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I was always bicurious. When I was 18, I started dressing like a sissy in thongs, miniskirts, and all the lingerie my sisters wore with their boyfriends. I think my problem is being too androgynous. I even went out at night to walk on the same street where trans prostitutes hung out, and they always mistook me for one of them. I loved the looks, especially from older, depraved men who had a taste for guys like me. I used to go to erotic cinemas or sex shop booths, arriving dressed as a twink that men desired, dressing up in dark places, and going out in heels, stockings, and tight dresses. Of course, I never went beyond just touching, because penetration was still out of the question. It seemed difficult because of the pain and my inexperience. It was on a Halloween night, after drinking, my friends suggested I get some candy ❄️💊. I'd heard it was super easy to find a seller on Grindr, so that's how I went down the rabbit hole, if you know what I mean 🐇... It was then that I first felt like someone new was being born inside me. So many guys, so many possibilities, so many dicks, so many filthy perversions I was about to experience, which gave me a reason to become a drug-addicted whore... When I finally managed to contact someone without a photo and only a checkmark symbol, my stupid, drunk, and inexperienced brain thought, "Why not?" He just looks like someone who sells... How wrong I was about my future parents I answered and they said you were looking for a guy. I said a little fun to buy. They told me the amount and when it would arrive, nothing out of the ordinary. I paid and left, but I was about to realize they were just playing with me. Now I understand, with the experience of a slut I have, I know they were just looking for someone who wanted to get lost and they could use as their new toy. I ate the sweets with my school friends. It was my first time and obviously there was no limit or quantity to start with. Curiously, I imagine they knew how stupid kids like me are. After 40 minutes, a message arrived with a picture of two dicks, one black and one brown, so delicious that I got nervous. My legs trembled as if I had chills. I was so nervous that someone would notice and know my faggot secret. I thought, damn, they look delicious. I replied, "Aaaah, hmmm. Sorry, did you make a mistake?" Or why were the photos meant to make me look straight? How stupid of me, obviously they knew I'm a bottom, I thought. 🙄 Hey, dude, would you like us to pick you up from your party? There's a motel around the corner. You can bring the little bags you bought us. ❄️ Miss Tina was calling me like a damn demon. I answered yes, but I only give blowjobs. They responded with emojis 🤣🤣🤣. "Don't worry, I guess you're in prep," they said. I didn't know what that was, I just said I don't like them hahaha (boy, was I right). "We'll just play, you make the rules," they insisted mockingly. Being young, inexperienced, and not admitting your role in life makes you the perfect toy. 🍒😝 On the way there, they told me the motel we were going to didn't accept three people, so I had to hide in the trunk. I had a bad feeling, but the rush of experiencing something like this for the first time wasn't going to pass me by. 👿 We arrived, and the first thing they told me was not to make too much noise and to follow their instructions. They gave me a suitcase and told me to go to the bathroom to change.. I opened the damn pigs' boxes and they brought me jockstraps, harnesses, a miniskirt, and various dildos, along with a water bottle. For dads and teachers of boys like me, that symbol G means... I got dressed, took a deep breath, and decided to be who I truly am. To this day, I think it's very likely that while I was changing, my future parents hid cameras and recorded what they'll turn me into. 🐇💊❄️☣️ The first thing they did was make me kneel, put Miss Tina on the pipe, and say, "You look so handsome, baby." I blew on it and felt like a demon possessed me. I put their cocks in my mouth with that rancid taste and the strong smell of sweat from a man who masturbated and probably didn't shower. They told me, "Drink plenty of water, boy. Sometimes this is a long time and you're going to need to hydrate..." 