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I'm Azaiah NEW TOO THIS SITE IN LOOKING FOR A GOOD TIME IF INTERESTED FEEL FREE TO CALL (920) 542-2079 or HMU ON TWITTER @Vxninchi7 -
Hotel Hoe Down: The next anonymous dick slid into my cum filled hole with ease. I moaned in contentment as I once again felt like a turkey filled with stuffing at a Pilgrim Thanksgiving, dripping with sauce. My intentions were innocent enough when I answered the man’s ad. OK, well maybe not, but even with the empty rigs lying on the floor, the multiple raw dicks that had bred me, and the BBC maintenance man/pimp repeatedly calling me his, “White bitch twitch,” code for drugged-up-cum-chaser, I had yet to admit to myself how far I had fallen. I was like an angel who had come to Earth and sexually tainted my eternal light with the darkness of sex and depravity. The Watcher had become the watched. My ass was being used as a flesh hole for raw dick and cum. My veins were being used as a transport network for whatever drugs my superior BBC master decided I needed. My mouth was being used as their urinal. I was still in the first stage of denial - shock - but the rest would come, I was sure, until finally I hit the last stage of acceptance and embraced who I had become. A drugged-up-AIDs-chasing-slut. In hindsight, maybe as the saying goes, “He doth protest too much.” I had been planning my vacation to New York City for months and a major part of that effort was scoping out who the big dicked tops were in the city - the raw fucking big dicked tops. I methodically reviewed all the members on the various hookup sites I was already on and even scoured the web for new, and different sites to explore to find some good dick. I found the usual suspects, most of whom I figured were fakes, but sent messages, chatted back and forth, and ‘lined up’ a few promising dicks to get me stuffed with raw man meat and cum during my vacation. If all went as planned I would not leave the hotel for five days as I would be too busy getting fucked. Plan B was that I would hit an ABS to find whatever nasty trade I could. But now I’m getting ahead of myself a little as while I normally stay at a hotel chain where I get points on my credit card, for this trip I chose a different one, one where a 10-inch BBC worked. When I first saw his online ad, I figured it was too good to be true. I mean, really, this dude checked all my boxes - BBC, nasty, raw top, POZ, smoked, drank, drugs, thuggish, and more. Well, you can see for yourself why I was intrigued and my hole was dripping when I responded to his post: YOU WILLING TO GET FUCKED HOW I SAY? OBEY A SUPERIOR BBC MASTER? Harlem nicca here. Work in a hotel, looking for slut bottoms who need their hole seeded. My rules, my way only. You must pass inspection. My buddy will come check that ass out. If he says it’s good then game on fuckas! I wanna breed my nut in YOU! The Dept of Health got my number. Who want to be added to the contact list? POZ breeder - take it or fuck off! I shook as I typed a reply and my brain spun thinking of how such a connect might play out. Yet I knew it was likely it was all fake - but hell, might as well give it a shot. To my surprise the guy responded and without asking the 101 questions every other guy in NYC had generally been asking. He only asked one - again, “YOU WILLING TO GET FUCKED HOW I SAY?” Of course I said yes. Little did I know what that would mean. Finally the day arrived and I was all set for my vacation. I had shipped a box via FedEx to the hotel with some ‘supplies’ to make sure I could prep, have some poppers, fuck towels etc… Getting a tub of Elbow Grease through security in my carry on was not an option, and I didn’t want to fill by luggage with nothing but fuck towels - a nice dark brown to hide any stains and not ruin the institutional white sheets and coverlets most hotels use these days. Once at the hotel, I unpacked, prepped, and at 2:45 texted the BBC Master as he had instructed, “I’m in room 632. Door unlocked. Bent over the bed. Blindfolded. Waiting as MASTER ordered.” I was anxious and paced back and forth on the worn carpet. Would he text me back? Was this a set up? Fuck I should have had a drink or something. Instead I grabbed the poppers and did a snuff. OK, better, but not - fuck! He texted me back. “You got 60 seconds to get ready. Bend over, white pussy ass out. You run - my man is out. You say anything - my man leaves. You make a fucking move and are anything but a cum hole - we done.” I quickly threw my phone up on the bed, bent over, slid the blindfold down across my eyes and huffed the