Stigmatophilia

September 16, 2021

What have I gotten myself into? I'm still pretty spun at the moment so forgive me if this is a bit rambling. I just can't stop thinking of all the details.

To preface, I'll admit I'm a snob. I'm the son of a middle-eastern doctor couple with a posh RP British accent, smug air of superiority, and private school education: I'm the full package. I'm not gonna try to sell myself as a good person through all this, I'm actually quite classist, but I think it provides some context to how this unfolded.

It all probably goes back to the first time I was re-integrated into "normal society" when I left private school around 12 years old after a house move. I was used to being in a strictly traditional environment - correct elocution at all times, no slang, back straight, uniform neat, etc. Everyone's parents were businesspeople, lawyers, doctors, and the like: well-to-do, presentable pillars of society. The culture shock of seeing less-well-off people in a more deprived area was a bit much for me to handle. With my neat hair, tie and top button done up properly, and of course the unshakeable accent, I stuck out like a sore thumb.

One thing I simply couldn't wrap my head around was the body modifications and bling. Women wore modest jewelry and men wore basically none - that was what I knew. Yet surrounding me were lads walking around with cropped hair, diamond studs, and thick chains, dressed like the "unemployed wasters" and "chavs" my parents always warned me to avoid in the streets. As I got older, these turned from more hideable choices to obvious and irreversible things, earlobes hanging loose after being stretched and tattoos peeking out from under shirt cuffs, that would make any of my old social circle recoil in horror.

Anyway, that's enough pseudo-Freudian armchair psychology for now. I've since matured a lot. The accent stuck around for the most part, as did some of the deep-seated opinions about the above described people, though I became much more integrated and humble with age. As expected, I aced all my exams as a high-flyer and got into a good university for a fairly tough biological sciences course. The stress of the workload there eventually got to me, and a few breakdowns later, I joined the university gym for my mental and physical wellbeing. I started to feel better about myself, trim down a bit, and get muscular. Of course, the pandemic came and shut things down for a while, and university being university decided to ramp up membership costs at the gym after reopening. To save money, I signed myself up to the much cheaper local council gym - all the necessary freeweights, and just a 20 minute drive away, although less pristine and proper than some more up-market establishments.

The clientele there were hugely different to my previous gym. There were far fewer posh boys using rowing machines and benching an empty bar to say the least. I felt like the youngest there by at least a decade, although still more or less on-par in terms of body size (except for the roiders). The place was full of skinheads, some people who looked high on crack, and a few faces I recognised from the local news as violent criminals. The first time I stepped in, I got an uneasy, twisting feeling in the pit of my stomach from just being around them. Needless to say, I never became particularly social there.

Among them, though, there was one who stood out. He seemed fairly sociable and chatty with the others, but never interacted with me beyond a quick glance; maybe ten to fifteen years older than me, in his mid-thirties. He was pale as though he hardly saw the sun, much in contrast with my darker skin, with a thin, almost gaunt face and a somewhat squinting gaze. From his cheeks to his neck he was covered in a moderate layer of stubble and his hair was hidden a baseball cap. His body was much more toned than mine as well: still relatively jacked, but with obvious, discernable muscles and veins as opposed to my more cub-like build. What stood out most was just how closely he fit that common waster archetype of man moreso than anyone else at the gym. Both of his arms from where his shirt sleeve ended down to his gloves were covered in tattoos (the left one of a twisting dragon or snake, and the right of a floral pattern, with other miscellaneous shapes in the gaps). The holes in his earlobes were held open with cheap, black, acrylic tunnels to about the diameter of two of my fingers. When he wasn't lifting, with admittedly excellent form, or talking to others, he spent his time flexing in the mirror and deciding whether his steel curb chain would look better inside or outside his t-shirt that day. Maybe it's because we were complete opposites in everything other than height, with him maybe only an inch or two taller than me, that I couldn't help but look on in fascination.

