacation short, and was annoyed at another one of the scientists calling in. “Stop thinking about pointless things and focus on your prey,” the entity in his brain demanded, its power sending a shudder through the creature’s body and the memory faded away. The voice was still echoing in its head, causing it to briefly clutch its head before shaking it off. Sticks crumpled to the floor, landing in a most undignified position with a soft thump. The abomination that just subdued him grinned menacingly, proud of itself for having caught some fresh meat. The creature in the lab coat on the opposite side of the now-bolted door continued to pound furiously on the glass, producing only dull thuds, enraged that someone else got what it felt rightfully belonged to him, but was powerless to do much about it now. The umbrella wedged between the wall and the door jamb held surprisingly well, and would not budge. The creature knew that the Alpha, as the entity demanded it be called, would be disappointed at the other one now stuck behind the door, but now that the prey was fully incapacitated, the creature found it didn’t care. Its guess was quickly confirmed as it watched its labcoat-clad brethren slump to the ground, clutching its head and squirming around, whimpering and choking on its cries. Sensing that Sticks was not alone in the building, the creature stood over him and opted to get his victim moved. It looked around for a solution, scanning its memory as he thought of a suitable place to go. Finally, it decided on a janitor closet to its right. Seizing Sticks in two mighty hands, it picked him up as if he were a delicate flower, and carried him into the closet. The young private was carefully dropped back to the floor of the closet, and the creature shut the door behind them. A small sliver of light beneath the door provided the only illumination. The closet smelled of acidic cleaning chemicals and a mildewing mop that sorely needed replacing. The creature began to undress Sticks roughly. It yanked his boots off and discarded them, leaving a pair of black socks on his feet which read “Fuck my socks off” around the top. With a harsh smile, the irony was not lost on the creature. It decided to leave them on for now, opting instead to continue with other more important areas. With a hard, frustrated yank around Sticks’s waist, the dark grey camo pants were removed in a flash. The sounds of a stray button to the pants popping off and hitting the ground echoed in the room. Its attention was briefly drawn to the button, catching the motion of it bouncing easily in the dark room. Then it got to work on the other clothing. The shirt proved trickier, and in the end, the thing drew his hand back. With a swift slice through the air, the shirt now bore the evidence of being slashed with a claw in a downward arc. Surprisingly, Sticks was physically undamaged by the shredding of his upper garments, the creature having an almost surgical precision with its claws. Sticks remained almost motionless on the hard stone floor, completely spaced out on the saliva cocktail that he was unable to remove before it seeped into his pores. All he could do was blink, the flood of neurochemicals effectively causing him to have a silent drug trip of sorts. With a sick curiosity, the creature wondered what the smaller man was feeling. Was he feeling the same abject horror the creature had during his own infection? Or had the chemicals already taken full control and given him that same warm feeling in his chest, causing that fear to drain away? Now that the toxic solution had begun to work its magic, Sticks felt like he was on a glorious acid trip. Having tried various illicit drugs as a teenage boy, common for growing up in the less reputable part of his hometown, he was fully aware what each drug felt like, and how each caused a different experience. But no matter what he experienced, he knew none of the hallucinations were real, and he knew he would be safe. This, however, was a wholly different experience. His mind felt like it had melted in his skull. With each heartbeat, he felt that warmth in his chest ebb outward, flowing into his limbs and leaving his head feeling like it was stuffed with cotton. His heartbeat thundered away in his ears, and he could feel his cheeks were flushed and hot. He knew he should be scared, that he should be fighting to get up, move, get away from the creature, but he found he not only couldn’t, but also that he was beginning to not care. His mind slowly took in the features of the massive creature above him. On first glance, one would think it was just a normal human man, its skin inky black with a slight shine even in the barely lit room. Bulging veins that throbbed with each slow heartbeat of the creature spread across its naked upper torso, spider webbing across almost like battle scars. The dim light of the room, mixed with the effects of the drug in his system, made every detail hard to distinguish. A smiler, Sticks thought. Now I get it. Instead of fear, he only felt curiosity, as the creature almost tenderly flipped him over, its forked tongue tasting the air much like the lizard his older brother had when they were kids. The cold hard floor felt soothing on his face, helping to drain away the heat as he felt the creature gently pull him into a position that he could only describe as vulgar. He wanted to laugh, knowing how erotic it must look, his tight round ass sticking up in the air, face and shoulders slumped on the ground. The cool air on his exposed hole felt nice. Shouldn’t I be worried in this position? Sticks thought to himself, feeling like he should be concerned but unable to bring himself fully to that. Suddenly, he felt the creature slowly run its hands along his pale skin, the sensation leaving ripples of pleasure as he felt the too-sharp claws lightly rake his skin, threatening to break the skin but not quite doing that. He let out a faint moan, loving how it felt, the cool skin of the creature contrasting the heat of his near feverish skin. He slowly began to focus on the sensation, letting his mind drift pleasantly. It barely registered in his mind when the massive creature looming over him began to drool on his exposed hole and that forked tongue began to breach him. Suddenly, an even stronger wave of euphoria flowed through him, causing him to let out a relaxed sigh. It was a truly blissful feeling, better than any poppers he had ever sniffed. A cleaner burn than smelling fresh paint, and a greater body high than any THC he ever ingested. His blurry eyes adjusted to the darkness, and Sticks looked back sluggishly. He could now make out dark soulless eyes, the claws that scratched his shirt, fangs revealed from the wicked-looking grin on its face, and what looked like small horns atop the forehead. Despite struggling to see more, in the near-darkness of the janitor closet there truly wasn’t much else to be seen. Sticks felt every muscle in his body relax, causing him to slump and the thing suddenly stopped moving. For a brief second, nothing was heard in the closet. Slowly, the creature let out a satisfied clicking growl, and pulled the strange tongue out of his ass. Sticks loud out a sad moan, missing the sensation and the continued waves of pleasure it brought. “Don’t ssssstoooop…. Pl…..pleeeease…. mmmmmooore…” Sticks whimpered, his mouth feeling cotton-filled, his tongue not wanting to move and feeling as though it was flopping around as he spoke. The feeling of the high started to slightly let up, allowing his muddled mind to attempt to form a few words. Then Sticks felt an incredible amount of pressure against his ass as the beast forced its engorged phallus inside him in one long solid push. It burned like a bad experience with spicy food, but quickly dissipated. Without any sort of wait, the creature began to vigorously fuck his ass, slamming deeply inside with each solid thrust. Sticks’s breath was short and gasping as he felt the pain of every single thrust. Damn, he thought. Even Lockjaw isn’t this hung or rough! The pain began to subside and shifted into pleasure as Sticks’s body adjusted to the size and rhythm of the unplanned activity. The creature fucked his new toy like he hadn’t been sexually active in years. Sticks found himself so relaxed, calm, and submissive. This was the best fuck of his life. As the copious amount of foul precum of the creature flooded his mind, he barely noticed as his thoughts took on an almost more sinister and cruel edge. I’ll have to tell Lockjaw it’s over between us, he thought, panting with his tongue flopping out of his mouth, as he compared the sheer unadulterated pleasure flooding his mind from this raw fucking to the amazing night before with the Major. He will never have the same skills as this fucker, Sticks admitted to himself. The creature’s animalistic abandon fed a primal urge growing in Sticks’s mind. He leaned further into the fucking, enjoying the pain and pleasure mixing in his brain, each thrust causing a new sensation. This is what breeding and destruction should feel like, his thought, relishing in the sheer depravity of the situation. While his mind wanted to egg the beast on and beg for its load, he didn’t have enough breath to get more than gasps and grunts out. Roughly, the monster flipped over Sticks while being deeply seated inside him, causing a new wave of pain and pleasure as he felt as if something tore inside him, his mind quickly masking what would feel like agony as something more blissful. The creature continued fucking the green-haired boy, quietly staring into his eyes the entire time. Sticks dared to look up at his rapist only once, and thought he could see his reflection in the beast’s blackened eyes. He barely recognized himself, and let his head drop back. The creature slowly began to run its too-long forked tongue along Sticks’ face, causing the smaller man to shudder in both fear and pleasure. They began to sweat together, and it formed a sticky puddle beneath them. But the beast didn’t last long in Sticks’s rectum, and then something new happened. Though neither one could see it happen, the creature’s girthy penis unsheathed tiny pinpricks from inside the foreskin. As the brutal thrusting continued, these little needles grazed and scratched the interior of Sticks’s hole, creating openings for the toxic brew that would be coming any second. Deep inside him, Sticks felt like something new was now stabbing him deep inside, easily puncturing the walls of his guts, causing his abdomen to feel like a fire was flooding him. Suddenly, the beast let out the same scream that Sticks heard earlier in the stairwell, and flooded his guts with a volley of infected spunk. Knowing he was good and fucked, in more ways than one, Sticks emptied his store of healthy cum from his balls, hands free. The suddenness of it caused him to thrash around in pain and pleasure. It was the most euphoric moment of his life: better than the childhood Christmas when he got a puppy. Better than graduating high school. Better than driving his jeep at top speed through the open country. Better than his acceptance into the military academy. No, this moment excelled all of them. Sticks began to hyperventilate from the overload of sensations, the dopamine hits, and the endorphins that were coursing through his veins. Then it felt like the end of a roller-coaster ride, and an immense wave of relief washed over him. The creature bent down and greedily slurped up the cum from his victim’s body, the forked appendage licking every surface where it landed. The creature slowly withdrew his penis, and let out a low, satisfied growl. “Mine now…” it said, satisfied, the voice almost shocking Sticks at the deep huskiness of it, almost making the air vibrate with how low it was. The smiler sat on the floor, panting, then stood to full height. Silently, it exited the room without any further words, leaving the door slightly ajar. A minute later, the door of the closet opened again, and Sticks saw that a new smiler had entered the room, and was slowly sniffing and licking the drying remains of his uncorrupted cum from his crumpled body. The first smiler had exited the closet, and went back to the glass double doors. It removed the bent umbrella from the door, and reopened the doors. The brother he stole Sticks from had apparently given up and left the scene. So it returned to the broom closet, and discovered one of its brethren had moved in on his prey. Annoyed, it pushed the other creature away, growling dangerously at the brother. He went to let out an angry warcry when he felt the sharp pain reverberate in his skull. “Share with your brother,” the Alpha’s voice echoed in his head, causing him to clutch his head in agony, feeling scared by its annoyed tone. “You’ll get plenty of time to enjoy him again in a bit.” Silently, it acquiesced, letting the brother pick up and carry the prey out of the small closet. The other retrieved the discarded clothing and boots, and held them like a prized trophy. Sticks felt himself floating up into the air as the corruption spread throughout his body. Closing his eyes, he fell back into a deep, blissful sleep. In reality, he was hoisted by the creature in two hands, and Sticks had simply passed out. It carried him out of the closet and into the hall, adeptly navigating toward the nest. The newly-infected brother needed time to complete his metamorphosis.

