As I lie here browsing Breeding Zone, it occurred to me that I probably don't have that long left. With that in mind, why don't I tell my story? It all began 6 years ago in earnest, but the situation I find myself in has probably been set in stone for the entirety of my life. 6 years ago, this was me:
I was 23, I worked hard on my body, and made sure I looked good. I was training to be a nurse, had a boyfriend, house, car, the lot. Life was going well, and the sex with my boyfriend was fantastic. However, there was a part of me that he could never fulfill. It wasn't a part of me that I ever thought would be fulfilled. I used to fantasize about being pozzed. The thought of it drove me wild. Only ever a small thing at first, a thought that would drift into my head on occasion if I was jacking off, but later it became all I could think about. The thought of toxic death being pumped into my hole - heavenly.
The fantasies grew, and I used to jack off thinking about getting knocked up and then pozzing my boyfriend. Obviously I could never tell him this, and as much as I loved him he had a real bias against guys with HIV. I knew that this was a secret I had to keep to myself, but as I fucked his ass at night I used to pretend I was putting him to death as I cummed.
Things changed when I got into work one cold, January morning. I was on assignment in a dermatology ward. Mostly spotty teenagers and old women with psoriasis. I was bored, and I'd told my boss at the time that I wanted a new challenge. "Good news, we're moving you", she said. I could tell she was delighted - she hated me, and the feeling was mutual. "Where am I going?" A smirk crossed her face - "There's a hospice downtown that needs a new nurse". Bitch. Hospice duty was notorious for being an awful assignment. Death all around, people at the lowest ebb of their lives. You were told as a junior nurse to try and avoid it at all costs. How ironic that that's where I now find myself...
Anyway, off I went to the hospice. It was in a fairly run down part of town. I sent my boyfriend a picture that morning:
And he sent one back:
Fuck he was hot - I made a mental note to not even say hello when I got home that night - I'd push him into the wall and fuck his tight hole until I exploded. I messaged back, 'Make sure you're lubed by 6pm x' and put my phone away. I could smell death as I headed into the hospice, and my inappropriate horniness soon died away. It upset me, the poor souls in here at the end of their lives, but I tried to put on a brave face. My new boss was a mousy little woman, and you could tell that the stress of working in this place for years had got to her. She perked up a little bit when she saw me though. I could see her, looking at me in my tight uniform. 'You're barking up the wrong tree dear' I thought.
We did the rounds, checking in on each patient. It was mostly older patients, and mostly women. I did my introductions and we checked vitals. "Now," the boss said. "This next patient - I want to warn you, this is a sad case. He is in the advanced stages of AIDS". I felt my cock jump, I couldn't help it. "This particular strain is a nasty one. No medications have worked for this patient. He was diagnosed as HIV+ 10 years ago. His condition has deteriorated at a phenomenal rate". Why oh why did I have such tight pants on? My cock was rock hard and I was praying she wouldn't notice. I moved the clipboard in front of my crotch. "He has no family or friends it seems," she whispered. "He looks awful, I'll warn you. You must take extreme caution around this patient. Gloves to be worn at all times please. He has a number of other STIs, but we can't treat them as we don't think his body could cope with the medication at this stage. He's very near the end".
We walked in to see the patient. He looked awful. Skeleton thin, lesions all over him. He coughed, a long, raspy rattle that made it sound like his lungs were trying to escape through his throat. He looked over at me and his eyes lit up. He smiled a toothless grin. He was 50 but didn't look a day under 90. "Hello," he whispered. "Good Morning Mr. Pearce," the boss said as she pulled on some gloves. She nodded towards to glove box and I started to put on a pair. "Please..." he rasped. "Call me David". We did his vitals, which weren't great, and as I made notes I could see him staring at me. Mentally undressing me. My cock was aching, trying its best to force its way out of the fabric of my pants. What was I thinking? This man had a fast-acting strain of HIV. He was dying of AIDS. But my cock didn't care. It wanted him. I decided to be daring, and I moved the clipboard. I could tell he noticed my straining cock straight away. He licked his lips greedily. I put the clipboard back.