poppers hard. I had a fuck towel set out on my right with a bottle of Elbow Grease H2O gel as ordered and a fuck towel to my left. My ass was prelubed, the lights were off except for the hall light. I waited. The door latch clicked as the handle was turned. The door banged against the jamb and clicked shut. Silence. Hard breathing, the shuffling of fabric, keys, a belt unloosening, the scrape of sharp nails against my skin, then my hole, then an evil chuckle as the skin cells of my ass ring were scraped like excess paint off a window sill. I wanted to flinch, cry out, move, beg for his dick but remembered what the BBC MASTER has said, so I stayed as still as a fawn being stalked by a wolf. The digging at my hole paused. I heard the flick of a lighter, the hiss as something caught flame, the sucking in of lung fulls of smoke - pause - then a great exhale. Jesus he was smoking in my room! Fuck! I was going to get charged for that damn it! I recognized that smell though - crack. I had a few street buddies from DC who smoked rock and the smell is unmistakable - sharp, sticky, chalky, with a mix of burnt toast. The lighter flicked again, the anonymous top exhaled, I heard the clink of glass onto the cabinet holding the TV, then felt his nails again as he clawed at my ass even harder now. My hole was getting wet; the top’s breathing was getting heavier as the crack kicked in. Damn I hoped his dick could still get a hard on and fuck. I should not have worried. The anonymous top leaned over my back, his dick head pressing against my ass. Shit he felt thick and his skin was hot like a white ember in a furnace. He moaned as he scored his fingers down my back and sides, kneaded my ass cheeks like a kitten on a pussy’s tummy, then grunted as he slammed his hard dick at my raw hole. I had to bury my face in the pillow and stuff my mouth with the white cotton to keep from not crying out. The fierce pain was like a bullet piercing my flesh, but in slow motion. Little by little he pushed into my ass. The raw, anonymous dick split me open, fucked me hard, and pounded me like a nail with a sledge hammer. I took it just like the BBC Master ordered and before long was rewarded with a deep grunt, a stiff dick, a ball spasm, and hot cum spewing like river rapids into my raw ass. Once he was satisfied, my anonymous benefactor slid his dick out, grabbed a fuck towel, mumbled something, tossed the towel onto my back, hiked up his pants, then left the way he came in. I stood up, stretched, yanked the blindfold off, went to the bathroom to rub my eyes and took some toilet paper to rub my tender hole - pink and red. Yeah he fucked me good. I wanted to keep the nutt in and flicked the lights on and went back to the bed and stopped - there on the bed was a white envelope: “10:30. COME TO THE 17TH FLOOR. END OF HALL TO THE RIGHT IF YOU WANT THAT POZ NUTT.” I opened the envelope and inside was a key card, like for a hotel room, but which one? I held the anonymous load of cum in as long as I could. When I finally went to the bathroom I had some sharp pain, like razors slicing my hole. He must have ripped me up some. I also felt tweaked out - can you get a contact high from a crack smoker through his cum? I figured yes. Repeatedly I checked my phone seeing if the BBC Master had texted or emailed me. I guessed I passed his first test but hell, who knows with these fakers and spammers. I was happily surprised someone showed up at all and eager for more dick and while I wanted to head to the ABS or online to find some more dick, I waited. At 10:25 I left my room, looked to the left then the right down the hotel hallway, then made my way to the elevator bank. I stepped in and pressed 17. Nothing happened. I hit it again. Nothing. I pulled the key card out of my pocket, swiped it against the small black square set below the floor buttons, it turned green, 17 lighted up, and I was on my way. The elevator stopped, the doors opened, and I stepped off into a dimly lit construction zone. I guess this was a floor they were remodeling as there was a cloud of perpetual dust, rows of plastic hanging off the wall and ceiling, piles of debris, and workshop style lights that fluttered in and out. Yeah, I know, this is the scene in Law and Order where the dumb ass criminal who is trying to escape the cops gets taken out by a serial killer or some shit. I looked to the left, then the right, headed down the hall stepping over bits and piles of construction debris and dodging drapes of hanging plastic from the ceiling. The only sound besides the thumping of my heart was the thrum of a generator, or