It was an eventuality that he'd notice me staring sooner or later.

Disclaimer here: I am exclusively into men (in case that wasn't obvious from the website I'm posting on). I used to call it "gay" but the politics at university put me off the whole labelling culture. I won't go on about some extensive history of being abused or groomed, or my many underage and young-adult sexual exploits because I have none: the attraction just emerged as I was going through puberty and I never acted on it until university given my overbearing yet intolerant parents. Even then, it was only a few dates I ever went on. They were tall, conventionally handsome, smart, and sensitive, but something about the guys I was meeting there just meant I was never invested enough to want to see them beyond dinner.

It was on my third day at that gym, shoulders in my routine, that he first spoke to me.

"Your form's a bit off, need some help?" a scratchy, slightly nasal, almost cockney voice called over my shoulder. I lowered my gaze slightly as I re-racked the weight and my eyes instantly fell on his. Instinctively, they flickered to some of his most noteable features and then away.

"No, I'm fine," I snapped, my tone obviously flustered and clearly harsher than it needed to be.

"Alright, mate, I'm just trying to help!" he replied, raising an eyebrow at me with a smirk and holding his hands up.

I huffed and re-mounted the barbell for my next set, my eyes casting a quick glance back to him before I did. I noticed his right sleeve extended a few branching patterns above his collar and half-way up his neck. Admittedly, I could feel my form was off. I had increased my load maybe a bit too much and there was a twinge in my back, along with the distracting degenerate standing behind me.

"Y'see? Your hips are just tilting a little bit to the right," he continued to critique as I tried to keep my eyes on myself "If I just..."

With those three words I felt a weight on my hips gently guiding them to the left and forward. I glanced down and saw him close against my back with his toned, inked arms readjusting my stance. He was close enough to smell his bitter, chemically, musky cheap aftershave with an underlying whiff of tobacco on his breath. I felt an electric jolt shoot down my back, into my groin, and down my legs as I lost my balance and threw the bar clumsily back on to the rack.

"What do you think you're doing touching me? Don't touch me! You threw off my form and I almost injured myself!" I shouted, my face turning bright red as I continued to react to him and draw attention to myself.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" he asked laughing "Felt something with my hands on your hips, eh?"

With that I stormed off out of the gym. Workout be damned - I was too embarrassed to continue. I hopped back in my car and drove back to my student flat, telling myself it was that mutilated, showy chav that was the problem, not me. Without giving myself time to think, I went straight to bed.

Now, some details about this gym - it's right on the outskirts of town, between a depressingly grey council estate of sprawling house-flats and an opposingly beautiful forest.

I got through my day of studying, seminars, and lab work, then headed out to the gym for leg day and to finish my shoulder routine. I got a couple of awkward glances from people who recognised me from the previous day's outburst, but for the most part people had either forgotten or didn't care. I maintained my load mainly, just increasing reps, and finished up shortly before closing time. It was still fairly light out as I left, so I noticed from a distance when I saw him propped up against the driver's side door of my car.

"Pretty nice vehicle you got here," he taunted "How much did it set your parents back?"

I bit my lip to hold back my urge to say something along the lines of 'more than you'd ever see' and asked him to move out of the way.

"Nah mate, you gotta get something off your chest," he responded, "and once you do that, then I'll let you go home."

"I'll just call the police," I responded.

"Fine," he said, stepping back from the car and turning to walk towards the forest "just keep your problems bottled up then."

As he left, I reached for my car handle, then stopped. I looked directly over to him, taking in his general figure rather than his strikingly chavvy features for the first time. A thought came to mind, but before I could acknowledge it I snuffed it out and locked my car door, chasing him down the public footpath.

"What do I need to get off my chest?" I asked him, still a bit flustered.

"You're asking as if I know," he replied. I moved to get mad at him for wasting my time when I noticed that same smirk again as my dark, brown eyes locked with his milky blue ones. He knew something about me that I didn't, or at least that I wasn't admitting. The look made me feel uncomfortable.