The guys I hook up with don't even mention status or level of protection at ALL anymore. We're there to fuck, and they're okay with whatever I don't know I have. The only condom discussions I've had in the past decade have been with my doctor.

In my experience, they decide they don't like the hole, so they go in search of others, and maybe finally pick one they DO like. I thought we were there to spread as much seed as possible! Go figure.

I've had a pissfuck only once, but I can't be sure it actually happened. One of my first regular fuckbuddies in Seattle did it. He was plowing me with his 9-inch Latin cock, and suddenly stopped to tell me "I'm pissing in you right now." I didn't feel a thing. He could have done it and not told me, and there wouldn't be any difference. There was no leakage, no warmth, no nuthin. Disappointing. Later I tried to push it out, but I just couldn't, so I don't know. Maybe it was just a tinkle and not a heavy flow. I expected water jets, and got a grade-school drinking fountain - you know, the kind where the water doesn't even have an arc and just dribbles out so you have to suck on the spout to get anything in your mouth.

Nope. Not a thing. I expected a wet feeling or a burn or something, but all I felt was the pain in my ass. Probably why I never became a cumdump.

Thanks. That's the plan. I wanted to create something that BZ has never seen before.

Have I already posted in here? I don't rember. @shannon-o-feral.bsky.social

Nope. No felched loads, either. When I plant my seed, it goes deep and doesn't leak. Plus it's not that much variety if I suck out my own deposits. And I have the wrong ombursure for eating ass.

If you wish discuss it in depth, write one of the authors. We might be able to tell you more without giving away the plot and development.

Would you believe I've never had the pleasure? I give decent head, but I keep getting men who can't cum from a BJ (if they cum at all). I've had to settle for licking up the remains from their groin and pubes, which feels less exciting and erotic.

My last fists given were at the monthly Fist Forward party at Steamworks. I always tag a few guys here, and since I'm too tight to receive any fists, I have no shortage of action. My favourite guy of this past time - which happened to be Pride weekend - was a skinhead buddy I've got sloppy with a few times. He and I have a lot of the same kinks, and this was one we hadn't done yet. He likes the stretch part of the fisting, not so much the depth. Regertably for him, I'm a depth pig. So I push him hard, and while he complains that he doesn't like to go deep, he also admits that it's fucking hot. I give him some quick in-and-out action (his fave), and gently try to push him to go deeper. I'm thinking he might also be a depth pig because I've seen no evidence of a rosebud or anything. Just a straight (or gay) tunnel. It's fun to push his limits. Now, get him in a pool of gunge and let me fist him with THAT. We'd be in pig heaven.

