Pozdaddy

[Cheshire_Cub]

Great follow-up !!!

[bearbandit]

I’ve been lying awake for the past couple of hours trying to answer the question “Why? Why have I moved from a previously let’s limit the the damage to a what the fuck stance?” It’s a major turn around for me, as pointed out by my nameless correspondent – should he choose to reveal him himself, I have no objection – just feel it’s his choice..

Pozdaddy (excuse the expression) came into my head a few days ago, maybe the result of the stories of you guys who know where you got it from. I think Pozdaddy is loosely based on me, while Pozboy is me thirty years ago, but living in today’s world. A new element to “go fuck yourself”. But then Stuart and I looked so much aloke that despite the eleven year age difference, we were often asked by smartarses if we were merely fraternal twins than identical twins.

Stuart died in 1992 and John in 2007 (both with advanced HIV disease) – I know neither of them would approve of what I’m doing today. Hell, I wouldn’t have approved of me a couple of years ago.

With Pozdaddy I wanted to explore the idea of giftgiving. I’ve written a third episode which I’ll post maybe tomorrow. Ask me nicely and I’ll expand the series . Pozdaddy grew out of the idea that although thirty plus years positive, I achieved a viral load of zero recently, underlining for me that this is a survivable illness. I’m far more like to have a heart attack than an obscure pneumonia.

I know you want to read about what sort of sex we’ve all been having so I’m keeping this brief, but I’ve got one hell of bruise on my dick where my onlne Daddy ordered to wank using my own blood as as lube. I’ll never look at diabetes lancets in the same way again

[Guest JizzDumpWI]

My friend bearbandit; how are you doing coming to an answer? I think your zero VL is a factor. The clear and compelling realization that HIV is survivable. I have no fear nor shame being known as your correspondent. You and I are brothers across the ocean; and in our time here have forged a most interesting friendship. In a way, we're partners in HIV, although from different sides (so far). We're fearless about it (although we've had our times of fear). So Pozdaddy to me seems to be a dance of a sort around the reality of daily life. I think if we can find joy, find eroticism, in the face of it all, that is a positive thing in the very best sense of the word.

Oh man, to see a vid of that blood wank... :-)

JDW

[bearbandit]

Jizz, I'm just going with the flow: If it seems like a good idea, I go along with it. I've given up on what's "right" and ""proper". Back to being an old hippy: if it feels right do it. Hence I'm sitting here at 6.30 in the morning, confusing Welsh and English prepositions (!) to answer you.

As you say, HIV is more survivable than ever, and I'm probably the longest survivor in Wales. We're not the biggest of nations, but it's an achievement, nevertheless. Life in the old pig yet! And if you want to see a video of a blood wank, gimme a couple of weeks to recover from this one and get your butt (might even get mine in return) and film it yourself, you fucking pervert

[bearbandit]

The doorbell rings. I look down at Pozboy who’s as naked as the day he was born (perhaps a few more bruises, though). “Put a cockring on before you answer it”. His dick swells nicely as he struggles to get his balls through the ring. He returns with Jim, shyly holding his hands over his cock and balls.

Jim and I kiss deeply and as ever I savour his heavy beard, the smell of him, a man who needs to rut and soon.

“Oi! What’s this shrinking virgin act? Didn’t you learn anything?”

Immediately Pozboy grasps his hands behind his back, with his feet 12 inches apart. “Sorry, Jim, his first time... poor lad’s still a bit shy. Hasn’t figured out he’s his Daddy’s whore yet. Been trying to fuck some sense into him, but you know how it goes... Come have a look, see what you think”

Jim walks round Pozboy, who’s not risking anything, staring straight ahead. I see his dick stiffen when Jim pulls on his balls – he’s always liked a bit of CBT, has Jim. Now behind him, a single finger up Pozboy’s arse. Jim sucks on the finger “same brand as ever, mate” he smiles. His finger now clean of the oil, Jim takes Pozboy’s tits in hand. I’m proud to see how he’s learned, his dick rising higher the tighter Jim works them.

“Fuck you, Jim, I’m getting horny just watching...”

“Nothing in the rulebook that says the whoremaster can’t join in.”

I treasure the memories of the few times Jim and I have fucked as equals. H e trained me: part of me is his. I look at the contrast between the smoothly muscled Pozboy and Jim, older than either of us, dark, hairy, solid.