💦💦 Part 2 I took a sip from the bottle, that chemical taste, I thought, must be the pipe I'm smoking from. I felt warm, I looked in the mirror, I felt so piggish. I was shaking my ass to turn on my parents who were saying, "You look very young, I hope you're not underage or the same age, okay?" I thought, "How shameless!" But damn, their cynicism while they said it with those devilish smiles and their extra-hard dicks with a metal ring holding them, and ESPECIALLY THAT TATTOO ☣️ which I still didn't know the meaning of but found hot. They made me feel like, "Here, you're the stupid one, shut up and keep going 🔥..." I was getting more and more dizzy, I could barely speak properly, when finally my first time happened... the best feeling of my gay existence. "Dude, get on all fours like in that straight porn that was on the hotel screen," they told me. "See that blonde girl? Think about her, be her... imitate her." I was watching TV and thinking, "Damn, yeah." I got on all fours with my ass up, my waist arched, wearing jockstraps and a miniskirt. I heard my parents say, "Let's put on a condom," when what they were really doing was putting some Coca-Cola powder and Vaseline on one of their dicks. CONDOM YES OF COURSE HUMM here you go baby ❄️ The black daddy grabbed my face and told me how beautiful and young I was, that he liked them exactly like me 🐇 here, take a deep smoke and blow those clouds on daddy's cock ☁️☁️ While the other guy was penetrating me so hard, grabbing my hips and making my little cock swing, to this day I still feel every inch of him inside me. Every time I take a shower, every time I walk and wiggle my round ass, I think of you, daddy. I know you're there waiting for me. After 10 glorious minutes, between each instruction to drink water, blow, suck, and wiggle my ass while their cocks were inside me, I felt sleepy. I lifted my ass higher in my jockstraps and put my head on the pillow. What happened next was a simple Hey kid, wake up, get dressed, we have to go. I nodded. OK... what's up? Wait, you're already dressed. They had a different way of acting, harsher, more aggressive, 😡 demanding that I get dressed quickly and calling me stupid. I guess it's a psychological tactic they use to play with our minds, creating a state of trauma that we fall in love with, which WORKED 🖤♥️💚. I got into the car; they were very serious and staring at me in the rearview mirror the whole time. I told them, "You can drop me off here; I just have to walk home." They looked at me to say goodbye one last time... they touched my cheek and said, "What a fun kid you are. We know that from now on you'll know how to have even more fun. Oh, and by the way, you're welcome. Happy birthday!" Birthdays, what are they talking about? I thought, how weird. When I started walking home, my legs were wobbly and my ass was dripping. I thought, damn, what happened? Was it the lube, the Vaseline? This is the lesson I want to teach when you're feeling down 🚀 What you worry about most is what you forget most easily. I forgot that I used to only suck and use condoms. I discovered what it's like to be free, how beautiful it is to feel flesh on flesh, the sweat, the smell 🐷🐽, which means what real men mean, where the strongest dominate the weakest.

The following story is a work of fiction – any resemblance to people or places is entirely coincidental. This is my first story on breeding.zone and I appreciate feedback, encouragement, and whatever else you would like to say/send my way. All characters in this story are over 18 yeaers of age. Apart from being a pozzing story, I wanted to let the characters explore and learn about themselves as well. As the story progresses some topics like fisting, body mods, etc. will come into play. Hopefully this will be a story for everyone to enjoy! This introduction just sets out the basis for the story. . . The action heats up in Chapter 1. INTRODUCTION My name is Paul, and I wanted to write down my experiences of the most life-changing event a boy can go through and set the record straight — I know the history of my exploits have been exaggerated, but I wanted to come clean while everything was still fresh in my mind. Whatever happens to me, I want to leave my mark and say that I was a part of doing something big, whether others like it or not. This story starts when I first went away for college. I went to study organ at a prestigious Midwestern university, and having won a special scholarship for performance, I was given my own suite in a res hall. The first few couple of months I really threw myself into school, practicing, and trying to figure out a system that would work for me as a student. Every day was a repeat of the last, waking up with a quick orange and brewing a coffee before heading to the hall to practice on the organ for two hours before my first class. I had just enough time between classes to run back to my room to make a sandwich before I was back in class until I had ensemble rehearsals and lessons, then a couple of hours in the library before heading back to the room to shower and crash. All of this led to some shockingly rapid progress in my playing, which made me excited to continue school. The only downside was that I had no life. And I mean NO LIFE. As a boy I dreamed about leaving home so I could come out and come into my own. It was already after Thanksgiving and I hadn’t met anyone outside the music department or the few chance encounters with people on my floor. I decided that I needed to change that. Not having any other plans, I sent a text to Chris. *Chris, I need to do something tonight.