Chapter 2- No Turning Back Helixion Genetics- Building 3 Rooftop; REDACTED LOCATION 20:05 MST. 30-Oct-20XX Elias looked over at the Commander, before waving his arms to get everyone’s attention, pointing down at the radio on his hip and signaling to turn to channel one. Soon, everyone changed their radios over. “Okay… so the primary access point we had is clearly a no-go,” Elias said, gesturing at the door. “Any suggestions on how we get in?” “Are you serious? It looks like a gorilla attacked that door!” Patch yelled, causing the radios to screech at the loud sound, eliciting several muttered curses from the team. “I thought you said the animal research building was on the other side of the campus!” “Fuck, man, watch the volume,” Stag said, turning his head slightly. “If you’d have paid attention to the mission brief, you’d know it IS on the opposite side of this place. Besides, they only use specially bred mice here. I seriously fucking doubt a mouse did that to a door.” “Maybe it was an explosion in the building?” Sticks asked. “I mean, it would take a lot of force to do something like that, man. I doubt a person did it.” “No, we didn’t get any triggers like that from the environmental system,” Pixel said, before pointing to the fire alarm above them. “Besides, we’d hear that thing going off and see smoke coming from the building if that were the case.” “Again, men, task at hand,” Gravestone said, breaking up the conversation. “We need an entrance point. The doors are a no-go with the damage. Any suggestions?” “Maybe rappel down the side and break one of the windows?” Stag said, shrugging his shoulders. “Got to maintain the negative pressure and limit access,” Tex replied, shaking his head in disagreement. “Besides, these are blast-resistant windows. Whole campus is equipped with them, and they look to be over a half-inch thick. I think the brief said they replaced the entire campus a few years back when that ecoterrorism group tried to blow the place up.” “Elevator maintenance shaft,” Zero said, pointing over at the squat elevator equipment shack on to the right of the door. “That…. Could actually work,” Elias said, walking over to the small door on the side, barely coming to his hips. “I mean, it’s a tight squeeze, and we’ll have to override the controls and bring them to the top so we don’t have to lug back up the rappelling equipment. But… yeah, elevator shaft is the way to go here.” “Two small problems,” Tex said, pointing at the small door. “First, the entire building is under lockdown, so right now, every single pump in the building is running in negative pressure mode. Standard clean lab procedures.” “Shit… so that door is going to feel like it weighs probably 100 lbs, easily…” Stag replied, kneeling down and pulling on the handle, barely causing it to budge before it suctioned back shut. “I agree, shit. But that’s just half the first problem. The second we do get that thing open, the opening is going to turn into a giant wind tunnel as the pumps kick into overdrive. And once the door shuts, which we definitely will need to do to maintain a lockdown, there is going to be even more pressure on the door,” Tex continued, using his hands to gesture as he spoke. “Think of it like when you slam the door down on a chest freezer too fast. It creates a suction and makes it a real bitch to open. Put simply, that door is likely going to be a one-way trip. At least until we can get to the basement and shut down the air filtration pumps.” “Something we will have to tackle when the time comes,” Lockjaw said, sighing. “But you said we have two problems.” This time it was Elias who spoke up. “Yeah, it’s going to be dark. Like pitch black dark, and cramped. We’re essentially going to be going in blind, so someone is going to need to go first and cut the lock on the top of the elevator, then force open the doors so we can get a drone out there for some recon,” Elias said, his shoulders slumping. He didn’t like the idea of sending someone in on their own, glancing back at the door, his mind trying to work out who or what had damaged it like that. “Looks like you’re up, Zero,” Stag said, slowly taking a step back from the door. “Fucking asshole… doesn’t want risk his ass…” Elias could hear Tex mutter, the microphone picking it up crystal clear. “Hey, he’s the smaller of the two of us,” Stag retorted angrily. “No fucking way I’m going to fit easily in there AND be stealthy about it, fucker.” Elias stepped between the two, ready to stop a fight as the two stepped towards each other when Zero walked over to the door. “He’s right,” Zero said, before turning to Sticks. “Hand me a recon drone.” Sticks nodded, dropping his bag on the ground and opening it up, rummaging through it. “Pixel, can you tap into the elevator controls and move them to the top?” Elias said, walking around the squat shed before finally finding a control box. “Should be easy enough,” Pixel said, prying it open and pulling out a laptop and ethernet cable from his bag. “Just keep in mind, once I put it in maintenance mode, they won’t move. So that only leaves us with the stairwell.” “Sounds like that’s our best shot,” Gravestone said, dropping his bag on the ground, “While he’s working on that, I want everyone to load their weapons up with the maximum strength tranq rounds. We don’t know what we’re messing with, so I want us to be safe and run a clean mission. Understood?” The men replied in agreement and got to work loading the weapons. ——— “Fuck, this thing is a bitch to open!” Stag growled out, wedging the crowbar into the frame of the door, putting his body weight against it before finally breaking the seal. Air suddenly began to whistle through the thin opening, sucking a few stray leaves in like a vacuum cleaner. Taking the opportunity, Elias and Tex grabbed the door, and slowly pulled it open, the sound of wind rushing through the opening picking up immediately. The opening was pitch black as the dying evening sunlight failed to penetrate into the elevator shaft. Aiming their weapons and lights on the opening, Zero took a quick look inside, ducking his head in. “Looks clear,” his soft voice said before he climbed in, crawling in and shuffling across the metal mesh floor before flicking on the light in his hazmat suit. “Going in.” The wind continued to whistle through the small door as Elias watched the video feed on his tablet, streamed from the camera on Zero’s hood. Slowly, the man looked around before finally crawling to the top of the elevator car, looking down at the roof to the access door. Grabbing the bolt cutter beside him, he quickly snapped the metal of the lock, gently setting the tool down and removing the lock. Zero opened the small panel and blinked at the bright lights of the small car before expertly lowering himself in. To the right, a large touchscreen displaying a spinning 3D copy of the Helixion logo glowed, with a large red MAINTENANCE MODE: ACCESS LIMITED underneath. “Open the doors, Pixel,” Zero said quietly, drawing his weapon and aiming it at the center of the door. Elias looked over quickly at Pixel, giving a nod as he watched the man tap a few things on the touchscreen of his laptop, before turning his attention back to the tablet’s feed. The gleaming metal of the elevator doors silently opened, revealing a dimly lit hallway, surrounded by fresh white walls, freshly waxed vinyl wood floors, and large frosted glass doors, a small electronic screen beside each to denote the room number and designation. “Releasing the drone,” Zero called out softly, before returning to an aiming stance. “You’re up, Sticks,” Elias said, nodding at the young tech. Sticks nodded in acknowledgement, and began steering a drone by way of a remote control. His movements were careful and precise; he didn’t need to see the machine to know how it felt and what it was doing. With the tap of the screen, Elias’ feed switched to the camera of the small helicopter drone, watching as it gracefully swept through the halls, only a small buzzing sound giving its position away. Unnervingly, nothing looked out of place. Every spot looked clean and tidy. No dropped papers. No busted doors. Not even a speck of dirt on the ground. The team sat in silence watching the feed as Sticks continued to loop, finally making the full circuit and stopping at the elevator. “All clear,” Elias said, firming himself as he spoke, “Let’s roll in. Take it slow and watch for any sharp edges in the shaft. We haven’t cleared the air safety test yet.” The team slowly entered the shaft one at a time, making their way into the elevator car before stepping out into the hallway, Gravestone only gave a quick nod to Elias as he went in, signaling Elias to pull the door shut. The door slammed shut, the suction of the air easily pulling it closed, the metal sound reverberating through the confined space and echoing down the elevator shaft. Elias froze in place, half-expecting a yell or some roar to rip across the deafening silence that followed. He was met, however, with just more silence as he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Slowly, he followed behind Gravestone, before gently lowering himself down into the elevator. They both stepped off the elevator and into the hall. “Tex, Patch, how are the air quality readings?” Elias asked, hoping they were still clear. His gut told him he didn’t want to risk being partially blind in the massive hazmat suit. “All clear. Local sensor is showing green, with just pollen from the outside air we let in. Still negative on the main sensors down in the labs,” Tex said, looking at the tablet screen. “Best guess is that whatever we’re dealing with is not airborne. Schematics show this lab is only rated at BSL-2, so they shouldn’t have anything airborne here.” “As long as they told us the truth,” Patch added, slowly packing back up the local air quality tester. “Well, so far everything is checking out and matching perfectly with what we were told, so I think we’re good to de-suit,” Tex said, slowly pulling off his helmet. “Still want everyone to keep the eye protection and gloves on. We’ll have to switch to the standard radios as these are stitched into the suit.” The team quickly shucked the suits off, leaving them in the elevator before re-situating themselves. “Ok, time to split the team up. Stick to the original plan. Recon Team 1, to the north labs. Recon 2, you’ll both be with me to the south,” Gravestone said, holding his tactical rifle in one hand, and pointing with the other at the general directions. “Recon 3, try to find access to the servers and see what we might be messing