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Corrupting a Little Bro at the Bathhouse


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  • 2 weeks later...
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PART 6

As Grant’s dick slowly churned the poz cum inside Conrad’s fuckhole, my bro just kept grinning—a less angelic grin than before, almost a little evil—and his eyes radiated the dark intensity of a truly trashed-up chempig.

“I’m so proud of you, bro,” I said to him, and he looked at me with that same grin.

“This is fuckin’ amazing, bro,” he replied. “Ever since you put that needle in my arm, all I can think is dick. Dick. I need dick. I love dick. Fuck, dude! DICK.”

That made everybody laugh. “I’m glad to hear that, boy. Slamming should do that to a bottompig like you.”

Conrad growled hungrily, then turned to Grant. “Fuck, Daddy—that felt so good. Your cock, your cum. You fed me exactly what I needed, exactly where I needed it. Poz cum in my raw hole.”

Right around that moment—as Grant and Conrad continued their Daddy-bro bonding with filthy pigtalk punctuated by the occasional deep kiss—my phone buzzed. It was a text from Rick, my buddy at the front desk of the bathhouse. If you’re up for another conquest tonight, he wrote, I’ve got a candidate for you. Hot little self-righteous condom-Nazi with a gorgeous furry butt.

I replied right away, telling him that Recruit #1 was already a trashy slampig, so I had time to bring another boy to the dark side. Rick texted right back: Fuck yeah! You’ll find him sitting on the edge of the Jacuzzi. I want to see his pupils get bigger than fuckin quarters. And then I want to destroy his slammed-up hole. (This is why I love playing with Rick: for him, innocence is only acceptable if it’s up for immediate destruction.)

I didn’t want to miss this boy at the Jacuzzi, so I grabbed Jason—Grant’s furry pigboy—and asked him to give me a hand. Then I pulled Conrad down from the sling and said it was time to rinse off. I assured Daddy Grant that his boys would return soon, then ushered Conrad and Jason out the door with their towels draped over their shoulders. As the three of us walked past a steady stream of half-naked men—many of them leering at us, some reaching out to brush their hands against Conrad’s boyish skin—I explained how the two of them could help me nail my newest victim.

When we arrived at our destination, the three of us parted ways: I went to the Jacuzzi, and Jason and Conrad went into the group shower. (At this particular bathhouse, anyone sitting in the Jacuzzi can ogle the dudes in the shower—the two areas are only a few feet apart.) As for Rick’s boy, I caught sight of him immediately. He was maybe in his mid-20s, short and compact, with a perfect dusting of fur across his muscular little chest. A little bit of scruff. Rugby players’ legs. A nice piece of uncut meat between his legs. And that face—the kind of angelic face that demands to be stuffed full of cock.

As I slowly walked down the hot tub stairs and submerged myself in the water, I made sure that my cock stayed above the surface long enough for my new target to see it. He saw it, alright—and then he couldn’t stop staring. I stared back. And as I sat down on the ledge across from him, I cocked my head to indicate he should sit with me. He didn’t hesitate for a second. As he walked my way, I got a clearer look at his ridiculously defined six-pack, not to mention his rapidly-growing cock. Best of all, when he spun around to sit down on the ledge next to me, I got a quick peek at his ass. Rick wasn’t kidding—this boy had the kind of butt that gangfucks were made for.

We started with a little small talk. His name was Dylan. He was a grad student, and he’d been in the area for about six months. But just as I began to turn the conversation in a more filthy direction, everyone in the Jacuzzi started pointing to the showers—and once we looked, we couldn’t stop staring, because Jason and Conrad were putting on quite a show.

This was all part of my plan, of course. I’d instructed Jason and Conrad to walk into the shower area as if they didn’t know each other. I’d told them to choose adjacent showers. I directed Conrad to begin soaping up his hot young jockbutt, and I told Jason to respond by jacking his stiffening cock. By the time Dylan and I started watching, Jason was already fingering Conrad’s hole and asking him to squeeze out a little cum from his last breeding. We watched as a thick stream of white jizz came streaming out of Conrad’s butt, which earned an audible grunt of appreciation from the cumpigs in the hot tub.

