DEEP INSIDE DALTON: Converting the Jock-Next-Door into a Chempig

[Jc85]

I want more

[TallChiBBBtm]

Nice story. Can't wait for more!

[icecave]

Love this....can't wait for more...

[pghpigbtm]

this was just cruel rawrawraw - you're like a dealer teasing his junkie customers! great start - can't wait for the next installment.

[barebackashley]

Before we knew his name, we called him Neighbor Boy.

Brian saw him first. On a gorgeous Saturday in May, I walked into the kitchen to see my husband jacking his fat dick while sneaking glances out the window. When he heard me approach, he flashed a piggish grin and motioned me over.

That’s when I caught my first glimpse of Neighbor Boy. He was shirtless, maybe 18 or 19, and hauling boxes into his family’s new home. His face, square-jawed and intense, was still boyish in a lot of ways, but you could easily see the drop-dead-handsome man he was becoming. And to make things even hotter, he was obviously packing a man-size piece of meat, judging from the package bouncing between his legs.

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As sweat ran down the ridges of his abs, his shorts began to slip past the beltline, exposing just a bit of what appeared to be a bubble-perfect jockbutt. My eyes followed the dark line of sweat forming between his asscheeks; I wanted to bury my face in the fresh boy-musk around his crotch, his pits, his fuckhole.

Brian turned to me with an evil grin. “That boy is ours,” he said, still furiously jacking his cock. Then, with a grunt, he sprayed three powerful volleys of thick, unmedicated poz cum across the kitchen sink.

* * *

Brian and I have been together for 10 years. I’m 35; he’s 40. People tease us about looking like twins, and I can see why: we both have dark brown hair, beards, and hairy chests. We also have cocks that are roughly the same size, about 8.5” by 6.5”. And when our big dicks spring out of our jockstraps at the same time, we can usually turn a run-of-the-mill bottomboy into a trashy, knocked-up dickpig in no time at all.

It wasn’t always that way. Back when we met, Brian was a top. I was vers, but I wouldn’t let him fuck me raw. My reasoning was simple: I was neg, he was poz.

And then one night, he invited me to his house for a homemade dinner. It was my birthday, and he’d hinted at some kind of surprise. I had no idea what was in store: halfway through my first cocktail, I started to slur my speech. I remember asking him what was going on, but Brian just stood there, grinning like a demon and rubbing his cock through his jeans as I slipped into unconsciousness.

When I woke up, I found myself suspended in midair, my body swinging back and forth in a steady rhythm. In my drugged-up stupor, it took me a few minutes to realize that I was directly underneath a large mirror on the ceiling. Very slowly, I managed to process the image I saw in the mirror: for some reason I was naked, with my legs splayed wide and arms tied back.

I’d heard of slings, but I’d never been in one. And just then, it dawned on me that my body was swinging back and forth in a steady rhythm because a total stranger was pounding my hole.

That’s when I heard Brian’s voice cut through the noise in that dark, crowded, sweat-stenched room: “The second booty bump definitely woke him up,” he said. Right about then, the guy fucking me started to convulse, and everyone in the room shouted encouragement as he thrust in and out of my hole frenetically. Next I heard a loud round of clapping and grunting from the crowd, followed by an odd sensation of warmth and wetness when that cock pulled out of me. My hole released the stranger's mushroom head with a subtle *pop*, and then I suddenly felt an emptiness in my ass, as if my knocked-up cunt somehow wasn’t complete anymore without a raw dick lodged deep inside.

But the emptiness didn’t last. Within a matter of seconds, I felt the familiar contours of Brian’s cock inside me. “Hey, baby,” he said, his big dick making an unfamiliar sloshing sound as he fucked away. “That was load number four, and you've just begun. It’s your birthday, remember? My gift is to get you fuckin’ pregnant. You want another poz load?”

I stared at him, uncomprehending. Then my eyes grew wide as I realized what all this meant. “No,” I said. “Fuck no. I don’t want to be sick. You know that. What the fuck are you doing?”