with here. See if we can also get camera access. I don’t want us walking around blind. We meet back here at the 15 like planned. Report anything you see out of the ordinary.” Splitting up, Elias, Tex, and Zero took a left and began walking down the hall, slowly checking each room they encountered, each one dark and empty. A computer, clear glass desk, occasionally some stray papers or nicknacks on the desk. One office had a rather sickly looking ficus in one corner. Finally, they made it to the stairwell door. “Think we should take a look?” Tex said, pointing at the door. “Well, better to find out what it might be…” Elias said, letting his voice trail off, part of him wanting to avoid the stairwell. “I’ll cover. Allow for safe evac if needed,” Zero said, nodding and standing at alert, aiming the rifle at the door. “That settles it, I guess…” Elias said, taking a deep breath in and slowly blowing it out before pressing the talk button on his earpiece radio. “This is Recon 1, we’re going to enter the stairwell shaft and check the other side of the doorway. See if we can get some idea of what we’re dealing with. Permission to proceed?” “Granted. Use extreme caution and report back in 5 minutes,” Gravestone’s voice replied over the earpiece, static punctuating the end of his reply. “Copy. Entering now, Recon 1,” Tex replied, before slowly pushing open the door, letting Elias and Zero enter before softly letting the door close. Nodding silently in the softly lit stairwell, Zero took a stance at the top of the stairs leading down as Tex and Elias quietly climbed up the stairs, guns aimed upwards. Taking the stairs quickly and silently, both men relaxed as they turned the last flight of stairs only to be met with the empty stairwell and the outward bowing metal doors. “What is that…” Tex said, slowly letting his gun down and walking up to the door. Quickly, he reached into a pouch on his tactile belt and produced a small test tube. Popping the top, he slowly scraped it along the door, which appeared to be covered in a clear slime. Filling it halfway, he handed the first tube to Elias, who held it up to the light. What at first appeared to be clear slime actually had a slight whitish appearance. Taking a small sniff of the air, Elias nudged Tex with his elbow, getting his attention. “You smell that?” he asked, looking around. Something about it seemed familiar, but Elias couldn’t put his finger on it. “Yeah, seems… familiar. Definitely a ripe funk to it. Almost like a locker room maybe?” Tex said, sniffing and scrunching his nose. “Something else I can’t really identify. Almost an alkaline smell. Also has a medicine or solvent smell. A lot stronger the closer you get to the door.” “Yeah… making my face feel flush… like smelling a marker or something,” Elias agreed, forcing himself not to touch his nose. “You definitely do seem like the type to smell markers as a kid,” Tex said, putting a stopper on the second sample before grabbing the first back from Elias. “You really think now is the time to joke around…” Elias said, glaring at Tex. “Left yourself open for that one,” Tex said, smiling. “Just trying to make the situation a little less tense here.” Walking back down the stairs quickly, they waved at Zero before motioning back at the door. Zero softly opened the door and held it as the three men exited back out into the bright hallway. “Recon 1, Upper stairwell all clear, found a clear biological sample for testing on the surface of the door,” Elias said after the door fully closed with a soft click. “We’re going to check the first lab for a mass spectrometer and get it running before coming back to the rendezvous point.” “Copy, let us know when you are on the way back,” Lockjaw replied, as the three continued the walk down the hall. Finally, they made it to the first lab and entered, looking around. The door outside denoted it as a general lab. Several long bays ran along the middle of the room, with standard lab equipment on each side. A few test tubes sat inside the large vent hood on one wall. Otherwise the lab was empty, save for a computer in the corner, the same twirling helix logo as the elevator bouncing across the screen. Stepping out, they walked further down the hall before stopping in front of a room labeled Hydroponics 3. Opening the door, the three men were greeted with row after row of large bushy plants, a small breeze blowing across them as the red and blue LEDs glowed above them. Suddenly, Elias noticed a shoe peeking out from behind the last plant in the row. Silently, he motioned at the other two men and pointed at the end, holding his gun at the ready. The three men glided in silence towards the end of the room before finally turning the corner. “Don’t move! Hands where I can see them and lay flat on the ground!” Elias commanded, aiming the gun directly at the face of the man crouching behind the plants. “Fuck! Please don’t tell me you’re one of them,” the man cried out, holding his hands up. The man on the ground fell backwards, slamming his ass on the ground as he shivered. His business suit was missing an arm, and the white undershirt below was half ripped off, the hastily loosened tie looked rumpled as if someone had grabbed it hard during a fight. Sweat covered his forehead as he looked back and forth rapidly between the three men. A name badge hung loosely off the lapel of the suit. Elias looked down, reading the name tag; Johnathan Blaine, Military Corporate Liaison, it plainly stated, the photo on it showing the same man before him, albeit with a smirk on his face and wearing a different suit. “Please, don’t shoot. I’m not one of them! We have to get out of here or they’ll find us,” the man blubbered, looking between the three. “Recon 1, survivor in Hydroponics Lab 3. Recommendations, Commander?” Zero asked, turning his head slightly as he talked with his hand to the earpiece radio. “Oh, thank god! You’re military! I work with the military here, you’re here to save me, right?” the man asked, his voice jittery and nervous. “I’m Jack. I called and you came. We can leave. Nothing left. I knew my father wouldn’t leave me here. They said he would… but I knew…. I KNEW….” Elias stood silently for a second as he thought back to the mission brief, trying to remember the names on it. A tiny flicker of unease and simultaneous dread suddenly settled on him. “We’re coming to you, stay in place,” Gravestone’s voice replied sternly on the radio. “He look like he’s infected?" “Your father? Why would your father send in the military?” Tex asked warily. “He’s the CEO’s son. I remember the name from the brief,” Elias said, finally piecing it together. “Unknown. Seems very jittery and is sweating, has some torn clothing, but seems like he’s otherwise fine, just… acting really off,” Zero replied, still loosely holding the gun aimed at the rumpled man. “I swear, I’m fine. They tried to catch me but I got away,” Jack anxiously explained, sniffling occasionally and trying to get up and show his bare arm. “See! Look! Not a scratch! I didn’t even let them kiss me, cuz I’m not a dirty homo like him.” Elias’s expression changed almost imperceptably to mild surprise. “We said don’t move and stay on the ground!” Tex suddenly barked, aiming the gun intensely at the man, pressing the barrel hard into the man’s chest, causing him to clamp his mouth shut and slump back to the ground. “Please, you have to believe me,” Jack moaned, scooting slightly away until his back hit the wall of glass behind him. “I don’t have the teeth! Even my skin is skin color!” “Just… stay down. We’ll let you back up once we have a medic check you out,” Elias said, looking around for a brief moment before nudging Tex with his elbow. Elias motioned his head over at the large white machine on the counter to the right of the man. “Is that a mass spectrometer on the counter, sir?” Elias asked, turning his attention back at the man and motioning his gun toward the machine. “I… I don’t know… that’s something the eggheads in the labs could tell you… but they can’t help you now… they’re all smilers now,” Jack said, twitching a little as he spoke. “Yeah, looks like a top of the line model,” Tex said, glancing over at the machine. “Which you would think the boss would know. Guy’s acting… fuck, I don’t know.” “Yeah… Tex, let’s go start running the samples in the machine,” Elias said, aiming the gun at Jack. “Zero, give the man a bottle of water. You can take it from my bag.” Zero nodded, getting to work grabbing the bottle of water from the side holder, before tossing it at the man, who quickly opened the bottle and gulped the contents down before tossing it to the side. Jack brought his knees to his chest and started rocking back and forth, scratching at his arms occasionally and looking around at the ceiling, his eyes darting around. Jack began to mutter to himself. “Not here. Safe from the spit. Have to hide. No Jack, no lab, no monsters, no no no no no…” To Elias and Tex, Jack’s prattle was indistinct but audible, and continuous like a fugue state. Zero kept his weapon trained on the delirious man. Tex and Elias stepped over to the mass spectrometer, quickly trying to get it working. “Fucker seems truly out of his gourd,” Tex whispered, pulling out the two samples and quickly opening the tops as Elias grabbed a testing tray. “‘My skin is skin color… I don’t have the teeth? I wouldn’t let them kiss me?’ He’s not really making much sense. Clearly is a homophobe. And what the fuck did he mean about smilers? And spit?” “I don’t know,” Elias sighed, watching as Tex took a pipette and quickly added the samples in before putting them in the machine. “He almost acts like he’s on something. Drugs, maybe? A psychotic break?” The machine whirred to life and began to analyze the sample’s chemical composition. “I’d almost say he looks like a junkie looking for his next fix…” Tex replied, his shoulders slumped. “I mean, look at the signs: Sweaty, super agitated and looks like he hasn’t slept in a few days. Probably hallucinating. Keeps twitching, too. I mean, we’ll need Patch to do a work up on him, but… yeah, I think he’s coming down off something.” A loud knock broke the tense silence, causing Tex and Elias to jump. “Don’t let him in! I- I need a flashlight. He controls them with his mind, you know. And he looks like you and me, but he’s not. A smiler too, but he doesn’t have their eyes!” Jack moaned, rocking back and forth even faster, hugging his knees tight against himself, and hiding his face in his knees. “Cavalry’s here,” Zero said quietly, looking over at the door as the team quickly entered the lab.