"Who is your friend?" he said to the boss. "This is Nurse Bateman, he just started with us today". She had a way of talking down to patients that was starting to annoy me. "Good Morning David, nice to meet you". He flashed me a wicked smile. "The pleasure is all mine". We finished his checks and the boss gave him a little something to help him sleep. Before I knew it it was lunchtime. I hurried to the toilet and locked the cubicle door. My pants were down in seconds and I was milking my cock, thinking of David, imagining riding his toxic cock. I cummed hard, just as my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was the boyfriend. "How's the job going?" Just then, a wicked plan began to form in my mind.
I wanne take the load and blood from a full blown aids breeder that had a resistent virus so im taking and wanted to get aids! So who helps me? I can move
It had to be done. He had to be done. We had chatted for ages, over a year, but the time was now. He was never closer than he was today. Barely 100 miles away, his pleas where as persistent as ever. He sent me his address and postcode. As I excitedly left the house, I stopped to pick up a few items which we would need.
As I was driving along the M4 I was imagining what this boy-wolf was really like, and what his body would feel like against mine. What his ass would feel like around my cock. What his lips would feel like against mine. Would I be able to do it? Would I get there and fall in love with this half boy half animal creature? I had always said that, no matter what I felt for a boy, a job is a job. I thought I might struggle with this one as he was so very sweet with blond hair and a beautiful body. Thankfully I didn’t have to ponder long as my journey flew past. The time had come and it was now or never.
I rang the bell and he buzzed me up. Upon opening the door to his flat I found him in the hallway awaiting me, naked and bent over – ready to accept what I, as his new Daddy, was going to give him.
"Come on, Daddy. Get naked and breed my neg boy ass,” he offered as a greeting.
Well, who was I to refuse? I never before undressed so quickly.
He was still bent over, hands down by his ankles. It could not have been an easy position to maintain, but I wanted to survey the soon-to-be-damaged goods. I felt his perky nipples, covered in a light dusting of blond hair. I ran my fingers through his lovely head of blond hair. I sniffed his arm pits, noting he had, as directed, neither washed nor used deodorant. I inspected his boy cock, all shaven, as per my instructions. I licked under his foreskin finding his cock head decidedly cheesy, as specified.
I was in heaven, and he was no less pleased as he moaned in approval. It was time to stop teasing him, and get on with the task.
I stood up behind him; he could feel the cold steel of my big PA up against his ass cheek. I gobbed up a load of spit and rubbed it on my dick, and also put just a little bit on his arse. When I impaled him he had to know about it. I didn’t want it to be too easy for him. I was there for a reason, after all, a reason he sought. He wanted to be pozzed. He wanted to submit his body to the ravages of my bug. HIV, the disease they all try to avoid, yet he wanted it. And I was the chosen one. He had had poz cock in his neg ass before this occasion, but he had played safe. But this time he chose me to be his poz daddy. Who was I to argue?
No-one understands the immense feeling you get as a poz top when you slide your cock raw into a neg bottom boy. And this one knew what he was getting. Admittedly, sometimes it is eve more fun when the bottom does not know, and, when shooting a toxic load into such a bottom, I inwardly chuckle to myself thinking of the bottom "You have no idea what’s just happened to you. You have no idea of the damage I’ve just done to you – but you will wonder for the rest of your life, ‘who pozzed me?’. Yes, you will remember me for a very long time.”
This boy, however, had sought my special gift for a very long time, and would certainly remember how I, in having my way with his ass, had changed the course of his life. Even more clear, when I had done the evil deed, I was taking him to be tattooed. We had the design ready, all we needed was the result. The poz result. HIV+. The big bad love bug.