"Is it really that obvious if I have some problem?" I continued, my tone quieter, almost defeated.

"I noticed you constantly looking over at me since you first joined," he mentioned "or at least at parts of me..."

"I just..." I started, then trailled off, not being able to find the words to articulate myself.

"Let me guess, you're a rich kid, sheltered by your parents and groomed into being perfect. You constantly look for approval from older snobs and such so you can fit into the upper crust and live a decent, presentable life. Despite that, you've seen lads like me who look so different to what you've been told that your curiosity can't help but make you look. I'm so far off what you've been told a person should be like that you want to know more," he reeled off, almost rehearsedly "Is that right?"

I was lost for words. He'd articulated my thoughts perfectly, better than even I could to myself. I started to wonder if maybe he wasn't quite as idiotic as I'd first assumed. I didn't know what else to say but nod.

"I'll be honest, mate, you're the first posh boy I've seen who seems more interested than just put off," he continued "I'm actually interested what keeps you looking at me."

"Well, it's just that..." I started, pausing to gain confidence "Why would you spend time and money just to look like that? I could understand if it was just your natural features, but you've put effort in trying to screw up how you look!"

"You nervous about asking? It's a talking point, and I like how it looks," he responded with a chuckle "That's just who I am, like how you don't have any tatts and you lift and you talk all posh because that's who you are. I'm proud of this look; fuck everyone else."

"And it doesn't get in the way of getting a job?" I interrogated.

"Loads of people get rich with body mods - take basically any celebrity!"

"And you?"

"I couldn't wrap my head around GCSE maths even. I just do... this and that, on the side of the dole," he said with a wink, taking amusement in my expression "basically already accepted I'm not gonna get any higher than odd manual labour jobs."

"Do you feel it?" I blurted out "As in, not when you had all that stuff done, but now. Do you feel it in?"

"Heh, you really are curious, aren't you? The tatts, not really, but I see them in the mirror every day; they're a part of me forever. The gauges, yeah. They're just a bit heavy - lets me know they're in for everyone to see when I'm out and about. Never got any other piercings because I figured these were enough to look how I want - rough and masc," he explained "I can't explain how they feel to someone without them really, but I don't think you should get any for yourself if you want my two cents. Hope that's what you wanted to hear."

I stared for a moment, then averted my gaze. His answer was basically everything I hoped to know, all of my questions answered, but I couldn't admit it for whatever reason. He patted me on the back with a chuckle at my response, sending another electric jolt down from my back to my perineum.

"I wonder if you know you're gay yet," he pondered out loud.

"What? Oh don't try that psychoanalitical mind game bull with me," I sighed "Of course I know I'm into dudes. You got a problem with that?"

"Don't worry, I ain't a big fan of women and tits either. And you're using 'into dudes' rather than 'gay' for the same reason you like to lift," he said, hitting a nerve once again as he read me like a book "Not because you're in denial, but because you never really clicked with the whole gay crowd you met before, right?"

"What's your point?" I asked, dodging his question rather than conceding.

"You're a bright lad. Hell, you got into uni. You still haven't put it together? You're curious about men with body mods and my look but don't want to get any yourself, and you're into lads."

"No..." I responded uncertainly as we arrived back at the gym car park. I noticed the expression on his face drop from amused to slightly concerned as he looked ahead. I turned to see what had caused the shift in his mood to see the gates to the car park firmly locked and the gym's lights out, with my car still stuck inside the car park.

"Shit, mate. Sorry!" he apologised, running a hand across the back of his head "I let it get a bit late."

"Damn, I'll have to walk back home," I sighed "A bit of cardio, at least."

"Nah, mate. Would not recommend that around these parts if you wanna keep your head on your shoulders... bit of an EDL crowd around this ends if you know what I mean," he explained with genuine concern in his eyes.