“Fuck it,” I think, “let’s have a night of firsts...” Jim and I have never shared a boy before never really gone further than a mutual wank over some porn.

“Oi! Pozboy! Stop your dribbling there. Head between my knees so Jim can look at your arsehole.” Maybe I know Jim too well: within ten seconds Jim’s tongue is feeling around the outside of Pozboy’s arsehole. Pozboy himself lurches forward and is nuzzling at my hardon.

“You little cunt... tonight you belong to Daddy Jim. Ask his permission first – he might have other uses for your gob. Tonight I’m just his guest”

I feel more than hear Pozboy’s request to get into my jeans and recognise with a smile Jim’s old mindfuck of a slap across Pozboy’s arse: does Jim mean yes or no? I watch Pozboy and see the same confusion that must have run across my face when I first knew Jim, well, he was Daddy Jim in those days... Pozboy plays it safe and doesn’t do anything, unsure of how the balance of power has shifted.

He looks to me for an answer which he doesn’t get. Jim has backed off and is getting rid of his clothes. All these years and still he does it for me: one word from him and I’d be arse up in the air begging for his dick. But it’s Pozboy’s night, as he discovers when Jim’s belt lands across his arse. “Get your mouth round his dick now; the longer it takes the more difficult I’m going to make it...” I hear the tell-tale sound of Jim’s handcuffs: Pozboy is not going to have an easy time...

I relax back (even Daddies need Daddies) and let Jim run things his way. Pozboy isn’t fast enough and is duly cuffed. I get harder at the sound of Jim’s belt across Pozboy’s arse. I have a rare burst of obvious sympathy and get my jeans off. Jim’s reverted to being Daddy Jim and hauls my vest off. Suddenly it’s the old days again as I see his dick standing out from all that hair.

Pozboy is on my dick, just like I trained him. I hold him with my legs while I lean forward to suck my Daddy’s cock. He holds my head in his hands, leans over and whispers so that Pozboy can’t hear “you never forget, do you?” I can only answer by moaning and taking Jim as far in as I can. I remember the hell the man put me through when training me: pain, mindfucks, celibacy...

Jim pulls away from me and nods down at Pozboy. I know what he’s after: he’s going to wreck that boy’s hole and doesn’t want me hurt in the process. I stand up, holding Pozboy’s body between my legs as he starts working on the eager butt before him. I lean forward and kiss Jim, gently at first then with increasing passion and urgency as I feel his body tense, preparing to cum.

Then the shudder, the almost incessant pumping as he releases his cum into Pozboy’s arse. I suddenly realise that it’s the first time I’ve seen him cum from this point of view: the panting, the tremors, the sweat sticking his fur to his flesh.

“A big one?” He nods. As I move down to Pozboy’s hole he steps back and I start working on his arse, sucking out Jim’s cum, tasting Pozboy’s arse juices, even noting a hint of olive oil. I stand up and kiss Jim who takes almost the entire load from my mouth. Together we pull up Pozboy and join in a threeway kiss, Jim’s cum and Pozboy’s arse juices, going from mouth to mouth.

Jim starts getting dressed and I look down at Pozboy. Like Jim I’ve got cum and arse juice in my beard, but who gives a fuck? “Good advertising, lad: the word’ll soon spread that I’ve got a good little whore here. Except I haven’t cum myself yet. Gonna do something about that?”

[Bttm2go]

Hot. Thanks for sharing.

[Cheshire_Cub]

Getting better as you let yourself go !!!

[Guest JizzDumpWI]

Please, keep the thread commin buddy! Love how this is unfolding...

[Guest JizzDumpWI]

Jizz, I'm just going with the flow: If it seems like a good idea, I go along with it. I've given up on what's "right" and ""proper". Back to being an old hippy: if it feels right do it. Hence I'm sitting here at 6.30 in the morning, confusing Welsh and English prepositions (!) to answer you.

As you say, HIV is more survivable than ever, and I'm probably the longest survivor in Wales. We're not the biggest of nations, but it's an achievement, nevertheless. Life in the old pig yet! And if you want to see a video of a blood wank, gimme a couple of weeks to recover from this one and get your butt (might even get mine in return) and film it yourself, you fucking pervert

Well of course I'm a pervert bearbandit! I will take a trip across the pond, and it will definitely be to see you! Then all sorts of piggy filming will take place.

