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Part 1.

 

I was being fucking stupid, I knew that from the start. I knew it when I was at home, cleaning myself out and shaving everything below the neck. I knew it when I left and got the train to some place I'd never heard of before. I knew it when I walked up the drive to the address I was given and knocked on the door. And I especially knew it when the door was opened. Standing butt naked, letting me in, was an indian guy, small but with a huge cock, which was already rock solid.

 

The second I was in, it was too late for me to stop being stupid - I was immediately forced to my knees. His cock filled my mouth and I sucked it, tasting his skin and precum on my tongue. His cock was just as big as it looked in the pictures. A solid nine inches, thick and brown. He forced it down my throat, gripping my blonde hair tightly, with no regard for any pain he caused me. After a few thrusts, he let go, pulling his cock out and smacking me with it, leaving a splat of my spit and his precum on my face.   

 

He led me from the hallway into the next room - I knew not to get off my knees, but to crawl behind him. The room should have been a living room, but if it ever had normal furniture, that had all been stripped out and replaced with a sling, a fucking bench, and table that I couldn’t see the top of, and the contents of which I could only guess at. There was also set up several cameras, positioned so that they wouldn't get in the way of what was to come.  

 

There were three people in the room - the 9 inch Indian who had let me in and fucked my throat already, a white skinhead, as naked as the first guy and with a chunky piercing in the tip of his chunky eight inch cock, plus several other piercings throughout his body, and a black guy, fully dressed in leather chaps, a jock and a waistcoat that did little to cover his muscular body. I knew to crawl straight over to this one and kiss both his boots, then wait.  

 

No one spoke, and without needing direction, the skinhead went to the table and pulled from behind it an empty backpack. He dropped it next to me, and I knew I was allowed to stand, though only briefly, to strip down to my jock, putting my shoes, socks, jeans, t-shirt and what little possessions I brought with me all in the bag. The skinhead took it away again, and flung it unceremoniously through an open door on the other side of the room, behind the sling. Then he and the Indian converged on me.  

 

The Indians dick slipped between my exposed buttcheeks, grinding against my hole, still slick from my spit. He grabbed my hips and pulled me back against him, his body fully pressed against mine. The skinhead, meanwhile, stood in front of me, between me and the leather clad man. He took my nipples between his fingers and started twisting them harshly as he forced his mouth against mine, shoving his tongue deep into my mouth. A metal stud on his tongue smacked against my teeth as it slivered in, filling my mouth almost as much as the cock had earlier. I moaned into his mouth, and felt his cock hardening against me, the ring going through it rubbing against my now bulging jock pouch. Behind me, the Indian started kissing and biting my neck, sinking his teeth in deep. I pushed my ass out against his cock, I wanted him to fuck me right now, though I knew he wouldn't. They were only trying to see if I’d lose my nerve and beg them to let me leave, but there was no chance of that.   

 

Sure enough, with a snap of fingers behind the skinhead, both bodies suddenly separated from mine, so quickly that I nearly fell over, having not noticed that I had been using them to support myself. I immediately sank to my knees again, and looked up at the ringleader. He reached out and grabbed me by the hair, and dragged me across the room. Still holding my hair, he made me look into a full length mirror behind the fucking bench. I'd always been skinny, and my pale, hairless body looked smaller than ever in comparison to the bulking black monster that held me so firmly. The skinhead and Indian had begun kissing and wanking each others dicks while they waited for the leather Daddy to do his thing.

 

"Say it." He said. He didn't shout, and yet the command was barked with harsh force.  

 

"I'm a stupid whore, Sir." I answered, not breaking eye contact with him through the mirror. I knew every word of what I had to say off by heart. I knew it was all being recorded too.  

 

"And why are you a stupid whore?" He asked, tightening his grip in my curly blonde hair, making me wince, but not stumble from the plan.  

 

"Because I came here tonight." I answered.  

 

"What's going to happen to you here?"  

 

"You're going to pump me full of drugs." I answered. "Then you're going to fuck me and pump me full of your cum."  

 

At this point, his other hand came round and gripped my throat. I could feel his leather covered cock pressing into my back. "And you want that?" I answered yes and he asked "Why?"  

 

"Because I want your toxic loads." I answered, and he demanded 'why' again. "Because I'm fucking stupid, but my boyfriend is stupider. He cheated on me, so I'm going to become a poz fucker and convert him too!" I didn't break eye contact the entire time. And with that, no more words were said. Pulling me by my throat, he dragged me back across to the other two, where they took it in turns to ram their cocks down my throat. Meanwhile, I could only hear the leather Daddy as he did something near the box and drug board.  