"I see. What would you suggest I do?" I asked hesitantly.

"You gotta work tomorrow? If not, you could crash at my place?" he offered "Hell, could be nice to have someone to chat to before bed."

I thought about it and reluctantly agreed. I had nothing scheduled for the next day and could catch up on lab work and study over the weekend. He hadn't attacked me in the forest with ample opportunity to do so, even when he found out about my orientation. I went along on the condition I got his name: Kyle. He asked for mine as well, and chuckled at how I definitely wouldn't last five minutes walking through this part of town by myself.

We arrived back at his flat: the upper floor of a drab, mass-produced, sixties-era brick of a two-storey around two minutes from the gym by foot. As I stepped in, I was met with the smell of tobacco and his bitter cologne rich in the air. I coughed a bit and he offered me some water before we both sat down at opposite ends of a worn sofa. I glanced over to him to find him staring back at me with a soft smile.

"What's the matter?" I asked, shifting nervously in my seat.

"I should be asking you! You're so tense!" he chuckled "Wanna hit some tina? Loosen up a bit"

"What?"

"Tina: meth," he elaborated, pulling out a burnt glass pipe and a small baggie "my treat!"

"Meth?! Are you insane?"

"Ever smoked weed before?" he asked.

"A couple of times... but meth?" I followed.

"They're both class B," he carried on, heating the pipe and taking a hit "Same crime! You wanna loosen up a bit so we can chat or am I doing this alone?"

I agreed cautiously, falling both for his logic and some deep-seated tugging curiosity I couldn't identify. The smell and taste was instantly familiar - he wasn't wearing any 'chemical aftershave' before. I started to feel slightly more relaxed in myself, and a bit more energised, almost like I'd had a good espresso. He asked if I was OK and I nodded with a cough.

"Great... so... 'into lads'..." he said, stretching back "been getting much action recently?"

"Nah, I'm a virgin," I responded bluntly "Not shy about it. My choice."

"For real? But mate you're fit!" he exclaimed a bit too loudly for comfort "You could have anyone, at least if you kept your trap shut! How old are you? Twenty-one?"

"Twenty-two," I responded "And I've had my fair share of dates. I just never clicked with any of them, and I want to save it for someone special."

"Man I was fucking as soon as I hit fifteen," he laughed "Just a bit of fun with other lads at school. None of them were all wanky rahs like you, though."

"Wanky rahs?"

"I mean that in a good way. You're cute, sorta. Not a huge fan of fem guys myself," he smiled "Now you're relaxed, you feel like admitting you know the connection between that and the ink and stuff?"

"Well, I guess you're a bit different to guys I've tried to date before, even to any I've associated witu before," I started unsurely as he nodded "and I dunno... I guess I had some sexual feelings about it? Like I'm curious about what other guys were lacking."

"Getting there," he said, offering me another hit of tina "How you feeling about it now?"

"I guess I feel like I want to get to know you a bit..." I started, prompting him to raise an eyebrow "and... I guess I already know some about you and haven't lost interest so I'm sorta further along than with those other guys..."

"You ever kissed anyone before?" he asked, leaning close.

"No..." I replied softly, my stomach doing backflips as I lifted my head towards his face.

Kyle kissed me softly, closed mouth at first, then pulled away to look into my eyes briefly before going in deeper. I ran my hand behind his head and neck, brushing my fingers against his chain as his stubble scratched my face and his soft, damp tongue massaged mine. He pulled away enough for me to see him more fully and I panicked, withdrawing slightly.

"Take another hit of tina," he instructed, and I complied as he fiddled with his right gauge "I sussed you out when I first caught you nervously glancing at me. Your eyes went straight to my ears. One problem with these is maintenance. I haven't cleaned them since last weekend and you get a sort of smegma build-up under them."