Chapter 1: Into the Hot Zone Helixion Genetics- Main Corporate Meeting Room; REDACTED LOCATION. 19:42 MST. 30-OCT-20XX “Okay, men, listen up,” Commander Nathan Briggs said, addressing the team of soldiers in front of him. At 52 years old, his time in the Biohazard Threat Response Division had taken a toll, causing his jet black hair to start greying prematurely. This earned him the call name “Gravestone,” a morbid joke among his team, who quipped he looked ready for one. His 6 foot 2 inch frame was starting to get a bit of a dad bod, but still he attracted the ladies easily with the muscular frame underneath (and a few men who are still recovering from severely broken hearts when they found out he was married and straight). Beside him stood his second-in-command, 34 year old Major Elias “Reaper” Kade, a 6ft tall, dark wavy brown hair and deep blue-eyed man, with well-defined muscles contained behind the black tactical shirt. “Let’s go over the plan of entry, and designated roles one last time. The main goal here is recon. Assume any survivor we find is infected. They are to be detained and held in isolation on exit. Hazmat teams are setting up the temporary holding trailers as we speak. Reaper, you’re up.” Also in the room were seven other men, all part of the elite Black Sigma Team. Looking at each one, Elias mentally reviewed each man. Sitting at the conference table was 27 year old Lieutenant Mason “Zero” Hawke, 5 ft 8 inches tall with short blonde hair with piercing grey eyes, known to the team for his ability to pass lie detector tests with no heart rate change, barely speaking to anyone due to some unknown trauma he suffered during his time in special ops. Next to him was 34 year old Lieutenant Tobias “Tex” Vahn, the resident virologist and chemical weapons expert. He was called Tex due to his thick Texan accent. Originally their civilian CDC expert, he’d been brought over to the proverbial dark side when funding for the CDC had dried up during the post-COVID era. Tobias was also the only member of the team that Elias trusted enough to come to his wedding, coming over regularly for game night with him and his new husband, Trevor. Trevor and Tobias were good friends from college, both graduating from Washington University in St. Louis. Beside him was 24 year old Corporal Jae “Pixel” Yun, on permanent loan from the South Korean military. 5’9 with dark brown eyes and black buzzed hair, he was the lead tech expert of the group; there were whispers among the men that his parents were secretly the owners of a major Korean tech company. However, Elias had yet to find any link there. Pixel and Sticks had become best friends, often bonding over one game or another, or some anime. Both were definitely the babies of the group. Which led him to Private First Class Eric “Sticks” Barlow, across the table from Pixel. At 20, he was the true baby of the group, and knew how to use it to his advantage. Barely coming up to barely Elias’ chin, he stood at a mere 5 foot 2 inches. A true prodigy when it came to electronics and coding, he had been a direct hire straight out of West Point. Somehow he’d managed to talk the Commander into keeping his hair dyed a bright, neon green with black undertones. Elias liked to think of him as the puppy of the group. Next up was 28 yr old Specialist Cole “Patch” Hannigan, the field medic of the team. He was second-newest to their team, with this being their first real deployment in the field after 6 months of training. Standing at 5 foot 11 inches, the guy was the chubbiest of the group, having been reassigned to the team after pissing off a commanding officer. Nobody knew what for exactly, but whatever it was, it had to be bad in Elias’ book. Last at the table was 30 year old Lieutenant Bryce “Stag” Mercer, the resident asshole and bullshitter of the group. 6 foot 1 inches tall, he was lanky with fiery red hair, pale skin and freckles. Previously he was the lead recon specialist of the group and former second in command, but after being caught pocketing some particularly gruesome photos from one of their missions, Gravestone had decided to put him on strict probation. His nickname came from his ability to stay in one spot almost eerily like a statue for hours at a time, like a deer in the woods. Elias cleared his throat, pleased as the group watched him with a respectful and quiet expectation. This would be his first true second-in-command position on the team. Part of him feared the men would never respect him, as only a few on the team knew he was gay, let alone had just gotten married. Pushing down his fears, he began to speak. “What we know so far is that at approximately 15:30 local time yesterday, a manual biohazard alarm was triggered in one of the labs in building three, on level sub level 5… as seen here on the map,” Elias said, aiming a laser pointer at the projected map on the wall. “Air quality sensors indicate no detected contamination, but still I’m going to stress that we at least enter wearing full BSL-4 until further testing can be done on site. This is a DARPA-funded bio lab, so anything could be down there. Lockjaw, anything to add on Tactical?” Major Adrian Reese, or as the team knew him, Lockjaw, stood off to the side, his jaw clenched in a permanent scowl from nerve damage he received a few years prior. 47 years old and standing at a towering 6 foot 5 inches, he was tall and muscular, with short buzzed brown and grey hair and a steely dark grey pair of eyes. All Elias knew was that Lockjaw and Gravestone went back to the “Berlin days” as the two cryptically referred to them, not sharing much information other than that. “Contact has been lost since the moment the alarm was triggered and the building is in full lockdown. Since we have no idea what we’re really dealing with, it’ll be standard clearance of each floor. The lab has 10 floors in total,” Lockjaw said, waving his hand to the map on the wall. “We’ll be entering the building on the roof. Each team will consist of three men. Patch, Pixel, and Sticks, you’ll be closest to the elevators and stairs in the core of the building. Your jobs are to maintain communications, and get into the company mainframe to see if we have any information to work off of. Company liaison doesn’t know what we could be dealing with due to the nature of the project, and access is still being worked on from our DARPA contact. Tex and Zero, you’ll be on the north side with Reaper where the labs are. Stag, you’re with me and the commander on the south where the offices are.” “We clear each floor and regroup at the elevators before moving to the next floor down as a team,” Elias continued. “Once the air quality is confirmed, you can take off the respirators, but we want to keep this clean, so maintain at least BSL-3 gear.” “We should expect at least 27 male bodies in the building,” Gravestone added. “It looks like the female scientists were at a conference for women in STEM, which has been confirmed by the company liaison here on site. Full lockdown has been initiated in the building, so once we get in, we won’t be getting back out until the