 

It didn't take long before both guys were going all the way down to the hilt in my throat. My nose buried into the hair of the Indian - I'd never taken anything in me that big before. My pathetic boyfriends cock wasn't even six inches, and barely tickled the back off my throat. I struggled and gagged around it, and he showed no sign of caring about my difficulty, gripping my head tight and fucking my mouth. When the skinhead took over, his dick might not have gone down as far, but the P.A. scratching inside me made it all the more difficult to take. He forced it down even harder than the Indian.   

 

Behind me, I heard boots approach once more. He dropped several things down, then grabbed my hips and pulled, making me stick my ass out as far as it would go without stopping me from reaching the cocks I was serving. I felt something on my back - he was writing on my shoulders with a pen, though I was too distracted by my work to follow it in my mind and work out what he wrote. After that, he moved lower down and wrote something else, that took longer, then I felt him draw an arrow on each of my ass cheeks, pointing to my hole.  

 

After that, they all moved together, like a planned attack. I was pulled to my feet, with the Skinhead wrapping his arms around me and holding me still, while the Indian held out my arm. The leather Daddy wrapped a strap around my arm and pulled it tight. It was over in a flash. Needle in, injected, out, strap off. With that, my head, my whole body suddenly burst with sensation. I coughed as I was shoved back to my knees, and a cock filled my mouth again. I didn't even know who's at first, though the piercing soon tipped me off. I didn't need any help to force myself down to the base this time - I swallowed it with a greedy hunger. At the same time, I felt a probing in my ass, and immediately thrust my hips out to meet it. The Indians tongue pushed straight into my waiting hole, where I felt it wiggle and squirm, shoving itself in and out and in again. I moaned around the skinheads cock as I got tongue fucked.  

 

This went on for a while, till the Indian guy stopped and repositioned himself so that his cock was pressed against my ass. The cock in my throat was pulled out so quickly, i worried for a moment that the piercing might cut something. All fear was quickly erased though, as a strange mask was forced over my nose and mouth. I breathed in deeply without even thinking - it smelled heavily of some chemical, and I knew I'd smelt it before in gay bars. It was poppers, and my already airy head was swimming after a few breaths, but the Indian held it on even still. I pushed my ass out against his cock again, moaning into the mask. I felt his spare hand slip between us and, with the precision of a pro, he lined up his cock with my hole. Still wet and desperate to be filled, my ass barely put up a fight, and the nine inches of cock shoved straight down till I could feel his pubes and his balls slap against me.  

 

I moaned, loudly, into the poppers mask. My virginity, which I could never convince my completely bottom boyfriend to take, despite his promises, was shattered in an instant. The Mask was dropped from my face as the Indian wrapped his arms around me. Our bodies were touching as much as they could, and I could feel his hot breath on my neck, as he started pounding my hole. He had mounted me like a dog, and panted like one in my ear, occasionally kissing or biting or sucking on my neck. Meanwhile, the skinhead circled around us like a predatory animal, growling encouragements to his friend, or insults to me. "Fuck that little cunt!" He said. "Fill that hole - he'll never want it empty again."  

 

I was practically being fucked into the floor at this point, but the skinhead knelt down in front of me, grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head up, all without disturbing the pounding the Indian was giving my ass at all. He waved his cock in my face, smacking it against my cheeks and knocking the piercing against my lips. "See this?" He asked me. "You know what I'm going to do once he's done? I'm going to ram this right up your fucking cunt, and fuck you so fucking hard that you'll get all torn up inside. Our cum and our bug will go right into your blood. You're not walking away from this without it. No fucking chance!" And with that, he forced his cock down my throat and started fucking it.  

 

His words had got me so hot, I could feel my cock beneath me, rock hard, despite being crushed by my weight and the force of the Indian fucking me. It had slipped from my jock, and I was leaking precum - the only neg cum in the room, I thought, and that made me even harder. The Indian was obviously encouraged by what he heard too, as the speed and the force of his fucking picked up. He started moaning louder and louder, and each thrust seemed to slam down harder and harder. The whole time, the skinhead had been running his hands through my hair, half stroking, half pulling as he fucked my mouth. Finally, with a mighty howl, the Indian shoved his cock deep into my ass, his body convulsed, and I could feel his hot load blow up into me. Shot after shot blasting up, coating the insides of my ass completely. It felt like more cum than I'd ever seen one person produce before, and as his orgasm subsided, he started fucking his load into me again.  