* He responded quickly, *What’s up? Wanna come hang out?* Chris was never one to beat around the bush. Your average frat boy who loved to run as much as he loved beer, he was jovial and always good for a laugh. *Yes, I will be there in five.* I hurried to pull myself together. I’m average height and slight build. . . About 5’8” and have the body of a soccer player but with slimmer legs. I ran a brush through my light brown hair and adjusted my glasses. My eyes were my best feature, and I wanted their oceans of blue to shine tonight. I pulled a sweater on over my shirt and grabbed a cute pair of shoes to complete the preppy look. I don’t know why I want to look like I stepped out of a Burberry ad, but there are worse things, right? Walking down the hallway, I could already hear the music and loud conversation coming from Chris’s room. I opened the door to let myself in and was hit with a wave of smell. . . It was strangely compelling. Both body odor and too much cheap spray cologne. I sighed, this already feels like more of a college experience than I got the previous three months. Chris saw me and waved me inside, “guys, this is Paul McDonnell. He’s on the floor but he is a bit shy. Just make sure you all welcome him!” Immediately I saw six other heads swivel in my direction. The group was a cadre of people from all over campus, but I immediately noticed Blake. Blake Jeffries was known all over campus. Not only was he the star of the diving team, he had a commanding presence. Not particularly tall at just about 6’, his erect posture and penetrating gaze left a mark on anyone who passed him. I had seen him at the library late a few times, diligently typing on his computer or paging through a book. Any boy who can type and still keep his back textbook straight deserves some kind of a medal. Blake’s eyes locked into mine and it was over. I didn’t know what had come over me, but I stumbled forward and sat down on the floor next to him. The rest of the people in the room were murmuring welcomes, but I felt compelled to occupy space next to Blake. For his part, he smiled gently at me and said hello in a quiet voice. I felt myself shiver. Why was I behaving like this? I needed to snap out of it. “So, you came in just as we were going to start playing some blackjack.” Chris said. “You in?” I looked around the group of people all staring at me and I mumbled, “sure. . . What are the stakes?” The guy sitting between me and Chris thumped me on the back in a bro-way, “stakes are favors — like the loser has to write the winner’s essay or do his laundry or whatever. Nothing too exciting, but should be fun!” I settled in, was given my chips and we all started to play. For anyone who hasn’t had the chance to try something that already they’re not great at while sitting next to the most gorgeous person they had ever seen, let me tell you. It SUCKS! Every move I made was wrong. I only lasted about twenty hands before I was the first one out. The guys all went wild saying things like, “At least we have someone smart if we win. . . I need him to do some homework for me. . . He looks so clean, I could use him to wash my uniform after the soccer match on Saturday. . .” I took the ribbing in stride, I was just happy to be there. I stood up to stretch and looked around the room. Everyone seemed to be having a good time but Brad. He looked like he was concentrating and still sitting ramrod straight. I popped back down and looked right at him. In a low voice I asked, “Is everything okay?” He turned his head and blinked just a foot away from my face. He gave me a tiny smirk and leaned next to my head to whisper, “I’m fine, I am just counting cards so I can be sure to win.” As he pulled head back into his own personal space, there was definitely a devilish twinkle in his eye. For the second time that night, I felt an involuntary shiver travel from my toes to my head. This boy was serious. But why? It took another hour before Blake was the only one standing with chips. We all stood up and started to gather ourselves to say goodnight, the time was almost 1:00 am. Chris piped up, “ Blake, what are you going to have Paul do for you for being the big winner?” Blake looked up from straightening the sorting the cards back into their boxes, “I’m going to get his number and text him. It is none of your business!” That got a few funny looks and playful ribs from the other people there. I was ecstatic. I walked over to him and demanded his phone. I punched in my number then thrust my face next to his, “say cheese!” I snapped a selfie with the two of us and added it to my contact in his phone. Setting the phone down on the table, I was turning away when Blake grabbed