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Deviant Author’s Note: The details in this story were suggested by my buddy Psycho Mike, and fill me with disgust. MY Kinks can be summed up best in GUT RUSH 1 and 3.

GUT RUSH 2: Demon Seed

Little Tweeker Timmy looked so damn yummy tied up, spread eagle in that sling. His second hand chaps framed his smooth little butt, and his swollen red innards spilled out of his asshole, unable to retract after an hour or so of constant sucking and flooding. I knew I would need to use my fingers to push it back in before the guests arrived, but first I grabbed the greasy doorknob and opened the plywood door , exposing my bound begging boy’s hole to the passersby at the Z.

Reaching past his shriveled and friction burned pizzle, I wrapped my raw hand around the slimy mass, blossoming out his anus and began to massage it back inside. “How ya doin’, son ? Ready to get fucked?” He nodded. “Ready for a bump?” I whispered. “Please daddy….” “Is it in your locker?” He looked scared for a second like he was worried I’d steal his stash. “You remember you’re the little fuck who got daddy fucked up? All I’m flying on is those second hand chemicals you pissed up in your poppa’s guts. I ain’t untying ya, so if you want a treat, you’ll have to tell daddy were to get it.” Poor little Tweeker didn’t know what to do.

“Tell ya what, boy. I’m gonna need to see ten deposits of cock juice, before I give you that bump. Whenever you want to tell me where it is, I’ll be sure you’ll get it by load ten. Okay?” He nodded. “Now start tightening up for the nice gentlemen. I know a mean sperm donor who usually has that smelly dark room at the end of the hall” Again, Timmy’s eyes opened wide. He knew who I talking about. “So I’m going to need to gag you now, so you won’t cry for help and run away, or say “No” to any scabby, disease ridden pencil dick who wants to goop your guts. If you want your allowance, you’re going to have to serve all man kind.” Again the kid nodded.

After going down the dimly lit hallway for less than 3 minutes, I returned to find a fully clothed guy of about 35, pounding away on Tweeker Timmy’s ass. The kid looked like he was in a lot of pain, so I looked down to see what was going on at the point of entry. The sick fucker was wearing a rubber. Obviously the synthetic latex and harsh spermicides burned the hell out of my poor boy’s asswalls. “Hey Sport, let me lube that up for you,” I offered. I dropped to my knees besides the kid’s cunt, and the dude in corduroy pants pulled out of the kid. He wore a Magnum, and the golden cock baggy was stuffed full. I took the rubber monster and started sucking the best I could. Thank God it was covered in a little ass juice, because the plastic and chemicals tasted like a dildo straight from the packaging. Unnatural. Nursing in the monster head, I very carefully chewed a small hole in the reservoir tip, before telling the guy to plug the kid good. A minute later Mr. Corduroy started blissing out. “God your ass feels so good. So fucking hot…. so fucking wet. Man, I’ve never felt such a sweet hole.” His breathing started getting heavier as his humping grew faster. “That’s it,” I coached him, “Pound it in there. …Keep pushing…. Don’t pull out. Give it to him.” He roared as Timmy’s body quaked from a very obvious and intense anal orgasm. “Squeeze it tight, Son,”I whispered to the boy, “don’t let go of the nice man’s dick.” “Jesus Fucking Christ!” Mister Corduroy said looking down at the nine and a half inches he pulled out. All that was left of the condom was the latex ring, bound around the cock’s base. I bent down to clean him off, but he jumped back. “That’s fucking disgusting”, he said, trying to stuff the slimy monster back in his pants. “Shit, shit, shit,” he kept repeating as he ran for the door, no doubt heading to someplace where he could scrub the remains of real sex from his poor delicate skin.

“You better now, son?” He nodded and seemed to smile around the balled up jock strap stuffed in his mouth. “You guys sure scared the hell out of Nancy Boy, there.” My buddy said stepping into the room. “What can I say… for some reason, the condom broke.” Psycho Mike smiled. The only thing sicker than my tutor “Master Mike” were the demented bastards that sought out his services. To the best of my knowledge Mike was negative, but it was his life’s ambition to see every male in America, young or old, straight or gay, swimming with viral loaded spunk. As a rule, he only lent his service to the beautiful or the innocent because he thought they made the best carriers.