 

Both cocks left me at the same time, the one in my ass now softer than the one in my throat. In my haze, I didn’t even see the Indian disappear from the room, he just seemed to vanish. The skinhead didn’t, and instead pulled me to my feet and forced me across the room, towards the fucking bench. He slammed me over it, grabbing both my arms and pinning them to my back with one hand, while the other grabbed my hair once more and yanked, pulling my head and holding it in a position so that I had to stare at the mirror in front of us. I noticed then that we were the only ones in the room - the black leather daddy had slipped out at some point. The skinhead needed no help to get his cock lined up with my hole, and rammed his pierced dick straight into the cum filled hole, making me moan and close my eyes.  

 

With a jerk of his hand in my hair, he half-yelled at me. “Don’t you fucking close your eyes, faggot!” He growled, shaking my head and fucking my ass hard. “You’re going to watch me convert your fucking ass, got it?!” I nodded as best I could, and I didn’t break eye contact with his reflection again. He didn’t take long, but I felt each and every thrust into me. With every few thrusts of his hips, he’d change how he fucked me. First he forced himself in as deep as he could and kept it there, moving only slightly as he bucked and grinded into my hole. After that, he pulled out completely, and repeatedly stabbed all the way back down to the hilt before pulling all the way out again, spearing me multiple times - the piercing making itself known with each and every penetration.  

 

I could tell he was getting close when he began fucking me properly, not pulling out but making me feel the full length of his eight inches as he pounded into my ass. The whole while, he kept talking. “Stupid fucker!” He said. “No fucking clue what you’re doing to yourself! This viral load is going to knock you right the fuck up! Better be ready for it! Are you fucking ready for it?!” He demanded to know.

 

I yelled out. “Ah fuck yeah! I want your load in me! I want to be a poz Fucker like you!” My words obviously got him going, as with a wordless shout, he slammed deep into my ass and released his load. It went on just as long as the first load I took, and he began fucking it into me as well, though he went on longer than the Indian had, pounding my ass. I could feel the slickness in there, and some of the cum dribbled out of my ass and down my balls, which hung underneath, smacking into the fucking bench whenever the skinhead slammed back in. Finally, the skinhead pulled out.  

He let go of my hair, but not my arms. Once his cock was free, I felt him shove several fingers in instead, and I could feel his nails digging into the walls of my ass. “Gonna make fucking sure!” He said and, sure enough, when he pulled out his fingers and showed them to me in the reflection, I could see some blood mixed in with the cum. With that, he let go of me, and once again forgetting to support my own weight, I slid off the side of the bench, falling into a pile on the floor.  

Edited by WritingBug
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Part 2

 

My body already felt tired and aching, yet I knew the night wasn’t over yet. The skinhead picked me up by my arm, and dragged me over to the sling, dropping me into it and leaving me for a moment. He came back with the rubber strap for my arm, another needle and the marker pen. Before setting me up for a second hit, he drew two small lines on my chest with the pen. “You’ll be wanting to keep track.” He said with a cocky grin as he wrapped the rubber strap around my arm and stuck the needle in. “This will hit you a lot harder than the last one, mate! Just you fucking wait. You’re not going to remember a whole fucking lot about tonight, but what stays in your head will be with you for the rest of your life!” And with that, he whipped off the rubber strap and sensation flooded me once more. “But don’t worry. Everything you don’t remember will still be recorded!”

 

I watched myself in the mirror that was on the ceiling above the sling, and if I looked to the side I could still see myself in the mirrors for the fucking bench. Cum was leaking out of my ass, which felt empty, desperate to be filled again. Like the Indian, the skinhead seemed to just vanish, and I was left alone. I had no idea how long I was left alone for, I doubt I could have kept track of time even if there was a clock or windows or anything that would indicate it. I just hung there, waiting. My head was swimming and my cock had grown soft.

 

Suddenly, he was there again. The black leather daddy. I didn’t even notice he was there till the door slammed shut behind him. His leather jock was gone, but he had kept his chaps and harness. He crossed the room without a word, and I saw bouncing between his legs a cock much bigger than either of the ones I’d had so far. Without waiting and without word, he lined his cock up with my ass and shoved it in, all the way in, sinking inch after inch into me with only his friends cum as lube. He must have been 12 inches, if not more, but he slid right in till I couldn’t see his cock at all between my body and his. Only once he was all the way inside me did he say anything. His hand shot down and clamped around my throat, and he growled “Say it.”  