[bearbandit]

Pozdaddy 4

“Okay, pup,” I love the way you bristle at that insult “Friday night and I feel like a beer. jock, chaps, boots, chest harness and bring me that new collar.” He’s back within five minutes and kneels in front of me holding the dollar out like it’s some sort of offering. Well, of course it fucking is: It’s his surrender of his safety, maybe his life to me... When I had it made for him, I didn’t bother with the ready made “dog “ or “pup” letterings: This one has his full name “Pozboy”. As I put it on him, I see his dick push out of his jock nicely and run my hand over his face: the stubble is coming along well.

I get changed myself: it’s Pozboy’s first night out with me so I go for understated: boots, leather jeans, vest and kepi (never got on with Muir caps). I know it’s Pozboy they’re going to be looking at, not me, even if they have to look at me to ask permission to use him. We’re just about to leave for The Anvil when I surprise him. Just before we leave the house I attach his leash to his collar. The cheeky little bastard rubs his jock against my leg as I fasten it to his collar. Don’t worry Pozboy – I won’t forget who your Daddy is...

The taxi is on time and as we get in I hand him a roll of notes, “I don’t carry money: tip the driver as you see fit and keep the notes safe. Inside your boot is a good choice. I drink Newcastle Brown; you may choose whatever beer you like. But if I smell spirits on your breath...” I leave the sentence hanging as we get out of the car and Pozboy pays the driver, tipping him the remainder of the note. Damn! I meant that to get uncomfortable for him...

I pick up his leash and we enter the bar; at least the door charge fills an entire note. The doorman smirks at me and I wink back: I know how he’s going to be spending his break time. We walk through to the bar, where I tighten my grip on Pozboy’s leash as a reminder. He’s unphased by this and politely pushes his way to the bar itself. He catches the eye of other customers more because he doesn’t stink of aftershave than for his looks: I have good taste. He requests two bottles of Newcastle Brown and very correctly refuses glasses, handing one to me before his own gets anywhere near his mouth.

“How do we say ‘thank you’ pup?” Within seconds, he’s on his knees, arsehole exposed as he kisses my dick through my jeans. I give him the nod and as he stands up say in quiet voice, quiet, but meant to be over heard, “I hope that arsehole of yours is ready for tonight: Pup you’re going to earn those drinks.” Again that slight wince at the word “pup”. Once more, boy, once more....

The bar itself forms an oval island in the middle of the room. Years of drinking here, and before that, years of working up from collecting glasses to be head barman, mean that I know exactly where to stand for tonight’s piece of theatre. The entrance to the bar is up one corner, so everyone glances up the one side of the bar before moving round to the other. I’m leaning against a post at the corner before the second long side of the bar with my legs spread so Pozboy can kneel between them.

With each mouthful of beer he takes he licks at my crotch. I know what the dirty little fucker is up to: it’s a different place on my leathers each time and he’s showing off his muscle, which I have to admit has improved. It’s not long before an old friend comes up to me.

“A new pet, Poz?” I was the first of my group of friends to test and adopted the nickname as a sign of defiance, much the way we wear our biohazard tattoos today. “Yeah, cute little puppy, isn’t he?”

“Hmm... Pozboy, huh? You do the job yourself?”

“Yeah, took first time as well.” Pozboy is obviously eavesdropping on the conversation despite the background blare of the music. It’s pretty early so the bar isn’t as full as it’ll get later. “You! Twenty press-ups now!”

“Still doesn’t know his place yet, though, so I’m erm... loaning him out to guys with other specialities than mine.” At that last remark I gently fondle the whip Ken always has hanging at his left hip. “I think the cross upstairs is still free....You interested? Mind if I watch?”

Pozboy is getting faster: the twenty finished, he’s lying on the floor as if ready to start again. Casually I place a boot on his back and continue talking to Ken: “I don’t think he’s been whipped before so go easy on him to start with: remember what a little sod I was?” We both grin at the memory: I didn’t know whether I hated Ken more at the time or my body’s response to his whip. “And do feel free to fuck him... I want a nice slippery ride when I get him home tonight” I hand Pozboy’s leash to Ken and kick Pozboy in the ribs “a new learning experience for you...”