machinery someplace. All the doors to the rooms were open and only darkness could be seen, not even a glint of light from outside. As I got closer to the last room on my right I noticed a faint glow coming from the room. I paused, listened; there was a soft CLICK, a rustling of plastic. I peered around the doorway and saw a large, dark shape of a man silhouetted against a single workshop light hanging from the ceiling behind him standing beside the shadowed outline of a stepladder. His face was in shadows, and to make it even murkier - and creepier - he was standing behind a sheet of opaque plastic hanging down from the ceiling. CLICK - the lighter caught, the brief flicker of flame near the shadow man’s head showed he was smoking something. Bright embers shimmered in the glass pipe like little distant stars behind the plastic sheeting. “WHAT THE FUCK YOU WAITING FOR BOY? GET THEM FUCKING CLOTHES OFF, THEN THE FUCK OVER HERE, BEND THOSE KNEES, AND GIVE ME SOME NECK. TASTE THIS POZ DICK!” the shadow man bellowed. CLICK - the lighter caught again and even as I got closer I still could not make out any details of his face. I paused, pulled off my t-shirt, shorts, kicked off my sneakers, and adjusted my now hard dick. CLICK - the lighter torched once more and just as I thought I might catch a glimmer of this POZ breeder, the flame died. The smoke was thick close to the plastic and smelled like crack, but way stronger. As I got nearer I also noticed there was a hole cut in the plastic and the shadow man had his dick stuck through it. I knelt on the dirty concrete floor, lifted his long breeding stick up, and placed the head on my tongue so I could savor his infected drip. “THAT’S IT BOY. TASTE THAT SUPERIOR BBC DICK. TASTE THAT MASTER DICK THAT’S GONNA FILL THAT CLOWN HOLE. I’M GONNA SMASH THAT BOY PUSSY GOOD AND MAKE YOU O.D. ON SOME AIDS NUTT. YEAH GOT SOME THUG TREATS FOR YOU FAGGOT - HELL YEAH - LOVE A COCK HUNGRY FAGGOT HOE WHO NEEDS THEIR PUSSY RAPED BY A TRUE SUPERIOR BBC MASTER. AIN’T THAT RIGHT? DON’T TALK WITH YOUR MOUTH FULL NOW - JUST FOCUS ON MAKING IT SLOPPY.” As his dick extended to its full width and length I had to brace myself and work to take what I could. I was beginning to think unlike most tops, he had undersold his assets, as clearly it felt bigger than 10-inches. “GOOD HOE SLUT. HOLD YOUR NECK ROLL A MINUTE - NO DON’T MOVE YOUR MOUTH, KEEP IT JUST LIKE THAT. DON’T FUCKING MOVE YOUR HEAD OR WE’RE DONE AND YOU DON’T GET THIS DICK UP THAT PUSSY YOU HEAR ME!” I wasn’t sure what he was trying to do at first and it made me jump a little when something hard and bristly pushed through the plastic gloryhole and at my mouth alongside his dick. He had stuck his hand through the hole too along with a hard bristle toothbrush. With his dick still in my mouth he jammed the brush in alongside his dick. He tried to brush my gums but between the angle and his dick filling my mouth, he just couldn’t make it happen. Quickly, he realized that too, “I’M GONNA PULL MY DICK BACK FOR A MINUTE SO WE CAN PREP YOUR AIR HOLE. PUT YOUR MOUTH RIGHT UP TO THE SPOT THERE, OPEN WIDE, AND USE YOUR FINGERS TO STRETCH YOUR LIPS OUT. REMEMBER, DON’T FUCKING MOVE YOUR HEAD OR WE’RE DONE!!” I did as the shadow man ordered and winced and whimpered as he had success and started gouging my gums good with his brush. Side to side, up and down, top then bottom, he was like an evil dentist. Tears ran out of the corners of my eyes, he pulled the brush back, the lighter went CLICK, he chuckled, “FUCK YEAH BLOODY HOE AIR HOLE. TOLD YOU I WAS GOING TO POZ YOU AT BOTH ENDS. JUST LIKE PAINTING A HOUSE YOU GOT TO PRIME THOSE WALLS FIRST BEFORE YOU ADD THE FINISH COAT. NOW SCOOP SOME OF MY AIDS DRIP OFF MY DICK AND WORK IT AROUND YOUR GUMS THEN SLIDE MY MEAT UP AND DOWN YOUR TONGUE, INSIDE YOUR CHEEKS REAL NICE AND GOOD. OH YEAH THAT’S THE SHIT. FUCK YEAH HOE SLUT, FUCK YEAH.” My BBC master was pleased with how I obeyed and so decided I should get another treat, “That was good hoe fag. I like how you are whimpering cause you so hungry for my dick. Don’t worry, if you continue to please me I will make sure that body gets all the AIDS dick and nutt you can handle and then some you can’t. First, I want you to take this pipe. AH AH AH NO QUESTIONS! Good. The only time that mouth should be open is when I tell it to be. Like I was saying, take this pipe, hold it firm between your lips. I’ll heat the bowl and when I say so, you inhale deep as you can and hold it until I say stop and release.” Shadow man passed a glass object through the hole that was about as long as a pen with a rounded