“Oh, please—you have no idea what you want,” he replied. “From the moment we met, I saw right through you. You’re just another clean-cut, handsome boy waiting for somebody to give you permission to be a cumpig. I mean, just look at your dick right now—it’s harder than I’ve ever seen it.” I glanced down at my cock, and I could see it dripping beads of precum onto my abs. Meanwhile, Brian kept pounding me. “Your dick seems to be a few steps ahead of your brain at the moment, because your dick knows what you need,” he said. “And what you need, little piggy, is an ass full of fresh poz loads. Don’t worry—your brain will catch up to your cock before the night’s through. Until then, we’ll just gangrape you full of poz seed, OK?"

"FUCK YOU."

"Sorry, bud, but I'm pretty sure it's the other way around. You're the one getting fucked tonight, remember? You're getting fucked and bred and, if you're really lucky, maybe even pozzed. So...are you ready to beg for another dirty load, boy?”

“Fuck no, Brian. I don’t want this. Fucking stop, OK? STOP.”

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He didn’t stop. Instead, he nodded to someone behind me, and I was quickly muzzled and blindfolded. Brian stopped thrusting for a moment, lodging his cock deep in my hole, and ordered me to stay perfectly still unless I wanted to get hurt. In the stillness that followed, someone wrapped a tourniquet around my bicep. I felt a pinch in my arm, and the tourniquet came loose.

Almost immediately, I gasped as a wave of dark energy rushed to my chest, my lungs, my cock, my ass. I coughed violently, and I struggled to catch my breath while the dark wave kept crashing through my nervous system. And just as Brian predicted, that's when my brain finally caught up with my cock.

I was in heat. I loved the feeling of Brian's raw dick pounding me full of toxic seed. And by the end of the night, I would whimper and moan anytime my hole wasn’t stretched around a charged-up cock. I'd been transformed from a neg condom queen to a bareback slampig in a matter of hours.

In the years since, Brian and I have developed a knack for initiating young men into the world of chemsex, feeding drugs to unsuspecting boys before knocking them up. The hottest of all, I think, was the seduction of Brian’s college-age nephew. And it didn’t happen on just any night, either, but on the night of our wedding. This kid was a hot little faggot with a naturally hungry butt. He was deeply closeted, but Brian and I saw right through him in a second. So after flirting with him on the dancefloor, then feeding him our dicks in a restroom stall, we took him back to the honeymoon suite, smoked him out with the glass pipe, and slathered Tina-laced lube all over his fratboy fuckhole. Within 15 minutes, he was taking a seat on my raw cock and bouncing on it like a natural-born bitch.

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Eight hours (and two giant slams) later, Brian’s fratboy nephew was a confirmed chemwhore, proudly spreading his wrecked fuckhole while it oozed loads from 11 strangers. Even then, he was still shoving fingers hungrily into his cunt, pleading for another slam of Tina in his arm. Instead, we dropped him off at our dealer’s house with instructions to push every boundary possible until this boy was corrupted through and through.

Our dealer didn’t disappoint, and within a month or two our fratboy nephew was a slampig escort with a real talent for getting double-fisted. We couldn’t be prouder.

* * *

The day after we saw Neighbor Boy for the first time, we introduced ourselves to his parents. Over the course of a 30-minute conversation that included far too many details about the sister we didn’t care to meet, we found out exactly what we needed to know: Neighbor Boy’s name was Dalton, and he was finishing up his senior year at McKinley High. He’d just turned 18. He had a steady girlfriend named Melissa, and he’d landed a scholarship to be a kicker for one of the state university football teams.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Dalton’s father said to us. “We’ll be chaperoning our daughter’s class trip to Washington, D.C. at the beginning of June. Dalton is perfectly capable of running the house by himself for a week, but could you just make sure he doesn’t throw any giant keggers? We’d really appreciate it.”

We nodded eagerly, because we’d found our window of opportunity. As the conversation wrapped up, we slipped our hands in our pockets, attempting to hide the bulges from our rapidly hardening cocks.

* * *

When Brian and I returned home, we closed the door and fell into a deep, sloppy kiss. We would do whatever necessary to fill all of Dalton’s holes with chems. And if we had our way, he’d be going to college in the fall with poz blood flowing through his veins.

“I wonder if Jesse knows Dalton,” Scott said. “That could be hot.”