 

“I’m a stupid whore!” I declared, half slurring. He pulled most of the way out and slammed back into my ass, and again he ordered ‘say it’. “I’m a stupid fucking whore!” I said, louder, and he repeated his actions again. “I’m a stupid fucking whore!” I yelled this time, and it seemed to be enough. He took hold of my hips and began fucking me harder and faster than either of the previous two. If the cuts from the last cock were causing me any pain, I was easily too far gone to feel it. All I could feel was the incredible pounding of a full twelve inches being thrust into me over and over again. I couldn't help but watch myself in the mirror above me, watching that huge meat keep disappearing into my ass.  

 

Whenever I looked at the man fucking me, he held my eye contact, never blinking or slowing down. He was like a machine. It was all I could do to hold onto the chains above my head as I swung in rhythm with his thrusts. It seemed impossible, but he eventually started getting even more aggressive, and from that and his animalistic grunts, I knew he was getting close to the edge. I forced my ass to clamp around his cock as tight as I could manage, and the smirk that appeared on his face told me it was helping. I wanted to milk his cock for every drop - as far as i was concerned, this would be the load that converted me. The Indian and the skinhead may have gone first, but I'll always say that it was this load, shot into me by twelve inches of raw black cock, attached to a leather clad monster of a man that made me what I am.  

 

The pounding seemed to last forever, but finally, he let out a powerful howl of pleasure, rammed himself as far into me as he would go, and I felt him erupting into me, shooting his load deep into me, much, much deeper than either of the others had reached. Like them, he started fucking it into me as his orgasm ended, and I kept my ass as tight as I could the whole time, not wanting anything to escape. Finally, though I would have kept him there forever if I could, he pulled out, and I felt more cum dribbling down my ass despite my best effort to keep it all inside me.  

 

It was only after he pulled out that I became aware once more of the room around me - we weren't alone anymore, and it wasn't the two guys from earlier, though the skinhead was still among them. There must have been at least ten guys there now, all at various levels of undress. Two guys, both looking to be about my age, were on their knees, sucking whatever cock was stuck in their mouths. The others came in all shapes and sizes - there were two more black guys, another skinhead, an older guy who did not look healthy, but the massive cock between his legs distracted me from that. One guy looked quite near my age, though bulking with muscle, and a few of the others looked like they spent most of their time behind a desk. None of them had a cock as small as my boyfriends, though none as large as the one that had just wrecked me either.  

 

The skinhead from before stepped forward and once again strapped a rubber strap around my arm, and marking the third load on my chest with the pen. Before he'd even finished giving me the injection, the old, sick looking guy stepped forwards and plunged his cock into my ass, moaning something about how slick and cummy my ass was as he started fucking me, to the encouragement of the crowd. Once the strap was gone, I was gone. What followed was a blur of cocks being rammed up my ass and down my throat by all sorts of guys. The skinhead took me twice more, and at one point I was put over the fucking bench and spitroasted by the two black guys. Even the twinky cocksuckers had a go with me, calling me a runt or a bottom bitch. At some point, long before they were done with me, I must have passed out, as eventually my memory of the night cuts out entirely.  

 

When I regained consciousness the the next evening, I was alone. My bag of clothes had been left near where I had been dumped. I staggered to my feet and over to the mirror, struggling to walk. My legs and ass ans back and stomach were all covered in now drying cum, though I could still feel the moistness inside. I wondered how long they kept fucking me after I'd passed out. I inspected the marks on my body - I was covered in bites, and areas that were now beginning to bruise. The tally marks on my body were blurred by sweet, but I counted 24 marks, at least. The writing on my back was hard to read, but I could tell that it said "Stupid Whore". The writing near my ass was nearly completely unreadable - I could only vaguely make out the words 'Neg' and 'Poz'.  

I looked all around the house, but there was no one to be found anywhere, nor anything in any of the rooms. There was a bathroom, but it apparently had no water going to it, as I couldn't get anything to come through any of the fittings. Resigned to the fact that I'd have to walk home in my current state, I went back downstairs and dressed myself. I knew my partner wouldn't be home for a few days - more than enough time to recover and for the marks to fade to a level that he wouldn't notice. As i left, I wondered how long it would take for the virus to work its way through me and into him.

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My asshole still hurts so much... My asshole was contracting and was stretching and  later was contracting and stretching again...one and again and again.... I loved your story... thank you very much...  ^_^  ;)

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