lockdown is lifted or someone from outside lets us out. Expect quite a few locked doors and rolling fire doors to be in the way.” “We’re going to take this slow and check in every 15 minutes. Report anything you find as soon as you can,” Elias added. “And most of all, play it safe. We don’t need to lose anyone on this mission. This is a civilian lab with government funding, so we shouldn’t expect any real pushback from any survivors here, but don’t hesitate to use force to keep safe. Got it?” Elias was met with a few small murmurs and nods from the team as everyone started getting up, pulling on their tactical packs and checking the fit on their respirators. Elias turned his attention as Gravestone came over and patted him on the shoulder “Good work on the briefing, Eli,” Gravestone said, giving his shoulder a slight shake. “I knew you’d be a perfect fit for the job. This looks like a pretty easy in and out job, so we will get you home in time for breakfast with the husband. Dr. Trevor Bingham, isn’t it?” A slight flush spread on Elias’ cheeks, feeling slightly embarrassed as he realized that his commanding officer did in fact know he was gay and married. His husband Trevor and even his team mate Tex had said he should just tell him - that it wouldn’t be a big deal. That he should be proud of who he was and that he deserved to be in this position. “Oh, well… uh… I didn’t know you…” Elias stammered, unsure what to say. “Who do you think signs off on your benefits paperwork?” Gravestone said, nonchalantly checking his fit on his back, and for any openings on the seals around his suit. “Denise wants you both over for dinner soon. Besides, you know our youngest, Mason, is gay, right? Just so you know, Tex was right… I wouldn’t have cared.” He shrugged his shoulders quickly in a non-chalant way. “Th….. thanks sir… I… thank you,” Elias stammered as realized that he’d put himself through untold amounts of stress… for nothing apparently. Sighing out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he walked over to the large double glass doors to the conference room and stood beside Tex as the others filtered out of the room. “Good work on the briefing, by the way,” Tex said, smiling as he gave a once over on Elias’ biohazard gear. “So, you and the commander have a fun chat just now?” Elias gave Tex a flat stare, unsure whether to strangle the man or give him a big hug. “When did he ask you?” Elias sighed resignedly. “Two weeks before your super secret wedding, bud,” Tex said, a shit-eating grin spread across his face. “You seriously didn’t look at the wedding gifts, did you?” Elias stared at Tex expectantly, waiting for further explanation. “Who do you think got you guys the espresso machine…” Tex said, taking a quick glance at the commander. “Didn’t you even read the gift card?” “Fuck…. No… I just thought it was from one of his coworkers at the hospital. Trevor is working on the thank you cards right now,” Elias groaned. “Damn it. We are definitely gonna have to have dinner with him and his wife. So… the commander is more of a wine guy, or a scotch guy?” “Neither. Cigars and bourbon for him, cake from that bakery just outside the base for the wife, and make sure you bring something fun and unique for the kids,” Tex said, satisfied on his inspection of the biohazard suit. “I owe you,” Elias said, sighing as he began to shove the massive hood of the suit on his head, adjusting the earpiece and microphone in the process. “How you thought you could get away with keeping it from him is lost on me, bro. Didn’t you think it was odd how he didn’t even bat an eye at your request for a week off? Well… I guess you can pay me back by giving me the details on what you walked in on yesterday in the ‘barracks’,” Tex said, grinning. Knowing that he would need to talk in private about it, Elias simply held up six fingers and pointed at the radio on his right hip. With an exaggerated rolling of the eyes, Tex threw his hood on as well and the pair started walking with the group across the sprawling grassy lawn in the center of the laboratory campus. “So, what’s the piping hot T, sis,” Tex’s voice filled his right ear, the crackle of the plastic suit punctuating each of their movements as they walked. “Oh my god… Just stop… Cultural appropriation. Only gay guys can talk like that,” Elias rejoined, trying not to laugh at Tex. “I’m waiting, guuuurl, and it best be hotter than last week’s Untucked,” Tex continued, doing his best to lay on an even, thick Texan accent. “Oh God… why am I friends with you… Thank fucking god this radio channel is encrypted right now…” Elias muttered before continuing. “So… you know how I was supposed to do the barracks check last night?” “I’d hardly call a Vegas hotel “barracks”, but… continue,” Tex said, gesturing his puffed up arm as the two began getting closer to the gleaming glass and metal building looming ahead, a large well lit 3 glowing on the side of it in the pale light. The two followed behind the group as they began to walk around to the back of the building towards a well-guarded fire escape. Both nodded at the two heavily armed soldiers wearing full respirators and shuffled into the cordoned off utilities area. “So, I went and finished checking on everyone. Couldn’t find Barlow… I mean Sticks, and Pixel said something about him going down to the gift shop for something… candy I think… and I got back to the room I’m sharing with Lockjaw,” Elias explained, waiting behind the team as one by one they began to climb the ladder. “Ok… so what…” Tex said, shifting from one foot to the other anxiously. “Still afraid of heights, huh,” Elias said, laughing slightly. “It’s only 40 feet off the ground we’re climbing.” “Shut the fuck up man and distract me with the story, because if I fall, I’m taking you with me,” Tex grumbled. “So, I got back to the room quicker than I thought and heard some noises coming from Lockjaw’s side of the suite,” Elias continued as he watched Tex shakily grab the first rung of the ladder. “Called out for him and got no reply. So I went in there to check on him. You know, I worry about the guy.” Slowly they began to climb up, stopping occasionally as a member of the team held up the group climbing off the ladder with the heavy gear on their backs. “Well, anyways, I go in the room… empty. So I check the ensuite bathroom… and I swear to fucking god… this stays between us…” Elias said, grunting slightly as they continued climbing. “Sure man,” Tex said, his voice carrying a slight nervous inflection as he quickly replied. “No, I’m fucking serious, man. I will pull you off this ladder myself and let you fall to your death on the ground if you share a fucking word of what I’m going to tell you,” Elias said, gritting the words out as they began climbing again. “Fuck…. Fine… I promise…” Tex said, gripping on the ladder tightly as they stopped again. Satisfied at putting the fear of God in his friend, Elias continued. “So… um… apparently I’m not the only gay on the team,” Elias said, glad to see that they had finally made it halfway up the building. “Oh