By the time Jason pushed Conrad against the railing of the Jacuzzi and started pounding him raw, I was rubbing my finger across the surface of Dylan’s tight little furry fuckhole, earning a little moan in the process. His cock was rock-hard as he openly gaped at the bareback fuckshow in front of us.

“Pretty hot, huh?” I said, continuing to run my finger across the entrance to his hole.

“Fuck yeah—it’s definitely hot. But not for me, man—I play safe, you know?”

“Oh, that’s cool—so do I.” He turned to me and gave me an appreciative smile. Then I leaned over and whispered in his ear: “And I have rubbers in my room. So when can I fuck you?”

He didn’t answer, but simply stood up and walked to get his towel, the muscles in his butt flexing with every step. He glanced back and gestured for me to join. Following close behind, I watched him clamber out of the Jacuzzi, his leg swinging up to the edge as he climbed out the side of the pool—a maneuver that briefly exposed his fuckhole. One way or another, I said to myself, consensual or not, this boy’s butt is taking my raw dick tonight.

Just then, the fuck between Jason and Conrad was reaching its noisy climax. Jason was asking my lil’ bro all sorts of questions: do you like being a fuckin’ bareback slut at the bathhouse? Do you like giving up your wrecked pighole to total strangers? Are you gonna take loads in your slopped-up hole all fucking night? Conrad didn't answer, exactly, beyond a half-coherent litany of nasty pigspeak, his slammed-up brain unable to perform basic processes while that big raw dick was pounding his hole. He just kept saying things like fuck, fuck, fuck, breed it fucker, fuckin’ A, fuckin’ use this hole, use my hungry cunt. Knock it up. Please, please knock it up. Fuck! Goddammit, you hot pig motherfucker…

Then I heard Jason start to breathe heavily as his dick slapped faster and faster against that cum-flooded hole. Then came a few more questions: You want my fuckin’ load in your slopped-up hole, huh? You hungry for my cum? You wanna get fuckin’ pregnant, dude?

Yes, shouted Conrad, nearly delirious with hunger. Fuckin’ yes. Fuckin’ breed me. Please. Please, please breed me. I’m so fuckin’ hungry for that seed. Ohmigod—ohmigod—I feel it—I feel it—fuck yeah! Gimme your load, dude. Thank you. Oh, fuck! Thank you. Thank you. Ohmigod—FUCKER! Everyone in the hot tub could see Jason’s whole body shake as he unleashed his poz cum inside my lil’ bro, Conrad grinning like a little kid as he milked that dick clean with his hungry jockbutt.

When Dylan and I turned to leave, I caught a quick glimpse of Jason’s softening cock, coated with fresh seed, pulling out of Conrad’s hole, only to be replaced right away by some random dude’s veiny, precum-dripping Daddy dick. My lil’ bro let out a guttural moan of approval as the new cock invaded his ass—and the whole time I just kept brushing my fingers against Dylan’s twitching, furry muscle hole.

First, we took a brief detour to the front desk. I told Dylan that I needed an extra towel, but I actually needed to give Rick a signal that a new corruption project was underway. As I picked up the towel, I gave Rick a little wink, and he replied by mouthing the word “Oink.” As Dylan and I walked away, I looked back at the front desk and held up both hands, mouthing “10 minutes.” Rick answered with a thumbs-up while flashing an evil-pig grin.

Back in the room, Dylan climbed up on the bed, got on all fours, and immediately began sucking my dick. Bobbing up and down on my poz shaft, he instinctively arched his back and aimed his hole at the ceiling. I fixed my sights on that quivering cunt, imagining just how incredible this negboy’s fuckhole would feel against the skin of my poz cock.

I leaned down to kiss Dylan. It was important to make a good connection with this kid, to gain his trust. I’ve found that a good makeout session can help establish that kind of instant connection, especially if the boy is affectionate and eager for someone to take care of him. That was Dylan, all right—I could tell he was a sweet one. I wreck boys like him all the time: nice kids who somehow fall under the spell of a guy like me, a guy who lives to see virgin boyhole oozing thick white sperm, preferably streaked with ribbons of pink and red. Cum and blood: the keys to initiation and brotherhood.

Dylan kissed me hungrily while I kept toying with his fuckhole. “Just curious, boy,” I whispered in his ear. “Do you like to get tied up?”

