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Corrupting a Little Bro at the Bathhouse


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PART 5

We walked into the sling room, and Grant closed the door. His uncut cock looked to be about 9.5” by 7”, dripping like a broken faucet and sporting a mean hole-wrecker of a P.A.

“I’m Sloan,” I said, shaking Grant’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Sloan. And who’s the boy?”

“He’s my lil’ bro, a slampig-in-training. One week past his 18th birthday, practically a virgin, and all partied up for the first time. He’s your fuckhole for the night, so call him whatever you want. His name’s not important.”

Grant growled approval, then turned to Conrad. “Hey, son. Sounds like your big bro's been taking good care of you, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” Conrad replied.

“Yeah, boy? Tell me what your bro’s been doing for you.”

“Well, sir—he’s making a man out of me,” said Conrad. “Before this, I’d only fucked around with other boys. Tonight is the first time I’ve surrendered my body, my hole—everything—to the control of a man who wants to mark me, own me, use me. And best of all, I can still feel his thick cumload dripping out of my hole.”

“Is that so, boy?” Grant reached around to Conrad’s ass, pulling the boy closer to him. I heard his fingers dip into the warmth and wetness of that slopped-up boyhole. He gave another growl of appreciation. “Admit it, boy: you were looking for somebody to pin you down and fill your hungry little musclebutt with raw dick.”

“That’s right, sir,” said Conrad. “My big bro knew what to do. He fed me white smoke from a little glass pipe. He just kept feeding me that smoke, and every time I exhaled a big breath full of clouds, I got hungrier. I didn’t think it was possible to feel that hungry, but that’s what I was—so fucking hungry for my big bro’s dick. I couldn't believe how amazing it felt when his bareback cock shoved into my fuckhole.”

“Good boy,” said Grant, his hands slowly kneading the muscles of Conrad’s bubble butt. “And now that you’ve got a thick load of your big bro’s poz cum oozing of out your partied-up hole, are you still hungry?”

“Even hungrier. Please give me more. Please poz me, Daddy.”

Grant growled, pointing at the sling. “Climb up, boy.” As Conrad walked to the sling, Grant turned to me. “Nice work, son.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I opened up my playkit, revealing a row of prepared points. “Would you like to do the honors? I think it’s time we got our boy slammed out of his fuckin’ mind.”

“Fuck yeah -- but I've got an idea,” said Grant. “Whenever I slam, I shoot a big load of cum as soon as the tourniquet comes off my arm. Why let that load go to waste? I’ll push my dick up inside our boy’s hole, then slam myself at the same time you’re slamming him. That way, he’ll be riding his very first rush at the exact same moment my cock is shooting thick ropes of unmedicated poz cum deep inside his little fuckhole. Got it?”

“Fuck, Dad—that’s fuckin’ perfect. And then what?”

“And then I use my seed as lube. You know—fuck my slutty son for awhile, just working that toxic load up inside him, getting him good and pregnant. Watching his sweet little face as he takes my fat poz dick into his slammed-up hole. I usually shoot my second load after 10 or 15 minutes of massaging that first round of cum into a boy’s fuckin’ pussy. I like to leave their insides torn-up and painted thick with my fuckin’ virus by the time I pull out.”

“Fuckin’ A, you evil fucker. Let's fuck this boy into the dark side.”

With that, we turned toward Conrad. His feet were firmly in the stirrups, his muscular legs spread wide, his 18-year-old boyhole proudly exposed for breeding. Jason was already applying a tourniquet. I took a syringe out of my playkit and handed it to Grant, then grabbed another for Conrad. Jason cocked his head and pointed at the playkit. “How big are those hits, anyway?”

“Oh—big enough,” I said with a smirk.

Jason flashed an evil grin. “Fuck yeah, dude. You startin’ him with—what? A .35?”

“More like a 0.4,” I said. “But before that happens, this particular needle needs to make a little detour.”

I immediately found a vein in my forearm, inserted the tip, and pulled back the plunger. A scarlet swirl of my blood began filling the rig. Removing the needle from my arm, I aimed it at Conrad’s bulging veins. “You see this, boy?” I said to him, tapping the side of the needle, its contents now contaminated with red streaks of my toxic blood. “This is how we guarantee that you go home tomorrow with my virus growing inside you. Got it?”