Kyle removed the jewelry and I watched his ear flop down as he placed the tunnel, now coated with some white paste made of dead skin and such, on the table. It jiggled as he moved, making my dick twitch slightly. He reached for a tissue and wiped away the residual build-up on his ear, then leaned back over.

"You can't believe that people have these, can you?" he asked, looking into my eyes with dilated pupils as I shook my head "Let me see if my hunch was right then. I want you to feel it and stick your finger through my ear hole."

Without hesitation, I reached up and ran my hand up Kyle's neck and to his ear. It felt like my opportunity to fully confirm my fascination. I careessed the loose skin between my fingers at first, then pushed my index finger through. My dick jumped straight into an erection, even through the tina, as the warm skin hugged around my finger. He smiled, leaning in slowly for another kiss.

"Just what I thought," he chuckled "you're a stigmatophile, maybe a chav fetishist too."

"Those are some long words for a guy like you," I said as he whipped off his shirt, revealing the sleeves to coalesce in the middle of his chest where his shiny, thick, silver-coloured chain hung.

"I know my sex jargon," he smirked, sticking a thumb under his curb chain and rattling it to assess my response "it means you're turned on by tattoos and piercings; in your case lads with those. Seems like your dick likes a chain too! And before you ask, yeah the chain never comes off unless it's life-or-death."

"I like the contrast too," I declared, beginning to undress myself with a wave of relief "I like being all pure-looking like this with someone who isn't."

"Same here," he growled "Though the sorta sluts I've been with hardly looked pure. What should we do with the rest of the night?"

"I'm... not sure," I pondered hesitantly as some doubts began to set in "Kissing felt nice, but I don't know if I should have done it. God, I gave you my first kiss! I said I wanted to save myself. What about STDs and things too?"

"I'm HIV negative, and everything else negative, and taking PrEP too," he said hurriedly, scrambling through some papers to produce a document confirming his status from two weeks ago "but that aside, I think you're still holding back. You watched The Matrix?"

"Everyone has," I replied, now completely naked.

"Great, so you know when Morpheus offers Neo the blue pill or the red pill. You get what I mean when I say that too?" he asked, his train of thought almost jumping "You can choose to just stay as you are or fully understand what all your feelings are about. First though, I have to know... do you trust me?"

I nodded, my inhibitions more far gone than I had known before, and watched as Kyle produced a tray from under his sofa, on which sat a torniquet, some needles, cleaning wipes, cotton wool, and vials of sterile water. I watched in nervous amazement as he filled them both with some tina and water, marking one with a pen.

"IV? Can't we just smoke?" I asked.

"In theory, yeah," he whined "but trust me, this is different."

"Fine. Just don't screw up my arm."

"Yours is lighter than mine but still strong enough for a newbie, so I marked it," he said "Now, left or right arm?"

I presented my left arm, my heart racing in fear and anticipation, and he tied the torniquet around it, slapping a few areas until he found a thick vein. He cleaned it off, let it dry, told me to relax and breathe normally and inserted it. I winced a little as he smirked at the blood slowly entering the syringe. As he pressed down the plunger, he spoke to me softly.

"Now, tell me how you really feel. Don't hold back. I want you to admit it all."

I felt warm and tingly at first, then once the cotton wool was pushed down on my arm and the torniquet removed, I felt the rush rising up through my body. I coughed and spluttered as my vision and hearing started to spin and I was hit with a buzzing wave of euphoria. My ears felt full and my body felt weak.

"You are the sexiest man I have ever seen," I started saying as I lost my last inhibitions "You look so far gone and corrupted. You're ugly in all the right ways. I like to pretend I'm better than you but I should be put in my place. I want to stay true to how I am but I want to share how fucked up you are."

"How can we do that?" he asked, finding a vein on himself and plunging the tina in.

"Fuck me. Take my virginity," I begged "I think this is what I've been saving it for. I want to give it all to you. Make me feel inferior."