I follow Ken and Pozboy upstairs and the St Andrews cross is indeed free. I stand in front of Pozboy and reassure him that nothing will happen that I haven’t been through as I remove his chest harness to expose that beautiful back. Meanwhile Ken has secured Pozboy’s wrists high and wide to show his back to its best advantage.

“This guy’s good. Look me in the eyes and know I wouldn’t let incompetents touch you.” I grasp his nipples as the first blow lands. He jerks forwards with the pain, I grin at Ken over Pozboy’s shoulder while I squeeze Pozboy’s tits. He relaxes slightly and I simply nod to Ken. He knows how I like to do these things: he starts up a moderately irregular painful whipping, while I kneel in front of my boy (my boy!). I pull his jock to one side and take his full dick in my mouth, forever associating the whip and sexual pleasure.

Again, Ken proves his mastery with the whip by leaving Pozboy wanting just that little bit more as he roughly fingers Pozboy’s hole. “First today, huh?” He spits in his hand and lubes his dick, knowing that Pozboy can take it. Poor bastard: Ken is a perfect example of “short and thick does the trick.” I step away to enjoy the pain on Pozboy’s face turn to total pleasure as his arse gets used to Ken’s unusual thickness. He’s almost screaming when I see Ken go into “gotta cum now” mode.

I move in close and grab his tits (mental note to self: get him to a piercer) while I try to silence his screams by kissing him. I’ve got one thigh forward to feel his hardon, while I release one tit to hold the back of his head and pull him closer: the closer Ken is to coming the rougher he gets. As Ken comes, he bites at the back of Pozboy’s neck; with Pozboy humping my thigh and the incessant force of Pozboy’s mouth on mine, I’m in danger of coming myself. But not yet.

Instead, we release him from the cross and put him in the stocks. “Going to be good for Daddy?” A muted nod. “I’m going for a drink with Ken; you’re staying here to offer your ass to whoever wants it. Any trouble, yell for me. Otherwise, I’ll see you in... oh, how long does a beer take? I expect to see the cum running out of you...”

Edited September 27, 2013 by bearbandit

[Cheshire_Cub]

Nice Development !!!

[Guest JizzDumpWI]

Oh FUCK YES! Gonna have at least a half chubby until the next episode comes out. Love to see your comfort in writing this increasing bearbandit. Way to go Brother!

[bearbandit]

Thanks guys - having such a blast writing this - all my dirty dreams together! And don't think for a moment that I'm not getting off on your reactions: do you have any idea what it does for a man to give guys a hard-on from such a distance?

[Cheshire_Cub]

Yeah, been wanking myself silly Ha Ha Grrrrrrr

[bearbandit]

Pozdaddy 5

“I suppose I’d better go and check on the little fucker,” I say to Ken as I finish my beer. “What did you think?” I ask as I grope Ken’s crotch.

“Pretty damn good, but I’d expect that from someone I helped train...”

“Yeah, I was a little shit, wasn’t I?” laughing as Ken rolls his eyes. “But face it, mate, I was worth the trouble.” That parting quip earns me a swat across the ass as I leave the bar for upstairs. The sexual attraction is still there, as well as the need to serve. I climb the stairs feeling really good about the world.

A feeling that increases as I see Pozboy in the stocks taking it like I told him to. As I’d told him to, there’s cum running from his ass and even as he’s getting fucked, someone else’s boy is trying to lick up the cum. I watch for a few moments and then walk into his vision. He increases his thrusting back onto the dick inside him as he sees me. I bend over to kiss him. “Having fun, pup?”

“Please Sir, it hurts... there’s so much cum in me I’m afraid of losing it. And I so need to cum myself” I don’t know the guy fucking him, but he either cums in Pozboy, or does a damn good job of faking it before pulling out and walking off. I’m behind him now and kneel down behind him. I clamp my mouth to his ass, tongue probing savouring the differing flavours of cum there. I beckon over the boy who was licking up the leaking cum and spit a load or three into his mouth “thanks for looking after my boy.”

I suck out more cum from his ass and hold it in my mouth while I free him from the stocks. I replace his leash and unload a mouthful into his waiting mouth. “Don’t swallow.” For several minutes we trade the mixture of cum and ass juices between us, until I finally have what seems to be most of it in my mouth. I spit it into his face and take him downstairs to the bar. I hand him the chest harness I made him take off earlier and give him permission for another beer.