I slammed by raw cock deep into him. He almost lost his footing, it certainly took his breath away. Right in to the balls. I could sense his heart beating fast, and also feel his ass clamp down on my dick. Yeah, he knew what he wanted, and I would make sure this time he was going to get it, by fair means or foul, depending on one’s perspective.
Neither of us was going to last long at this rate. I slammed my toxic dick deep in and out, my balls truly banging his ass. I was going to give this bottom his first unrubbered poz load, which iswhat I did in shooting a bigger load into his hole than I ever recall having shot into any other bottom. I fucking thought I might lose consciousness as a consequence of the orgasm. It was that hard.
Without touching his dick he came at the same time, of course blowing his load all over the floor. I held his ass cheeks together as I pulled out, wanting to keep my toxic seed in the boy’s neg ass. Turns out, my dick was covered in his blood. I had obviously done some damage. I presented myself for him to clean. Initially he baulked, but a swift knee to the gut told him that was an error.
He licked my cock, and on the first go-around his tongue was covered in shit and blood. That was more like it. I told him he could go and lay on the bed, that I would be in shortly.
I retrieved a little something from my shirt pocket, went into the bathroom, locked the door and sat on the commode. Using a hand towel, I tied off my arm and took out the insulin syringe I had carried into the bathroom. I found the vein as they do at the clinic, and pulled out 50ml of blood. Good healthy toxic blood. I pulled the needle out, capped the tip, wiping my arm with some toilet roll. Then I went out to find him. He wasn’t expecting this so I told him to close his eyes, explaining I had a surprise for him. He lay on the bed, looking so sweet, eyes closed and in a post-fucked euphoria.
I remarked he looked cute, but he was to keep his eyes shut. Boy, was he gonna get it. Uncapping the needle I walked over to him, picked up his hand and played with it, syringe in my mouth. I felt-up his arm and found his vein. BINGO! I took the syringe in my right hand and slid it straight in. Yeah, he jumped but it was too late. He opened his eyes and had a look of horror on his face. There in his arm was a needle full of toxic blood and he knew it. There was no turning back. He asked me why, I told him it was the best way. He looked at me and grinned and said “I’m glad, can I do the honours?”
I replied "Feel free, press the plunger and change your life forever.”
He looked at me, and, placing his fingers on mine, we jointly pushed down the plunger on the syringe. Soon enough, all my toxic blood was in him. There was no doubt. He was now my bugboi.
Time to book the tattooist.
Today was my first day on the job as an AIDS Hospice worker. My agency provides in-home services and proudly specializes in what they term “loving care.” I had received hours and hours of training, but this was to be my very first case.
I was 2 minutes late when I rang the doorbell. A tall, fair-haired man opened the door. He had a pleasant face but at that moment, he looked tired and rather stressed out. He stepped back and beckoned me to enter. “Hi! I’m Bill. You’re here to see Martin, right?”
I replied, “Yes! Hi…I’m Joey…from the agency!”
“Well…thank God that you’re here!” he said. “He’s been asking for you!”
“I’m not sure how much longer he’s going to last,” Bill said as he walked me up the stairs to the master bedroom, which had been converted into a sort of hospital room. “I know that he’s excited to be seeing you! He’s been saying that there’s something that he wants to give you before he goes.”
I didn’t know what he was referring to, but…looking back…would it have made any difference? I was trained to see to any and all needs that my client had, right to the very end.
Bill tapped on the bedroom door and opened it gently. “Martin? Are you awake? Joey’s here to see you!”
After entering, I saw Martin lying on the hospital bed. Although now he was emaciated by the disease, at one time he must have been a rather fit and good-looking man. He had a ready smile and I could still see a passionate fire smoldering in his eyes!
He said, “You must be Joey! I’m SO GLAD to finally meet you…SO GLAD that we can spend some time together!” He turned to Bill, “Could you bring Joey a cup of tea?”
Tea is not really my thing, but like I said, I’m here to serve. When Bill returned with a cup and saucer, I murmured my thanks!