my wrist. “Walk me outside a minute.” He finished putting the cards away and stood up, loudly thanking Chris for hosting the get-together and turning toward the door. He still lightly held my wrist and I quickly followed him into the hall. Ah! Fresh air! Only when we were in the elevator heading down the seven stories to the street level did I notice how nice Blake smelled. He was holding me close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off of him, carrying a pleasant musk that comes from someone who eats well and holds themselves in shape. We rode in silence, but I was feeling more and more comfortable being next to him. At least I hadn’t shivered in the last few minutes. We walked through the lobby and outside. We were walking along a dark pathway toward one of the parking lots when Blake stopped and turned toward me. “You know, Paul, I don’t think I have really seen you around campus much before.” “Well, yeah, I have been keeping busy with school work and practicing for a few concerts coming up – besides, Christmas is always crazy time for anyone who can play the organ.” He lit up a bit, “you’re a musician? When is your next concert?” Odd that a jock like him would ask, but I guess he was just being nice. “I have a concert next week Tuesday. We’re playing the Mahler Symphony No. 2 and I am playing some short Reger organ pieces when people are walking in before.” His grey eyes lit up in the darkness, “I love listening to Reger, and my mom sang in the symphony chorus back home before she died and loved the Mahler, too. Can I come?” This would be a first. Meeting a boy who earnestly wanted to come to one of my concerts. Not to mention the jock to end all jocks. And he knows Reger and Mahler? Who was this? “Sure,” I managed to stammer out. “I get some comp tickets, so I can have one with your name on it at the box office.” “Great,” he replied, “I’m looking forward to seeing the performance. Do you have plans for after?” “Well, I don’t like to eat very much before I perform, so I will probably go and grab a bite to eat before heading home and collapsing. The music department is giving us Wednesday off to recover before we have to go back into classes.” “Don’t plan anything and find me in the lobby after the show.” He gave my hand a squeeze and was off in a flash. Before I could react he had disappeared around a corner and was gone. I stood in the early December chill in disbelief. I think I am falling in love. Chapter 1 will be out shortly! Thanks for reading so far!

This is a tale about me, Logan Ball and my journey from innocent newbie in the theatre biz to a seasoned pro spreading more than just my talent and love of theatre. This first chapter is how my eyes were opened to the amazing opportunity I had been given and the gift I received from an unlikely source. Chapter One - Alma I wasn’t out of college yet when I got cast in my first non-Equity tour of an old Broadway show. We were finishing up senior showcases in New York City and I decided to try for a cattle call audition and I got lucky! Eighteen years of dance and voice lessons had paid off! My 6’ 2” frame and lithe build didn’t hurt, nor did my shining green eyes and auburn hair. I would get to graduate and move straight from my apartment in Michigan to out-of-town tech rehearsal in the heart of Arkansas for a month before we hit the road and I would get to travel and be paid to do what I loved. Dreams were coming true and prayers were being answered! My enthusiasm was slightly tempered when I saw the accommodations: I would be sharing a room with another chorus boy in a mediocre hotel just outside the town. I told myself that I shouldn’t mind too much — I would be working in the theater and rehearsal rooms all day, so I would only be there to crash. My roommate turned out to be a fun guy who had been on the road before with a few shows. We bonded over gin martinis that first night and decided we would be friends. The rehearsal schedule was intense and we were constantly thrown between music rehearsals, choreography sessions, blocking rehearsals, wig and costume fittings. . . you never felt like you were in one place for very long. In the background the set was beginning to take shape onstage and we were moving toward our technical rehearsals. The one thing left to decide was who in the chorus cast would fly. The show required one member of the cast to fly across the set in three places during the show. Once, just zooming across, and two more times doing some rolls and flying in zig-zags. I had volunteered (having had tumbling experience) but was a bit worried because of my height. Our first day of tech came and the director came over to me, “Logan we need to get you fitted into the flying harness. I thought Max would be up for it, but he’s afraid of heights.” “No problem!” I responded, trying to keep my boyish excitement