He’s learning: he returns with two bottles and his face still covered in cum. I do the best I can to hide my pride in him: I don’t know how many loads he’s taken up his ass, but he’s wearing several of them on his face. He’s waited to be served, been respectful to the barman, who, of course, is used to seeing boys in that state, but Pozboy doesn’t know that. When he hands me the beer, I grab him by the back of neck and almost animalistically lick the cum from his face and then spit it into his open mouth.

“Please Sir, I’m afraid I might cum...”

“Well, make sure you don’t.” Holding his collar in one hand I knee him in the balls “Does that help?”

“Sir, no, Sir. Makes it worse.” A pause as he takes his place between my knees. There’s obviously an inner struggle going on. I take a long swig of beer as I wait for the question he’s struggling to formulate. I’m pretty sure I know what it’s going to be.

“Sir? Why do you do it to me? Humiliate me and hurt me? And why is it that I want you to do it? Even when I feel like I can’t take any more, I sneak a look at your face and you’re smiling; you’re obviously enjoying the fact that I’m in pain and that it feels good. You only have to pull a little on my tit and I’m getting hard...”

Oh fuck... an explanation of the philosophy of BDSM in a loud bar. Nope. Not going there. “Just accept it.” I pull his face to my crotch so he can feel my dick. “I get off on it.” I lean down and grab his hard dick through his jock “and so do you. What’s to question?” I put my bottle to one side and unzip my fly. “Turn around and face me. Spill anything and I’ll send you back to Ken”. With his lips around my dick I have to think hard about pissing instead of fucking his face. He holds still and is soon swallowing fast: this boy is a natural...

A voice whispers in my ear “you always were an evil fucker – I know what you’re up to there...”

“And who taught me this little trick, Ken?”

“It works, doesn’t it? Come on, finish your drinks and I’ll give you a lift home – the way his ass is leaking, any taxi is going to charge you a valeting fee.”

“I know you too well, mate: What are you after?”

“Just a few photos... oi! You!” accompanied by a swift kick to Pozboy’s thigh, “finish that drink: I’m giving your Dad and you a lift home.” As I place my empty bottle on the bar, Pozboy struggles to his feet – a touch of cramp, but the walk to Ken’s car will see that off. We’re halfway to the door when I realise that he’s still holding the empty bottle: “Bottle – bar... the guys are paid to run around after me, not you.” As we leave the bar I see him look longingly at the toilets. “It’s working” I think to myself as I pull him on his leash.

Fifteen minutes later, Pozboy is peeling the last of the newspaper he’d sat on in the car from his ass. I feel my cock stiffen as I try to make a guess at how many loads are up there already. In the playroom I order him to strip as I change my jeans for chaps. The restraints are already hanging from the chains of the sling so it’s the work of a few moments to have him secured. Ken moves around us quietly, only the occasionally flash from his camera betraying his presence.

I hold my PA against Pozboy’s ass for longer than usual to allow Ken a few more photos, then taking it very slowly I start to slide into his ass. It’s a little loose, but not so loose that he can’t clench and grip my dick. As I push further in more cum dribbles out. All the way in now and my balls are soaked in other men’s cum. Shit, I love that feeling, all the more so when I don’t know who contributed. I lean forward and quietly ask “how many?”

“I don’t know Daddy: they didn’t stop. As soon as one finished another was inside me.” I try and fail to guess at the number: the most important one is about to go in. I’m riding him slowly, holding his dick loosely. The expression on his face changes to one of almost embarrassment, is a boy whose taken that much cum in one evening can feel such an emotion. I thrust in deeper and see the magic happen: first a little trickle, then as I push against his bladder the stream strengthens. He groans as I direct the stream of piss into his face. He stops fighting the urge not to piss and I point the stream into his mouth. Ken’s camera goes into overdrive.

Fucking harder now, the stream slows and his dick gets harder. Each time I thrust in I’m jerking his dick harder. I hear the change of his breathing and I’m out of control, pushing in harder and deeper, feeling the slop in his ass. My balls tighten and I add to the mess in his guts. I leave his dick alone so I can grip the leg chain to keep my balance as I go for those last few thrusts. He changes from trying to grip my cock to thrashing about wildly as he cums.

I rub my hand across his belly, collecting as much of his cum as I can in one movement and smear it over his face. He licks my hand, cleaning off each finger individually. I unclip the restraints: “tidy up in here and then come upstairs. You can clean me up there...”