“Fuck yeah,” he said. “Just as long as you don’t make the knots too tight. I kinda just want the illusion that I’m tied up, you know? I need to be able to escape if necessary.”

“Oh, of course,” I replied, reaching into my bag to grab a handful of rope. I looped a few coils around his wrists, then made a loose knot on the bedposts so that he wouldn’t feel trapped. “That OK, boy?” He nodded with a big grin. I leaned down to kiss him again, and his body trembled with hunger and excitement. “I can’t wait to feel my cock slide inside you, Dylan. You’re such a sexy little fucker.”

He responded with a happy murmur as I reached into my bag. OK, that’s enough affection for now, I thought to myself. It’s time for things to take a nasty turn.

First, I grabbed a piece of piss-stained fabric and shoved it in his mouth. Then I reached up to the knots on the bedposts, and with a simple tug I tightened them so that Dylan couldn’t move his arms. His eyes grew wide, and he attempted to use his legs as leverage, but it was no use—I’d already pinned his thighs with my knees. “Sorry, kid,” I said. “When I tie a boy up, he’s fuckin’ pinned until I say otherwise. For real. No escaping, understand? Tonight you’re mine.”

As Dylan attempted to scream through the fabric, I heard a knock at the door, followed by a key entering the doorknob. I looked back to see Rick come in with our buddy Santiago, another staff member. (Santiago, you see, is the kind of ruthless Latino top who just isn’t happy until he sees blood on his dick.) “Excuse me, guys, but we heard sounds of a struggle in here,” Rick said to me, doing his best to sound genuinely concerned. “We just wanted to make sure everything’s alright.”

Dylan tried screaming again, but I muffled him even more by placing my hand over his mouth. “Everything's fine," I assured him. "I do have one small problem, though: I need some help getting this boy under control. See those ropes on the bedside table?”

Rick nodded and grabbed the ropes. Dylan, meanwhile, was trembling with fear—and that’s a major turn-on for me. When I see a boy get scared because he’s no longer in control, my cock twitches and I start drooling precum. I mean, look: there’s nothing hotter to me than watching a boy break. I love breaking ‘em down until they finally surrender and start begging for the raw dick they’ve always wanted.

As Dylan kept trembling and whimpering, Rick and Santiago each grabbed a leg, bent him in half to expose his fuckhole, then secured his ankles to the bedposts. He struggled from time to time, and his head kept shaking back and forth in silent protest. But these protests were feeble—he knew he was fucked.

I turned to Rick. “In the nightstand, you’ll find a needleless syringe. It’s all ready to go. A nice big fat dose.” He handed it over to me, and I inserted the plastic tip into Dylan’s hole as he gave me a pained, pleading look. “Don’t worry, boy. This is just some very, very special lube.” Then I pushed the plunger in, releasing the drugs into his fuckhole and bringing Dylan one step closer to the world of chemsex.

With the chems quickly finding their way into Dylan’s system, I reached into my bag to grab one of my specially prepared condoms. (The preparation is pretty simple: I slice off the reservoir at the tip, so it only takes a few deep thrusts before my mushroom head bursts through the weak end of the rubber.) I held up the condom for Dylan to see, and relief flashed across his face. We were being safe after all! Then I rolled it onto my dick—making sure my boy didn’t catch sight of the hole at the tip—before pouring some lube on my shaft. Finally, with a slow thrust, I began sinking my poz dick and its useless rubber into this helpless negboy fuckhole.

His cunt was warm and hungry from that giant booty bump, and I had no problem going balls-deep on the first push. I pulled back a few inches, then buried my dick all the way once more—at which point I felt my cockhead burst through the rubber, and my precum-covered cock got its first exposure to the warmth and wetness of Dylan’s unprotected fuckhole.

A moment later, I pulled back out. The broken rubber now covered about two-thirds of my cock, and a string of precum connected the tip of my dick to the warm hunger of Dylan’s hole. “Sorry, dude,” I said to him, “Looks like the condom broke.” Fear entered his eyes again, and he tried to say something through the fabric stuffed in his mouth. “Dylan, I can’t hear what you’re saying. Don’t worry, though—I’ll ask somebody else. Hey, Rick? Look at this rubber. What should I do?”

Rick shrugged. “Take off the rubber. Fuck his hole raw.”

“Fuck yeah,” said Santiago. “Just breed that fuckin’ uptight faggot.”