Conrad smiled and nodded, holding out his arm eagerly. “Fuck yeah—we’ll be blood brothers,” he said. “Make me your blood brother. Please.”

“Of course, bro. I’m so fuckin’ proud to bring you into the brotherhood.”

Needle in hand, I leaned over to admire his beautiful veins. I picked one almost at random; his time at the gym had given him a forearm full of perfect admin sites. “See bro—the tip of this needle has my poz DNA all over it,” I said. "Want it?"

"Fuck yeah. Please. Stick that poz needle in me."

I gave him a quick smile, then gently slid the contaminated point into his arm. “Are you ready to watch my virus invade your fuckin’ bloodstream?”

He nodded as if in a trance. I drew back the plunger, and Conrad’s blood rushed into the syringe to mix with mine. I looked behind me to see that Grant, too, had a register, and that his Daddy dick was already firmly lodged in my lil' bro's hole. Turning back to Conrad, I loosened his tourniquet and flashed a wolfish little grin. “You ready, baby boy? You ready for this fat fuckin’ blood-slam?”

“Yes. Do it, bro. Please.”

“You’re gonna be so goddamn fucked up. I can’t wait, lil’ bro.”

With that, Daddy and I looked at each other and nodded. Then we counted down: 3, 2, 1...

Push. The contents of the syringe began disappearing into Conrad’s vein, slowly and steadily, while the crimson mixture of our poz and neg blood gradually merged with his bloodstream. I felt his body begin to tense as the first wave of the drug started to hit. And as I pulled the needle out of his vein, his eyes grew wide and his lungs made a scratching noise as he prepared to cough.

Grant finished his slam just as Conrad’s coughing fit began. Each cough caused my lil' bro's ass to spasm around Grant's dick, and that took our Daddy over the edge: as he yelled "Fuckin' take my virus" over and over again, his fat cock pulsed repeatedly inside my lil’ bro’s stretched-out cunt, each pulse sending waves of poz cum deep inside my boy's newly slammed-up fuckhole. A moment later, Grant pulled his cock from Conrad’s hungry butt, giving both of us a glimpse of the thick spout of cum erupting from his fat mushroom head.

“You wanna get pregnant, son? ‘Cuz I wanna knock your ass up.”

“Fuck yeah, Daddy. I wanna give your fuckin’ poz sperm a place to grow.”

Grant shoved back in. As his raw dick re-entered Conrad's hole, I watched my lil' bro undergo my favorite transformation: No longer struggling to catch his breath, no longer freaked out by the intensity of the slam, his eyes gradually lost their focus, overwhelmed by the pleasure radiating from his fuckhole. His mouth dropped open, and he let out a low, slow moan. As I watched, his body seemed to become an extension of his wrecked and dripping fuckhole—open and hungry and obsessed.

“Feel that cum dripping out of your hole?” Grant said to him as he continued to nail Conrad's butt. “I’m filling you up with the fuckin’ sperm that made you, boy.”

By that point, Conrad’s hole was leaking a steady stream of cum mixed with streaks of blood from Grant’s assault on his torn-up cunt. “Dad’s drawing blood,” I said, pointing to the evidence of internal damage.

Grant let out a cocky little laugh. “Looks like you’re starting to bleed from your wrecked little cunt, boy. Want me to stop?”

My lil’ bro shook his head fiercely, his eyes insane with desire. “Please don’t stop tearing me up, Daddy,” he said. “More poz cum, please.”

“Good boy,” replied Grant. “Good fuckin’ slampig. You make your Daddy so fuckin’ proud. And you know what’s gonna happen a little later?”

“What’s that, Daddy?”

“We’re gonna slam you up again, and your hole’s gonna stretch like you wouldn’t believe. That’s right, boy—it’s gonna stretch until it’s a gaping, bloody punch-hole dripping cum and piss and Crisco. You want that?”

“I want everything you want to give me, Daddy.”

“Good boy. The next slam will reduce you to nothing but a hole. You won’t even know your fuckin’ name, boy. But that’s OK. When your sweet boyhole is stretched around my fuckin’ forearm, nobody will be calling you Conrad. They’ll give you a new name. My favorite name.”

“What’s that, Daddy? What’s your favorite name?”

“Slampig,” Grant replied, driving his dick deep. “And you know what, Slampig? I’m here to make sure that my son will never shoot a neg load again.”

MORE SOON…

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