under control. I trotted over to the stage left wing and grabbed the stage manager, “where do I go for the harness?” The stage manager didn’t even look up from her prompt script, pointing toward the shadows upstage. I heard the director call for an hour lunch break as I started back toward the dark corner where the road cases which would transport the set were stored. As I approached the cases an older guy walked out from between two large trunks and walked up to me. “Are you Logan?” His voice was rough, sounding like he had been drinking a bottle of whiskey a night for as long as I had been alive. As I got closer I noticed he wasn’t really that old. Maybe mid-forties, but he had a drawn look about him as if he hadn’t had a good meal in awhile. His eyes were mischievous, but he was still a handsome man. “Yes, that’s me! I am supposed to see someone about getting fitted in the flying harness for the rehearsal this afternoon.” I stuck out my hand to shake his. The man looked me up and down before grabbing my hand. “My name’s Johnny. I’ll be the flight coordinator on this show and will be getting you clipped in and out of the harness every time you go up. Come back here and let me get you fitted. I’m sure we have something that will work for you.” He gave me that curious sweep with his eyes as he yanked my arm forward to follow him. We retreated back to the box fort of boxes where he had set up a little station full of carabiners, rope, flying wire, rigging wire, and several different harness types with various attachments. “Strip to your undies, man.” I started a bit. Actors aren’t really repressed people; we change in front of others all the time, but I guess I didn’t expect to be down to my Calvins in front of this old guy. As I started to strip, I looked at Johnny a little closer. He was wearing the requisite black work shirt that technicians on the tour were wearing, but instead of slacks he was wearing a black kilt with tons of pockets. I thought that was kind of an interesting choice, but it accentuated his thin torso and gave his hips some flair. I stripped off my shorts and cute shirt that I felt accentuated my twink frame. Johnny walked around me, taking in my bubble butt and bulge in my steel-banded Calvin Klein briefs. I normally wasn’t shy about my body, but something in this man’s gaze made me feel like I was being looked at for the first time as a man instead of a boy. “Okay, I think we’re going to have to have two harnesses. One is going to be your regular harness for the first flight just straight across the stage. We want to make sure your chest and groin are both supported since they want to get you going at some speed.” He continued to look at me critically, “and the second harness is just a harness around your groin and hips that allows for some acrobatics. The problem is that you’ll have to strip off your costume each show so we can swap the harnesses out under your clothes.” Johnny leaned in and started to feel up around my shoulders, “You have okay muscle tone, but we’ll work on that during the tour.” His hand slowly slid down across both my pecs before it continued down my abs. His hand left a wave of goosebumps wherever it passed. Johnny leaned in and looked me straight in the eyes, “we’ll get you in perfect shape to use this,” he grabbed my bulge firmly and I noticed for the first time that I had gotten hard being objectified by this man, “to do its job.” He squeezed with a little more pressure and my breath caught in my throat. After a moment of intensity when all I saw were his eyes and I felt I couldn’t breathe, he shuffled back to the harness selection and picked up two models. “Okay boy, let’s get you fitted.” Once the intensity of the moment wore off (and I was able to convince my brain to breathe on its own again) we spent half an hour getting in and out of the two harnesses, correcting all the various straps and ties to fit me snugly. He even hooked me into the fly system and raised me up a few times to check the counterbalances and make sure it would all work. I continued on with the rest of rehearsal that day with a little bit of fog in my head. The crotch grab and intensity of the old man’s stare wouldn’t leave my mind and I knew I was hooked, on what, though, I didn’t know. * * * * * * That night after we were finished with our crazy 16 hour day, I walked backstage to grab my bag and head to the bus to get back to the hotel when Johnny came up to me. “Logan I need a few more minutes of your time to check one more thing before we fly you around in rehearsal tomorrow.” “Okay, I just don’t want to miss the bus back to the hotel.” “Don’t worry about that, I can bring you back in my car. This might take another twenty minutes or so.” I shrugged, grabbing my bag and following him back behind the boxes for the second time that day. “Strip,” was the command he gave