I looked back at our boy. “So tell me, boy: Should the three of us just bareback that sweet fuckhole of yours?” Dylan was screaming again, shaking his head back and forth, trying his best to fight his restraints. “Sorry, buddy—I really can’t hear what you’re saying. I guess we’re just gonna go with the majority, OK? Which means I’m gonna pound my cum deep inside you.”

And with that, I ripped off the rubber and shoved my raw dick into Dylan’s partied-up butt. I leaned into him, looking directly into his eyes as I began to pump in and out of him with long strokes. He was starting to cry, but that just made my dick harder. “Don’t cry, buddy,” I said to him. “We’re only gonna fill your butt with three raw loads, that's all. You love bareback sex, don’t you?”

“Well, at least part of him does,” Rick said, pointing to Dylan’s cock. It was rock-fucking-hard.

“Your dick’s pretty hard, Dylan,” I said to him. “I guess some people might call this a rape. But what do you call it when you're raping a cunt that secret loves it?” I noticed that Rick and Santiago were starting to get naked, quietly unveiling the biohazard tats on their chests. And as I expected, Dylan saw the tattoos almost immediately, his eyes going wild with distress as he tried to yell through the muzzle.

“I think he kinda likes the biohazard symbol,” said Santiago.

"That makes two of us, Dylan," said Rick. "I'm glad to see you're so open-minded about taking our poz cocks bareback, even though we're not on meds."

Either Dylan was exhausted or losing his voice, because he hardly made a whimper when he heard that. He just closed his eyes and quietly took my dick. A few moments later, as my pace quickened and my balls tightened, I leaned closer to Dylan. “I’m about to blow a fuckin’ load, boy. Where do you want it?” Now he was crying in earnest, still shaking his head back and forth, still making the occasional whimper. I turned to Rick. “I’m not sure, but I think he said he wants my cum in his hole.”

“Yeah, that’s what I heard. Knock him up.”

And then Santiago chimed in: “Fuck yeah, dude. Poz that sweet little butt.”

At that, I felt Dylan’s hole clench. “His hole just squeezed around my cock. I think that means he’s consenting.”

“Fuck yeah it does. Go for it,” Rick said. “Get this boy fuckin’ pregnant. Rape him full of the bug.”

I turned back to Dylan. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? My unmedicated poz cum seeping into your bloodstream?” Dylan just closed his eyes and tried to say something. “I really wish I knew what you were telling me, boy. You must be begging for my toxic load in your sweet little hole. You wanna get loaded up, boy? I certainly hope so, ‘cuz I’m breeding you—I’m fuckin’ breeding you, bitch. Hear that, fag? Yeah? You like it? You hungry for some poz seed? That’s what I thought you said. YOU LOVE IT. Well, open wide, faggot, ‘cuz I’m pozzing your sweet neg hole right…fucking…now.”

And just like that, I force-bred Dylan with a giant load of my poz cum.

He was clearly in shock as I pulled my cock out of his hole—eyes glazed over, mouth wide open. Rick climbed onto the bed and immediately thrust his poz dick into our freshly bred boy, laughing when he saw the near-catatonic expression on Dylan’s face. “I think this kid is speechless with gratitude,” he said, slowly working his cock in and out of our new cumpig. “So let’s make him more grateful. Don’t we have a little something to brighten his day?”

“Of course we do,” I replied, taking a few prepared rigs out of my bag. Then I leaned closer to Dylan. “Listen, boy: You want to take our raw dicks, don’t you? Well, this will make it easier for you to be our poz cumdump. But if we’re going to do this, I need you to sit very, very still, OK? Because otherwise you’ll just hurt yourself. Do you understand? That means no struggling, boy. Got it?”

As I was saying that, Rick placed a blindfold over Dylan’s eyes, then a tourniquet on his arm, all while keeping his cock lodged deep in the boy’s hole. Then he spoke to Dylan. “We need you to nod for us, boy. Let us know that you understand. You need to be still. Perfectly still. Got it?”