bulb on the end. I held it level as I bent forward a little, placed the end between my lips, and tried not to imagine him setting the plastic on fire or some shit. CLICK - he held the lighter’s flame below the bowl and swirled it around in little circles, “Go on now - suck it in good and deep and hold it no matter what. You’ll want to cough, but don’t, fight it - fight it - fight it a little...more...OK you can release.” When I did I coughed, hacked, and gasped for air as the world spun a bit and I got a wicked rush. Shadow man laughed, “Fucking slut - that was good and got my dick brick as shit. Let’s do that a few times.” I kept running my tongue back and forth and in and out of my mouth like dog that had just been given peanut butter. The taste was funky, the smoke had made the places where he had gouged my mouth up itch and burn, and I was tripping a bit. “Yo bitch, focus, put your mouth back here. That was a warm up. This time, inhale harder, hold it longer, and you’ll repeat several times in a row until the shit’s down. Come on now, that’s it.” By the time that round of hitting the pipe was done I good and buzzed. Shit I liked that and wanted more. I mumbled something but even I didn’t know what I said and shadow man just laughed, wagged the tooth brush back through the hole, “BEND THE FUCK OVER HOE - TIME TO PREP THAT PUSSY SO I CAN DUMP SOME AIDS BABIES.” I backed my ass to the plastic gloryhole, bent forward, and barely made a sound as he jammed the toothbrush in my ass and started digging around, getting my hole ready for his eternal gifts. Shadow man wasted no time and moved his hand back and forth in time to the need building inside his balls. He pulled his prep toy out, made a satisfied, “Hmmm..” then I felt the baby-fist head of his dark dick kiss my ass lips. “SHOW YOUR SUPERIOR BLACK MASTER HOW MUCH YOU WANT THAT DICK. TAKE IT DRY WITH JUST YOUR PUSSY JUICES. SHOW ME HOW MUCH OF A CHEM-FUCKED-UP-SLUT YOU ARE. EAGER PUSSY TRYING TO GET POZZED. NUTTED. BRED DEEP. THAT’S IT - PUSH THAT HOLE BACK, OPEN THAT CUNT - SHIT HURTS GOOD HUH? WAIT UNTIL I AM ALL THE WAY IN. RIDE THAT FUCKING DICK. RAPE YOURSELF ON IT. BOUNCE THAT SHIT BACK. YOU GO FAG BOY - YOU ASKING FOR IT GOOD NOW!” I was hungry for dick, for cum, for more of that pipe - the glass and BBC master versions. I stood part way up, desperately flinging myself back onto his POZ dick. Suddenly the shadow man wrapped his arms around me, encasing my head and body in the plastic hanging from the ceiling as he pressed our bodies together and pushed. The plastic rent from the connectors holding it to the ceiling. Bits of plaster cascaded down the crevices of the protective cover as the shadow man pushed me down onto the floor, his dick stull buried raw and deep in my ass. His hand and body slid over mine, the plastic forming a protective barrier against him except for the hole where his dick spread my ass open wider. “TIME TO POZ THAT ASS UP. ADD YOUR NAME TO MY FILE AT THE HEALTH DEPARTMENT. BREED YOU LIKE THAT PUSSY NEEDS TO BE BRED AND FILLED. CREAM IT WITH THIS SUPERIOR BLACK NUTT TIL YOU GAPING, DRIPPING, AND THOSE PUSSY LIPS JUST SUCKING IT OUT OF ME! YOU READY TO GET THIS TOXIC LOAD? YOU READY FOR THAT BREEDING YOU’VE BEEN CRAVING - NEEDING - BEEN ALL HUNGRY FOR? I DON’T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU ARE OR NOT CAUSE YOU’RE GETTING IT NOW. NO PULLING OUT - NO STOPPING - FUCKING FILLING YOU DEEP!” Time paused - I could hear the drops of sweat from shadow man’s face drip onto the plastic over my head, could feel his body tense, shudder, and release inside me. I welcomed his gift. Time went back to normal speed when the BBC retreated from my hole. I stayed where I was, not wanting to lose the moment, but as with all things time, moments pass and it continues with or without you. I reached up and eased the plastic off my head, wiped the sweat and grime from my face, rolled over and looked for my shadow man. Once again he was silhouetted against the single light, all darkness and shadows, and then he spoke, “Good slut. You want some more breeder dick? Fucking white bitch twitch.” I WONDER WHAT ELSE HE HAD PLANNED FOR ME? (*From the author: If you like the story let me know - post a reply or give a reputation. Thanks to everyone who takes the time to read these stories and for the continued support!)
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Hello, I’m looking for a keyholder. I’ve put myself in chastity and need someone to own the key. I’m 25, 5’5, Latino uncut, power bottom. Someone please help me out. I’m desperate. I’ll give pictures upon request.