I nodded and grabbed my phone. “Let’s give him a ring.”

We love Jesse because he’s an evil pig. But we love him even more because he’s an evil pig who happens to look like a blond, buff Mormon. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s hung like a lumberjack.

Like Dalton, he’s a senior at McKinley, and we’d initiated him about six months earlier after chatting him up on a bareback fetish site. We pozzed him on the day after his 18^th birthday. He was already entertaining some very dark fantasies by the time we found him—apparently he’d been watching bareback porn and trolling fetish chatrooms for years. But unlike most of the naïve little faggots we corrupt with chems and impregnate with toxic seed, Jesse was eager to get slammed into the stratosphere, and he required no encouragement to spread his muscled boybutt for our poz dicks. And now, in the months since his seroconversion, he’s been helping us lure boys to the world of chem-fueled bareback fucking.

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Jesse answered my call right away. Yes, he said, he was pretty good friends with Dalton, who was basically the hottest guy in the entire fucking school.

We asked if Jesse was planning to hang out with Dalton anytime soon. Yes, he replied: he’d be at Dalton’s pool party the following weekend. “You guys should come, because a lot of the parents will be there,” he said. “I’ll tell Dalton to invite you. And I'll tell you something else: everybody at school would swear he’s straight, but I just don’t know. I get a weird vibe from him. Maybe not a gay vibe, but like a curious vibe.”

“So you’re saying there might be a faggot buried deep inside that boy?” I asked.

“Just a hunch,” Jesse replied.

“Well, in that case,” said Scott, “it’s time for us to get deep inside Dalton and find out.”

MORE SOON...

very nice can't wait for the next bit

[Djim]

rawrawraw76!!! I'm a young faggot here that can't stop jerking off and cum time after time reading your stories!!!

Forcing healthy young innocent men into being some chem perverted bitches that were born to be some fucking slut being poz-bred in every holes by alpha men, specially their tight anus turned into a gaping swollen boy-pussy IS SO WRONG THAT IT'S FUCKING SO EXCITING!!!

<3 LOVE IT

[cumdump101]

oh fuck yes. more. Best writer on this site hands down

[BabyBobby]

I love the suspense of knowing this boy is about to get it and we know what they guys have done in the past so we have an idea of what might happen to him but yet we don't know. When I read stories that I like I usually imagine myself as the bottom boy and right now I am tingling with anticiaption of getting used and used hard.

[rawrawraw76]

CHAPTER 2 – THE POOL PARTY

Dalton’s family has a private backyard with a large pool—or mostly private, anyway. Our two houses are perched next to each other on an embankment that juts out from the street like a natural cul de sac, effectively separating us from the other lots in the neighborhood. A fence runs along our shared property line, and we planted a thick grove of trees to give both houses a greater sense of seclusion.

Not that it matters. Brian and I are voyeurs, so “seclusion” is a relative term. Before Dalton moved in, we lived next to a family of five, and the Dad was a silver fox type who would jack off in the Jacuzzi when he thought no one was watching. We discovered it by accident: one summer evening, we happened to be fucking a boy under the stars when we heard a sharp grunt from our neighbor’s house. We sneaked over to the property line just in time to see the silver fox climbing out of the hot tub, his impressive erection still at half-mast.

The next evening, Brian and I cleared out a few spots in the foliage where we could have an unobstructed view of our neighbors’ backyard without fear of discovery. Then we sat next to the fence and waited, passing the time by jacking each other’s dicks; before long, I was wrapping my mouth around Brian’s thick shaft while he worked two fingers into my fuckhole with generous globs of Tina-laced lube. My ass began pushing back on him, squeezing his fingers as if trying to swallow his hand. Finally, he pulled me off his dick and fed me the fingers he’d been working into my hole. As I slurped greedily on the taste of my chemmed-up guts, Brian stared into my eyes with his trademark combination of adoration and amusement.

“Oh, my hot little piggy,” he whispered, “I sometimes forget what a trashy little chemwhore you are.”