A pause, followed by a slow nod from Dylan. “Good boy,” I said. “Now, you’re going to feel a little pinprick in your arm. Again, do not move your arm. Just keep your arm still.” During this little speech, I was busy inserting Dylan’s rig in my arm, capturing some of my blood in the chamber. Then I lined up that same syringe with a vein in Dylan's forearm. “Such a good boy,” I assured him. “OK, here’s the pinch. Stay still.” I inserted the dirty needle in his vein, then pulled it back to mix his blood with mine. “You’re being very good, boy. Just stay like you are.” It only took a few more seconds to push the contents of that fat rig—including a fresh infusion of my poz blood—into the boy’s bloodstream, remove the needle, and release the tourniquet.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Dylan. Then Rick moaned. “Dude,” he said. “I love fucking a boy’s hole when he gets slammed up, because his butt gets about 10 degrees warmer as soon as you administer that hit.” As Dylan began a violent coughing fit, Rick’s eyes rolled back and he groaned. “Fuckin’ A. His cunt is convulsing with every cough. I’m not gonna last long inside this boy.”

As for Dylan, after a few moments of near-panic, he began to relax. His head tilted back, his mouth opened up. He let out a deep moan. As soon as Rick heard that sound emerge from Dylan, he started working the boy's hole—and with every thrust inside that furry slammed-up cunt, moan sounded a little more like a hungry growl.

I leaned closer to Dylan. “OK, slampig. How do you feel about raw cock now?” He paused, then slowly shook his head a few times, just like before. Then another pause. And as Rick’s cock plunged its full length into his hungry butt, Dylan started slowly nodding. “Wait—is that a yes, boy? Are you trying to tell me that you want raw dick?” He nodded again, more vigorously this time. “Is that slam making you hungry, boy? Hungry to get pounded and bred and pozzed?” This time, the nod was almost violent. I could even hear him yelling “Yes” through the fabric. “OK, boy,” I continued, “If we let you speak again, are you going to accept what we’re giving you? Are you going to be a grateful and obedient fuckhole?” Another nod. “Well, here’s your test. When I take this fabric out of your mouth, the first thing I want to hear is ‘Please knock me up.’ Got it?” A nod. “Good boy. Now do it.”

I started to remove the makeshift muzzle, and I could hear him saying the phrase through the muffled fabric already. Over and over he said it—“please knock me up,” “please knock me up.” In fact, for those first 30 minutes of speaking, with that giant slam still rushing through his bloodstream, “please knock me up” appeared to be the only thing he knew how to say. And that was just fine, because getting knocked up was the only thing he really needed to do that night.

I laid down next to him and whispered in his ear. “So tell me the truth: you’ve always wanted to be a cumpig. Isn’t that right, boy?”

“Yes,” he replied. “I wanted cum so bad. Raw dick. Uninhibited fucking. I’ve been so scared, but I’m not scared anymore.”

“Good boy. You shouldn’t be scared. You should be proud. Proud to take raw dick, proud to be a true bottom—a bottom who surrenders everything to his top—and above all, proud to be free from the fear of getting pozzed. You remember those dudes fucking in the shower?”

"Yeah. That was fuckin' hot."

"Well, those are my friends. I set that whole thing up. I asked them to do that in front of you, because I knew it would activate your inner cumpig. I knew it would get you thinking about raw cock, about anonymous dick, about embracing the needs of that hungry fuckin' cunt of yours."

I took off Dylan’s blindfold. His pupils were enormous, but his eyes shone with an odd combination of happiness and hunger. “Thank you,” he said to me. “Thank you for giving me what I needed, even before I knew that I needed it.”

We fell into a deep kiss just as Rick’s body shuddered violently, his dick delivering pulse after pulse of poz cum inside this slammed-up boy’s hungry hole. Dylan let out another groan, whispered "Thank you so much, you fuckin' stud," and went back to making out with me.

Finally I sat up, looking him deep in those jet-black pupils. “One more question, boy. After the three of us breed you, what are you gonna do?”

He shot me a devilish little grin. “You mean…other than hunting for more loads?”

“Good answer,” I said with a laugh. “And if you think you’re hungry now, you have no idea what’s coming. Because it won’t be long before we’ll slide another needle in your arm to get you even nastier and trashier, you twisted fuckin’ pig.”

With that, Rick waved his cock over Dylan’s face, all slicked up with a heavy coating of fresh cum. And without saying another word—like any good pair of pigs—Dylan and I helped each other lick that poz dick clean.

MORE TO COME…

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