shit… holy… The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Tex said, his voice quivering as his foot slipped on one of the rungs and began flailing in the air. Sighing, Elias grabbed Tex’s foot and firmly planted it back on the rung. “It means… -grunt-… I walked in on Lockjaw and Sticks fucking like a pair of bunnies in the shower,” Elias said, helping Tex finally pull his legs over the half wall on the side of the building before finally bringing up the rear. “No fucking way,” Tex said, bent over and holding his knees, panting. Elias’ mind went back to the night before, when he had walked into the bathroom of the shared hotel suite and caught Lockjaw and Sticks in the act. —---- The night before... Elias had just entered the room when the sound of someone grunting in the bathroom beyond hit his ears. Did he slip and fall in the shower? Elias thought to himself as he rushed to the door. He stuck his head in about to speak when he took in the sight. Lockjaw was kneeling on the floor of the tiled shower, hips thrusting in time almost like a metronome, his back facing the doorway as steam and water barely blocked the view on the glass shower wall and door. Heavy, low hanging balls swung in time to the strokes, slapping occasionally against the smaller framed man in front of him… Sticks. Slowly, Lockjaw slid his hands across the wet, water-slicked back of Sticks, before finally resting his hands to be wrapped around Sticks’s small, graceful neck. The wet smacking sounds of Lockjaw’s thighs connecting with the back of Sticks’s echoed in the small room. Elias stepped back into the shadow of the room and watched as the two continued fucking rough and hard. “Fuck… Destroy my hole, fucking pound my tight boy ass into oblivion,” Sticks’s moans echoed out of the bathroom. “Fucking breed me like a bitch, daddy.” Elias’ eyes bulged as he watched Lockjaw pull most of the way out of the slimmer blond man’s ass, before spitting on his dick and slamming deeply back in. Lockjaw’s hands wrapped tightly around Sticks’s neck, squeezing tightly. The taller, older man slammed as hard as he could. For a second, Elias considered interrupting, fearing that the younger man would be seriously injured. “Yeah, you fucking love taking daddy’s giant load in your pussy, don’t you bitch,” Lockjaw growled out. “You want daddy to plant a nice thick load deep in this hole and make you his, don’t you boy?” “Fuck…. Yes, daddy, fucking choke me and destroy my ass,” Sticks replied, moaning deeply as Lockjaw changed his angle of attack on his strokes. “Make me your boy. Breed my ass and claim it.” Lockjaw’s strokes began to falter slightly in their regularity, but somehow he slammed even harder in the small blond’s ass. “Yeah, you fucking want daddy’s swimmers deep in there, don’t you, baby,” Lockjaw moaned. “Make that tight boy hole ooze my load for days with how much cum is gonna flood your guts. Make you send me pictures of you fingering my thick load back into your cumdump.” Suddenly, Lockjaw grabbed Sticks’s face and turned to him before locking lips. “Oh fuck, daddy, I’m gonna cum,” Sticks groaned, suddenly breaking the kiss. “Please give me your load, please shoot it deep in me!” “Oh fuck, baby, here it comes,” Lockjaw groaned, suddenly pushing as hard as he could into the smaller man, intent on burying his cum load deep in his ass. “Here. It. Comes!” Suddenly, Sticks’s cock shot volley after volley of thick cum across the shower floor. Slowly, the two straightened up, and Sticks turned around slightly, making out deeply as Lockjaw slowly stroked the last remaining drops of cum out of Sticks’s dick. Slowly, Lockjaw brought the cum-covered fingers to his mouth, licking the cum off of them before locking lips with Sticks again. Elias was shocked to see the size of cock the smaller man was carrying, his smaller frame making the size seem even bigger. Slowly, he backed away, before quickly making his way swiftly out of the shared hotel room. A short elevator ride to the gift shop and then out to the pool, Elias shakily lit up a cigarette. It had been six months since he quit, a promise to Trevor, an ultimatum for their marriage so to speak. But damn it, he needed it after what he had just seen. His cock was still raging hard in his pants as his mind kept replaying the events over and over. Suddenly, the voice of Commander Briggs knocked him out of the loop in his mind. “Okay there, soldier?” Gravestone asked, his gravelly deep voice said, causing Elias to nearly physically jump. “Oh, um. Yeah. Sure,” Elias replied, quickly trying to smooth over his emotions. “Just nerves, I guess.” Grabbing the lighter from Elias, Gravestone deftly lit the cigar he was holding, bringing it to life with ease. “Thanks, forgot mine upstairs,” Gravestone said, breaking the silence. Unsure what to do, Elias quickly put the cigarette out on the railing surrounding the pool. “I’m gonna head back up,” Elias said. “Try and get some sleep before we go back on duty tomorrow.” “Have a good one, then,” Gravestone replied, pulling out his phone as Elias walked back into the hotel. He snapped a selfie with the fat cigar in his jaw. Hopping on the elevator, Elias rode it in silence, trying to will himself to stop thinking about what he had just seen between his two teammates. Suddenly the door opened and Sticks stepped in. “Oh, hey Major,” Sticks said, his normal bright, bubbly attitude beaming as he spoke. “Got lost on my way back from the pool. Wrong floor.” Suddenly, Elias thought back to all the times he had bumped into Sticks getting off on the wrong floor, forgetting what side of the building he was on. This clearly has been going on for a long time, Elias thought to himself. “Cool, um… just get plenty of rest,” Elias said lamely. “Oh, I will… I’ve just got to work on my back stroke,” Sticks chuckled, before pressing the button for his floor. “Have a good one, Major!” Elias felt a blush spread across his face as he walked back to the room and went over to his room in the suite, hearing the soft sound of Lockjaw snoring coming from his partially open door. That night, Elias jacked off furiously several times, replaying the scene in his head, until finally drifting off to sleep in the sperm-covered sheets. —- The present… “Yes fucking way…” Elias replied to Tex. “Just don’t say anything…” “No man… look…” Tex said, pointing up at the metal security door that led from the roof top to the main stairwell of the building. Elias’ mind briefly went back to what he had read in the briefing. The exterior door was a steel door, rated for 2.5 hours of fire protection. The strongest they make. Elias walked over and slowly ran his hand along the door, pushing in the center on the off chance that maybe the door was just really weak. It didn’t budge when he pressed hard. Which made whatever had slammed hard into the door… strong. The center of the door bowed out, like someone had repeatedly slammed a sledge hammer into the center in a desperate attempt to get out or escape something inside the building. Somehow, the door had withstood the onslaught. “What in the fuck…” Elias said, unable to contain his disbelief.