“Not only that,” I replied. “I’m your trashy little chemwhore.” He flashed an evil grin before sliding his fingers back inside my hole, this time working a little rock of T into the liquid warmth already radiating from my ass to my cock to my nips. At last, when I couldn’t wait any longer, I removed his fingers from my ass, positioned my hole directly above his precum-slick cock, and lowered myself onto my man’s throbbing shaft in a single hungry downward thrust of my hips.

Just then, as I was fully impaled on Brian’s twitching raw cock, the silver fox walked onto the adjoining back patio. Within a matter of seconds, he dropped his bathrobe—revealing a muscular mid-40s physique with salt-and-pepper fur—and sank into the hot tub. His head fell back; his mouth dropped open. And then his right shoulder began to shake as he beat his meat, unseen by us, beneath the surface of the water. Almost by reflex, I began milking Brian’s dick with my hole as I watched our neighbor stroke his cock. Then my husband wrapped his arms around me and began thrusting up into my hole, my entire body trembling in anticipation as I braced for a load of his warm poz cum.

Moments later, we heard the silver fox grunt—the same grunt as the night before. And as we watched, he pushed his hips and his cock above the water, letting his cum fly in a thick spray from his fat mushroom head. Three distinct ropes of jizz flew into the air, then down into the froth of the Jacuzzi. And that’s when I felt Brian’s raw dick pulsing and flexing deep inside me, flooding my tweaked fuckhole with a fresh dose of his potent strain.

Over the next two years, the silver fox jacked off many more times while we watched from the bushes. We started calling it “the late show,” and we caught it whenever we could. Most of the time, I sat on Brian’s dick when the silver fox started cumming, and Brian obliged with another buttful of poz seed. In fact, it became such a regular ritual for us that when our neighbors moved across the country, it was almost like our favorite TV show had been canceled.

We shouldn’t have worried. As it turns out, the real show was just about to start.

* * *

Jesse secured us a spot at the pool party. He explained that the adults weren’t really expected to swim—they mostly sat around drinking and talking while their kids played in the pool.

When the day of the party arrived, Brian and I chose tank tops to show off a little muscle and fur. We also wanted Dalton to catch a glimpse of the bulges in our board shorts, so we boosted the profile of our packages by wearing cockrings under tight white jockstraps.

We arrived when the party was in full swing. As we passed through the sliding glass doors and entered the back patio, I saw Dalton on the opposite end of the pool, lifting himself out of the water, his swimsuit clinging tightly to his ass while a cascade ran down the muscles of his back and splashed against the elastic of his waistband. I glanced over at Brian, and I could tell he saw the same thing. His eyes, like mine, were glazed over with pure hunger for that hot little stud’s hole.

The hostess—Dalton’s Mom—took us through the crowd, introducing us to people we didn’t care to remember. (We did, however, run into a few of Dalton’s football buddies, all of whom would look fucking fantastic buck-naked and spread-eagled, trussed up in our sling and forcibly impaled on anonymous poz cock.)

Finally, our hostess waved to Dalton, who was chatting up some bitch by the pool. Must be Melissa, I thought to myself. I hope she’s enjoying that boy’s dick, because she might not be getting it much longer. I watched Dalton strut our way, his tight pecs leading the rest of his body in a cocky little bow-legged stride. Meanwhile, his wet swimsuit clung tightly to his cock, confirming the presence of a thick, fleshy piece of meat between those muscular legs. He gave both of us the once-over. And as he did, his expression changed: he didn’t grow visibly uncomfortable, but his face went oddly blank.

“Dalton, these are our new neighbors. Meet Brian and Tom.”

“Hey,” Dalton said noncommittally, holding out his hand for a quick shake.

“Hey, buddy,” Brian replied. “Great party.”

Dalton nodded vaguely. “Yeah, it's pretty cool.” An awkward pause. Then, turning to his Mom: “I need to grab another burger.”

“K, hon,” she said with a pained smile. “There’s plenty of food, so eat all you want.” As Dalton walked away, quickly regaining his confident strut, she turned to us and shook her head. “Sorry about that. I swear he used to have manners.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” I assured him. “Teenagers, you know?” I glanced back toward the barbecue, and caught Dalton looking our way again, his face still impossible to read.

“He’s a little freaked out by us,” Brian said a few minutes later, leaning in close to me as we sat by the pool.