He wasn’t an attractive man himself- heavy, middle aged, pale, but that didn’t stop hundreds of stunning young men from approaching him with their death wishes. Looking at the kid, bound and gagged in the sling, he gave a wolf whistled and pulled out his cell phone. “Hey Pooh, you stupid fucking Maggot” he said into the phone, “I wanted to let you know I found that thing you two were looking for….. uh huh… about 19, smooth, blond, tied up in a sling here choking on a jock. What ? I’ll ask. With that he turned to me asking "Is it fucked up ? Is it tweeking?” I nodded. “Perfect… Get you fat asses down here right now. I don’t know how long he’ll stay put" and with that he hung up the phone. “Timmy needs to get another ten loads before I give him his allowance. Do you mind baby sitting him for a few minutes while I run down and extend my stay? Also, he needs to drink some fluids I’m worried he’s dehydrating. I got a six pack there, if you want to share it with him." “I’d be glad to, son. Let me go get some of my tools.” “Hey dad…. do you have any of your special gummy treats with you tonight?” “A couple. Why? Are you hungry?” “I thought I’d share them with your little grandson here.” This made Mike smile one of his sickest smiles. Timmy didn’t have time to protest, because as Mike walked out, Creep Old Guy #1 wandered in. “Can I fuck the kid?” “He has a latex allergy” I warned. “That’s okay, so do I.”

Dropping his towel, he stuffed his stubby little prick into the little blonds bowels and began to hump. The bars must have been closing, because the bathhouse was filling up quickly. In no time at all a line began to form. Creep Old Guy #1 grunted and creamed the kid’s innards, and was quickly replaced by Underage Tourist. Removing the key ring from the kid’s wrist, I whispered, “Just tell me when. Only eight more deposits to go." Mr. Sweet and Uncut, joined the line followed by Big Black Bill- not too pretty, but an amazing anatomical anomaly. More guys gathered to stroke off, pinch the boy’s tits, and watch the show. When I saw Psycho Mike in the crowd with his portable rim seat and other devices, I pulled a thick, permanent black marker from my bag, and wrote the word ‘TOILET’ on the kids hairless chest, with an arrow pointing up to his face. I explained to the crowd about the kid’s latex allergy, and mentioned that he was dying of thirst. Anyone who wasn’t pee shy, I told the studio audience, should just remove the stopper from his little urinal face, and then plug his bitch hole when they wanted to flush.

Mike said he’d need the room to himself once his buddies showed up, but by that time, Creepy Old Fat Guy #2 was shouting and adding load number six to the boy’s bowels. Stinky Homeless Guy cleared the room with the smell from his priape alone, giving Mike more room to set up. I explained to the crazy old derelict that my son would need to clean under his foreskin before I could allow him to plug the boy’s butt, but he just smiled a toothless smile, as I pulled the piss soaked athletic supported from my ‘son’s’ hungry gullet. He wanted to protest, but the old guy was too quick for him and had stuffed the smelly cheese log down into the kid’s throat, before he could say, “No.” “Do you want daddy to go get your treat?” Desperately, Timmy shook his cock stuffed face in agreement. As I understood it, a foreskin that couldn’t retract could be a terribly painfully thing, but Stinky Homeless Guy seemed perfectly happy as I helped him guide his fetid hooded meat into the kid’s juiced up fuck canal. Tear’s formed in Timmy’s eyes, but still he sucked. “Get your tongue in up in that tight skin,” I instructed, trying not to wretch from the stink emanating for the old guys foul clothes and unwashed body. “Excuse me sir, but I think you need to pollute my boy’s little cunt now,” I said, replacing the stinking jock, and gently helping the man with his underwear around his ankle waddle round to the boy’s waiting sperm bank. Standing in the doorway, Master Mike’s two guest watched with a bazaar combination of fascination and disgust as the crazy old guy rambled on about the satellites and the gooks, and his mother, the whore. It didn’t make sense, but it didn’t matter to the filthy vagrant. Soon he was crying for his mommy, over and over again, as he blew wad after wad of thick backed up nut slime into my boy’s spasming insides. He didn’t bother to tuck is cock back into he rancid boxers as he wandered out the door, just as I didn’t bother to offer cleaning under his foreskin.

In matching chaps and harnesses, the Leather Bears were dressed alike, and shaved a like and might have even been twin brothers if it weren’t for the different tattoos and cocks. Leather Bear 1 was born with a 6 inch fire plug, sticky out from above his hairy bloated tennis balls. Leather Bear 2 might have been a pumper if it weren’t for the upward trajectory of his long and swollen ram-rod. They shut the door behind them. Fire Plug Prick said to me, “You’re sure you don’t mind us doing this to your boy, Mister?” “Mind? It his Birthday. He’s been begging me for this since he was 10.” I assured them. “So did I lie, Maggot Brains ?”, Mike asked the bears, “Isn’t this what I promised you?” “He’s fucking perfect. Can we pay you when were done? No pockets.” “Show me what I taught you, and then we’ll worry about money.” “Hey there, son” Bear 1 said to Timmy, “I’m Paddington and this is Pooh, and we’re going to have to move you to the matt. Is it okay if we untie you…. For now?” Timmy dutifully nodded, the poor stupid little fuck.