Author’s Note #1: It gives me great pleasure to introduce a new and original story entitled The Master Pathogen. This is a first for BZ - a collaboration between myself and @kspozcum, whom you know from his current stories The Bareback Chronicles and My Education of the Summer. I’ve ever written only one story for BZ, a little first-wave distraction from five years ago called You Asked For It!, and I didn’t intend to write more poz fiction. This new story came about as I intended to finish another story that had been abandoned, and I asked @kspozcum to work on it with me. Finding it restricting and pigeon-holed based on its origins, we eventually scrapped it and made our own story. The result is a much more cohesive tale, science-backed, characters with personality, all peppered with real-life experiences. While inspired by other things, it is not a derivative work or a continuation of anything. Not only was the pitcher replaced, but it got filled with stronger booze. LOL Working on this has been so fulfilling and a joy to create. He and I will be here to field questions and comments, and you may write to either of us privately if you want to discuss something about the story in depth. We’ll try to give it weekly updates, and to get you started, we’re giving you TWO chapters. It’s a mixture of gay military fiction, biomedical thriller, and poz fiction disguised as body horror. It does lean more into the drama than the sex, but the sex is pretty visceral and intense, so don’t worry about that. @kspozcum will have the next post, followed by the first instalment. We hope you enjoy our collaborative efforts. - leatherpunk16

I had my first chariot race just a couple weeks ago. Was at a fisting party with eight other guys. The two best-looking ones asked me to do it in the bedroom area of the playspace, and off we went. It was not as hot as it sounded. I wanted to be into it, and it was kinda fun for a minute or two. Then I wanted to do other things - I found I couldn't really go very deep with either, and finding the coordination between them just wasn't happening for me. Confused the hell out of my brain. I can pat my head and rub my stomach at the same time, but this was something else. I'm surprised I didn't get my dick caught in the ceiling fan during this.

A

Smells are not really my thing. I have an overdeloped old factory sense, and I notice scents that don't even register with many people. Curious thing, I keep wearing the same jockstrap at the gym. I've sweated in it, and had piss dribble, and hormones, and even blown my spunk into it a few times. I'm hoping that this scent will be obvious to others, but all I can smell right now is the fabric. It's supposed to attract the right men, and repel the wrong men. Perhaps I'm not that spicy. Even when I was a juice pig, the manstink didn't really come through. By remarkable coincidence, I just raised my arms and did a smellfie. Reminds me of a roast turkey on Thanksgiving. Odd. Results pending on the jockstrap situation.