“Definitely,” I replied. “Freaked out and fascinated. Poor little faggot.”

* * *

By that point, our dicks were straining against the fabric of our shorts. We needed release, and our first chance at Dalton wouldn’t come for another week at least. So when we were introduced to Charlene, a bottle-blond cougar who’d recently divorced and taken up with a much younger personal trainer named Jace, I saw the opportunity to let off some steam.

Jace was clearly dumb as a post, but I didn’t mind—after all, that’s what muzzles are for. He was in his mid-20s, furry and scruffy, with a chiseled body that showed through his tight T-shirt. And from the moment I looked in his eyes, I had no doubt he was at least bisexual.

After chatting him up for 10 minutes or so, I found what I was looking for: a pretext to get him back to our place. He said he was really into the Fast and Furious series, and I told him we’d just bought an imported box set that included tons of never-before-seen footage. Would he like to see it, maybe even borrow it? Of course he would. (Do we own any of the Fast and Furious movies? Of course we don't.)

I winked at Brian as Jace and I slipped away from the party. Leading Charlene’s trophy-jock across the yard, I showed him through our front door and closed it firmly behind us. Then he and I stood in the entryway, staring at each other for a good minute or two. No mention of Fast and the Furious. We just stared.

My cock twitched in anticipation, then twitched again. Finally, I glanced down at my crotch, gave my dick one more giant twitch, then looked back at Jace. With no change of expression, he simply dropped to his knees, pulled down my zipper, and fished out my rock-hard cock. It glistened with a layer of fresh precum. Opening his mouth wide, he engulfed me, sucking greedily and noisily—an experienced cocksucker for sure.

I reached down to the small of his back and snapped the waistband of his shorts. He took my cue: with both hands, he gave his shorts a firm downward yank, exposing the muscled curve of his ass. My dick responded by drooling a long, thick rope of toxic cum into his mouth.

“I need to fuck you,” I growled.

He paused to consider. “You clean, dude?”

My favorite dumbass question. “Of course,” I said with a smirk.

“OK, cool—but you still gotta wear a rubber.”

“No problem.” I grabbed him by the shoulders and guided him to his feet as I pointed toward the bedroom. “Now go get naked and wait for me on the edge of the bed.” Without even nodding, he did as he was told. Meanwhile, I grabbed the Tina-laced lube and followed him, shedding my clothes as I went.

Entering the bedroom, I found Jace wearing nothing but a backwards ballcap, on all fours, his back perfectly arched to expose a clean-shaven, wide-open hole. I was a little disappointed that such a hot, furry boy would shave his ass, but then I remembered that a lot of closeted “straight” boys do that—they don’t seem to realize that pigs like me often appreciate a man’s hairy butt, especially when it’s dripping with piss and sweat and seed.

“Look at you and your little shaved pussy,” I said to him, and he whimpered in reply. “You shave this because you hope some stud will mistaken you for just another bitch, huh?” Another whimper. “I bet you jack off thinking about a nice fat dick filling your cunt the way it needs to be filled. Don't you, boy?” He wagged his butt up and down, as if to say fuck yeah. “Of course you do, you fuckin’ faggot. Now listen, bitch: I’m gonna lube you up. But this lube is special—it’ll feel a little warm at first. It might even burn. That’s just how it works. Sort of like Icy Hot, you know? It’ll relax your ass muscles. Cool?”

He nodded his head, his jockbutt still bobbing up and down eagerly. I scooped up a thick glob of our magic pig-lube with my right hand, spread his fuckhole apart with my left, and used two fingers to firmly push a healthy dose of greased-up chems into that eager, defenseless cunt. He tensed up, probably feeling the burn, but I just stayed inside him, rubbing his lower back with my free hand, slowly rotating my fingers to work the T into the lining of his hole. After a bit more squirming, he gradually exhaled in a low, guttural moan, and I felt a radiant warmth pass across the skin on my knuckles. He pushed his ass back against my fingers, taking me deeper.

I grinned triumphantly: mine.