The bears removed the arm and ankle restraints, and lifted the kid out of the sweat wet rig, like he was a pillow, but before he could stretch his arms and legs, they dropped him on the ground and fell on top of him. He tried to struggle but each one of them weighed three times his weight, so not surprisingly soon, his arms were tied across his chest,rope tied around each ankle had been looped behind his neck, force his legs apart, exposing his pouting pucker and shredded baby junk. “Listen here, Fuck Hole - we’ve only got one question for you, and all you need to say is “Please, please No sir,’ and we’ll walk away right now. You understand?” The gagged punk nodded. Placing his hand over the kid jock filled mouth, he almost plugged the boys nose, as he bent down and began to growl. “Me and my buddy here have a very special strain of very evil, very toxic poison brewing in our nuts. We want to impregnate you with our demon seed. We want to pump you so full of our little death babies that you’ll be sneezing lethal snot for the rest of you very short junkie life. What do you say? Do you want to die tonight? Do you want us to club the life our of you with our hairy death-sticks? IF you wake up…. do you want to wake up as a carrier of our Hyper Viral death seed, spreading our filth to every dude or chick who touches your little dick for the rest of you very, very short, very stupid junkie life ? …… OR do you just want us to castrate you and leave?”

Despite the disco droning outside, the room was silent. The boy looked me with wide eyes and very black pupils. “Do you want your allowance, young man?“ I asked. And then he responded, nodding in assent. As Bear 1 removed his hand from the kid's face, leaving a very clear and very red hand print on the tweeker’s pale cheek. He also pulled the balled-up sewer plug from the kid's mouth. “Please,” Tweeker Timmy whispered, before Bear 1 brutally stuffed the pissy supporter back into the boy’s mouth. “See!” Bear 2 roared. “He said PLEASE! Let’s do it now. I haven’t shot anything in three days. Come on - let’s tear-up his insides!” Master Mike had paused in setting up the rim seat to listen to the exchange. The six pack of beer sat on the table, and he had hung three large transparent enema bags on the wall. “It sounded to me like he said , ‘Please castrate me.’” All eyes turned to me to decide which “Please” the fucked-up kid meant. “If he’s going to play this game, I’ve gotta hear him say it all.” This whole scene was suddenly way too strange for me, and I needed to extend my time in the room. What ever happened, the boy both earned and would need his treats. “Let’s hear it…” Mike added. Removing fist and jock, Bear 1 pushed his stubbly face against that of the frightened, wet kid and snarled, “Well? What “please” was it?” Timmy took a deep breath and wiggled his tongue and sore jaw. “Please… Please Uncle Padington, please poison my hungry cunt. Kill it. Fill me with your bad seed. Please Uncle Pooh please ram and damage my insides with your lethal cock sause.” And finally to me, “Pleeeeeeese Daddy, say I can have their sick semen?” He wasn't quite finished, however, because he babbled on saying “Please drag me to hell, Uncle Pooh. Let me rot with every fucker who ever filled me. Burn my guts. Let me burn for you Uncle Padington. I promise to pass it along to every pussy I plug. Please poison me, sirs. I need your toxic seed.”

I had to step out. This scene was way over the top for me. As I was leaving the room, Psycho Mike handed me a thick, half filled lamb skin condom, knotted at the top, and winked as I stepped pass, “Grandpa’s special breed. I’ll save the other one I’ve got until you come back, son.”

The Tweeker Timmy’s Tasty Tale concludes in GUT RUSH 3- Used Condom Surprise

Edited by Hotload84
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I've moved this story to the Chem Sex Fiction section because, even if the chem part is fairly tangential, the desire for a bump seems to motivate the Tweeker's acquiescent to his Daddy's debauchery. I seem to recall an article in one of the weekly newspapers here in Philadelphia discussing the interface of drug-use and HIV transmission. This story would seem to follow suit.

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This paragraph, “Me and my buddy here have a very special strain of very evil, very toxic poison brewing in our nuts. We want to impregnate you with our demon seed. We want to pump you so full of our little death babies that you’ll be sneezing lethal snot for the rest of you very short junkie life. What do you say? Do you want to die tonight? Do you want us to club the life our of you with our hairy death-sticks? IF you wake up…. do you want to wake up as a carrier of our Hyper Viral death seed, spreading our filth to every dude or chick who touches your little dick for the rest of you very, very short, very stupid junkie life ? …… OR do you just want us to castrate you and leave?” has put me over the edge for the past several nights, since reading this the first time. WCCOCKPIT, you'd better get that casting couch ready, Sir.

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Ah, WCCOCKPIT, what a sweet and kind posting. With the holidays here, I'm home alone, so hoping for some calls from those very men you describe. Meanwhile, I'm eagerly looking forward to your third installment. Love your perverted mind and imagination.

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  • 4 weeks later...

FUCKING GREAT STORY!!!!!!!!!!! I would sell a kidney to be in Tweeker Timmys place.,.......... Every line crossed in one session and whatever is left of a lifetime to remember and share the consequences.

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