and I immediately started to obey. As I was shucking off my shorts again, I noticed the front of his black kilt bulging out. I felt my eyes go wide and was sure my pupils dilated. . . My hormones were off the charts. When I straightened, his eyes were boring holes into my own. “Do you want this?” I nodded. “Be warned, it has a stinger.” I just knelt down and lifted the front of his kilt, exposing his freeballing 9” cock with a beautiful foreskin covering a bullet-shaped head. I tentatively licked his slit and felt his slick precum on my tongue. My college experience had seen me suck a few cocks, but this was by far the biggest I had seen in real life. I grinned as I thought how slutty I must look — rehearsal-ruffled hair, shining eyes, and licking the head of this old guy’s dick like it was the sweetest treat in the world! The licking didn’t last long before Johnny really took control, grabbing my head and forcing his cock down my throat. I wasn’t expecting as much aggression, so I more or less immediately gagged and dry heaved. “Yeah, bitch, there’s more than one reason that I made sure you missed lunch today.” He drove his cock back down my throat as I sputtered and choked around it. “You’ll be fine, you just need to breathe.” By this point, he has done this five or six times and I am starting to leak mucus out of my mouth and it is coating his cock and balls. “That’s it boy, get my dick nice and slick. It is going to be in your hole in a couple of minutes.” My eyes flew wide at that pronouncement. “But Johnny, I’ve never taken anything in my ass before, and you’re huge!” Johnny just laughed and impaled my head on his cock again. I had always imagined that I would put my career first for a few years then meet some young twink straight from college and top him for my first experience. I wasn’t a submissive, so why were my hormones not letting me tell this man, ‘hell no’? Johnny pulled all the way out of my mouth, with just a line of spit leaving an arc connecting my lips with the head of his cock. Johnny pulled me to my feet, spun me around, and ripped open the back of my underwear in what seemed like one smooth motion. Before I could even think of protesting he pushed me up against a trunk and slid his saliva-slicked member up my crack, teasing my hole. I had never felt anything like it before. His chest pressed up against my back as he continued to slick my crack and I could feel his breath on my right ear. “I’m going to open you up and change your life, Logan.” He took a nibble of my earlobe, making me moan. “I could tell that you are a top the moment I met you, but you’re young and need an elder to teach you how to treat a boy.” His head started probing my still-tight hole. “Before this tour is over I am going to show you the pleasure you can give your partners. . .” I felt him start to enter me ever so slowly as I tried to relax. “. . . you are going to bestow on men something that will change their lives, just as I am going to change yours.” The pressure was growing now, and I started to feel a little twinge of pain as his head seemed to pry my hole apart by force. “I’m going to show you what your dick can do, and you will submit to me, your ultimate father.” My hormone-drunk brain thought that was peculiar, but I had the distraction of his head completely popping in to distract me. I let out a hiss of air as I hadn’t been breathing. “You’re going to take this cock every day until the end of your contract next year and you will see just how much difference a year can make.” With that, he knocked the back of my knees with his hands and I fell onto all 9” of his cock at once. I screamed, cried, and blubbered in the next thirty minutes as Johnny tore up my ass. What had started out as just pain when I took his entire length at once became pleasurable as we found a rhythm and he fucked me senseless. At one point he spun me around and with strength I didn’t know he possessed, grabbed my legs and lifted my back against the roacd cases. “Logan, look me in the eyes as I cum inside you. This will be a moment you will never forget.” I did as I was ordered and saw his pupils flash as I gave my body totally over to ecstasy. With a final mighty thrust that I felt in my lungs, I felt his cock expand as warmth spread through my abdomen. ------------ Part Two coming soon! Let me know what you think and feel free to reach out with any suggestions!

Total cumdump here looking to get piggy in Tampa the weekend of April 23 to April 25. I will be posting the hotel and room when I am there. Looking to be a cummy mess by Sunday. Anon is hot! Ill be bent over and ready to go. Come in, unload and leave (or go for round 2 or 3 or 7). My record is 7 loads in 1 hour, lets beat that! Very open minded and dnd friendly! Come at me with what ya got! NO LOAD REFUSED. Ill be hooded so I dont see you. Feel free to record.