As I removed my fingers, he yelped in frustration. I laughed. “Don’t worry, boy—I’m just putting a little more grease for your hole.” I scooped up an even bigger glob, this time with three fingers, then pushed all three into him, massaging his quivering fuckhole as he made a sound that was almost like purring. Then I pulled out again, and he reached back to spread his cunt wide open. “Patience, fag, patience. My fingers can’t get far enough inside you. If this lube’s gonna do your hole any good, it needs to penetrate further. That way you’ll be totally ready for my cock.”

I reached into a side drawer and pulled out a needleless syringe that I’d prepared a few hours earlier by dissolving a strong bump of T in a little bit of water. (I always try to have at least one fully prepared booty bump on hand, just in case.) “You want to get lubed up nice and deep, bitch? Want to get your hole all good and ready for my dick?” He answered with a wordless groan. “Good answer, pig.” I inserted the plastic syringe as far as it would go, then pushed the plunger to deliver a giant payload into his guts. He arched his back even more as I pressed gently on his tailbone, letting gravity do the work of priming his hole for pozzing.

As the drugs seized control of his brain, his butthole started quivering. I rubbed the length of my dick along that hungry musclebutt; he responded by burrowing his head deeper into the sheets and spreading his legs a little more. “Oh, and one more thing, pig,” I said to him, pressing my mushroom head against his taint, “I don’t use rubbers. Ever. And if you insist on a condom, you’re not getting my dick. Understood?” He reached back and spread his hole a little wider. “You just spread your hole for me. Does that mean you want me to bareback your hungry hole?” No answer. “Tell me, pig,” I said, grabbing a rough handful of his hair and pulling his head back. “Do you want my raw cock?”

“Fuck dude, whatever,” he said, his voice shaking now. “I don’t fuckin’ care. Please shove your dick in me.”

“Not sure I heard that, pig. Say it again.”

“I don’t fuckin’ care. Please give me your dick. I need your fuckin’ cock, bro.”

“You want my raw cock to slide in you, pound you bareback, and fill you up with a load of my seed?”

“I’ll do whatever you want, fucker. Just please, please give me your dick. I can’t believe how fuckin’ hungry I am. Please feed me, dude.”

“Feed you what?”

“Cock, cum, anything. Seriously, bro. I’m begging you.”

I grinned. “Good boy. Now brace yourself.” He exhaled—a sigh of relief. Meanwhile, I held his ass in place with my left hand. With my right, I slid the head of my cock inside his smooth fuckhole, just holding it there for about 10 seconds as I lubed his butt with some of my toxic precum. At last, with no further warning, I pushed the entire length of my raw dick into him. He let out another deep sigh as his starving cunt spasmed against the skin of my shaft.

“You like this raw cock inside you, boy?”

“Fuck, dude. Please pound my hole.”

“You got any plans tonight?”

“Yeah. Just with my girl.”

“I want you to cancel. Got it? Cancel your plans.”

“Whatever you want, bro. Please just fuck me.”

“I’ll fuck you—don’t worry. But first you need to do what I say.”

“Absolutely. Whatever you say.”

“Alright, boy—then here’s what we’re doing. We’re getting dressed. We’re going back to the party. We’re saying our goodbyes. You’re cancelling your plans. And then you’re coming back here to get pounded by raw dick all night long. Are we clear, faggot?”

“Fuckin’ A. Yes, dude.”

“Don’t you worry, boy—your patience will be rewarded. I promise you that.”

As we talked, my cock kept twitching deep inside him—and with each twitch, his wide-open hole absorbed another little dose of my virus. He would need as much viral lube as he could get, because in a few hours he’d be at the mercy of Tristan, our merciless dealer. Tristan was full of surprises, but one thing was certain: by the time he got his dick in this boy’s slammed-up hole, Charlene would definitely need to find a new personal trainer to fuck.

MORE SOON...

[Guest bbcumlover81]

so fucking hot....

[Guest btnman]

so very fucking hot. great story - more please!

[vers4ruffbb]

so very fucking hot. great story - more please!

fuck yea...can't wait until the dealer uses this jock ass

[cublad]

lovely I wish someone would do this to my bubble butt

[mike43]

hot story wish I could have neighbors like that to use my hole

[Bttm2go]

What nice neighbors. Really hot story...thanks.