Bill nodded and said, “Well…I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll check back in a bit!”
There were no chairs in the room. Martin patted the spot next to him on the mattress, “Here! Come sit on the edge of the bed next to me. We can get to know each other.”
I sat down, holding the tea saucer on my lap. We chatted about this and that. Even though this was our first encounter, he seemed exceedingly pleased to have me there. His cheeks had a feverish flush and his eyes burned brightly.
“So…how’s your tea? Earl Grey, is it?” he inquired.
I politely took a sip and said, “I’m not sure…but it tastes good!”
Out of the blue, he asked me about my HIV status. When I informed him that I was HIV-Negative, his face lit up with an amazing smile. It was like the sun suddenly coming out from behind the clouds.
“I, on the other hand,” he said, “have an incredibly high viral level! I bet that I’d convert you…I mean, someone like you…in no time at all! It makes me horny, just thinking about it!”
His hand found its way onto my thigh. As we continued talking, he left it there. It didn’t really bother me, so I said nothing. Soon, however, his fingers began to trace lazy circles, almost as if he was trying to seduce me. In the interests of propriety, I tried shifting my leg a little but his remained perched where it was. He kept telling me to finish my tea, so before long, the cup was empty.
I started to feel unusually tired.
Martin asked, “Are you OK?”
I answered, “Yeah…it’s just that all of a sudden I really feel like going to sleep.”
Martin’s response was, “That’s just the knock-out drops kicking in. Don’t worry! They only last a few minutes. Here now…just relax! You’ll be alright!” I heard him call out, “Bill!” and vaguely heard the bedroom door open.
As if from a distance, I heard Bill’s voice say, “I’ll get his things off!” Hands tugged at my clothes and then, at some point, I was aware of being naked. Bill’s voice came again. “Here you go! Up on the bed with you!”
After that, I must have drifted off. At some point, my eyes popped open. I could feel what must be a large stiff cock, inching its way up inside me. Where was I? Someone’s fingers were playing weakly with my nipples. I became aware of someone’s hot labored breath on the back of my neck.
I managed to speak. “Martin? Is that YOU?”
A voice said, “Relax! I told you that you’d be alright! It’s just me! I wasn’t sure you’d want me making love to you…you know…you being NEGATIVE…and with my AIDS and all. This will be my last time and I wanted it to be with someone special like you. I hope you won’t hold this against me for doing this.”
Once I was past the initial shock of my situation, I was able to put things into perspective. Martin had needs. Needs that only I could fulfill for him. Wasn’t that part of my job, after all?
Martin, along with so many others, was entitled to the same joys and physical pleasures as the rest of us. I felt as if were my duty to open myself to him and provide what comfort I could.
His hips started moving, pumping his organ in and out of my hole. God, it felt so good! His hands continued to paw at my chest as my back arched with delight. In his weakened state, he didn’t last very long.
“Joey!” he cried. “Take my SEED! I’m passing my virus on to YOU! Treasure it! Keep it safe within you and let it flourish and grow. Let my DNA join with yours! That way…I’ll live on inside of YOU!”
His body started to spasm. His hips slammed into me 3…4…5 times…and then held against me as the last of his toxic sperm drained into me.
“Don’t move! he whispered imploringly! “Let my seed find a place to latch on to your innards and begin to multiply! It’s my GIFT to YOU!”
It was the least I could do to remain there with him still inside me, his last diseased load beginning its assault on my immune system.
A few minutes later, Martin passed away, a contented smile on his face.
Bill re-entered the bedroom and helped me disengage myself. He handed me something and said, “Martin was hoping that you would use this!” It was a butt plug. “He wanted you to give his bug the best chance to spread throughout your body!”
That made perfect sense. I won’t clean out tonight. I’ll keep his gift inside me & cherish it as a way to honor Martin and keep some part of him alive inside me.
All I know is that, from now on, I’ll let our clients know that I’ll willingly offer my body as an incubator for their their viral seed.