"That's what I wanted to hear since I first saw you bench," he smiled, discarding the needle and falling on his back "I should say, I'm a top, and me being thirty-seven and also the fucked up one out of us, I think it only makes sense I wreck you."

I moaned in agreement. Throwing away my cotton ball to kiss him and rub my hands over his solid, toned pecs, wrapping my fingers between his warm skin and cold chain. He shoved his tongue into my mouth and rubbed it against the inside of my cheeks, my teeth, the roof of my mouth, and under my tongue, violating every crevice he could reach.

"Get on all fours for me, it lets me penetrate deeper," he commanded, and I complied instantly, crawling on to the carpet. I looked ahead as I felt his body lean over me, his cold chain draping to tickle my back as he leant in to suck the side of my neck. This continued for a few seconds before I heard him say it.

"No."

"No?" I asked, breathing heavily.

"No, this isn't right," he continued, as I felt disappointment begin to set in "You're a stigmatophile, yeah? You like that I'm all chavvy. It's about looks. You should get to see this. Get on your back."

A rush of excitement came over me through the ongoing euphoric haze as I flipped over and spread my legs for him. He gently pushed them apart with his tattooed hands and positioned himself close to me, his thighs rubbing against areas nobody else had ever touched. I squirmed. He reached over to his table to grab a condom, but before he could open it I grabbed his arm.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Is it OK if I say anything I want?" I asked so as not to scare him, to which he nodded "In that case, if we're doing this we do it properly. I want you to do everything to me, and you can't do that with a condom."

"You want me to breed you?" he asked, his own breath quickening "It's not like I never do that but for your first time, you sure?"

"And more. Fuck me up inside so I can't turn back later," I begged, running my finger along the pattern of his tattoos.

"Lube?" he asked, now getting excited at my kinky side "You want my spit?"

"Not just that," I panted, looking at his left ear and then to the table "add that stuff that built up under your tunnels."

His eyes grew wide for a moment, then squinted again with an 'oh fuck yes'. He muttered the words 'dirty whore' and 'kinky fucker' as he handed me the pipe to take further hit after hit while I watched him carefully scrape up what gunk he could from his tunnels before putting them back in. He wiped it against my hole, sticky and elastic, and slowly pushed it ever so slightly in.

"Take that inside of you, this is a first even for me," he growled "my gauge build up is inside of you and it's gonna stay there. You're gonna take everything from me."

With that, he produced a huge glob of spit which hung from his lower lip before falling directly against the opening of my hole with a splatting noise. I watched him slap his pale, seven-inch, uncut dick straight against my hole a few times as he pulled a face and groaned. He looked up at me and, noticing I was still buzzing heavily from the high, shoved his dick inside me in one slow but continuous motion. It stung more than I had expected, but the pleasure of the rush made me crave the pain.

Opening my eyes once I felt completely full, I looked up at the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. Starting from the bottom, I saw my limp, hairy belly and my semi-hard dick, with my legs splayed. Between my tanned thighs, I saw his pale, hairless abs pressed up against my ballsack. My gaze scanned upwards to his tight, pink nipples and his chain against the backdrop of some probably meaningless latin on his chest, swinging ever so slightly forward with gravity and catching the light from the corner of the room. His tattooed chest and arms flexed, the muscles moving under the skin as he held my ankles wide open. His hat had come off now, revealing a shaved head save for a strip of short hair running down the middle of his head. I looked up at his face, aged by smoking and drug use, as he scrunched up his eyes and breathed slowly, letting himself adjust to the rush. His eyes snapped open and locked with mine after a quick head shake and he smirked down at me.

"You OK down there yet?" he asked.

"It fucking hurts," I said "Go for it."

"You are a horny fuck, aren't you?" he chuckled, leaning down to kiss me and bringing his arms down to caress my body as I wrapped my legs around his waist.

He started to thrust, slow and methodical at first. I winced a bit, but nodded encouragingly for him to continue. As he went faster I felt my hole cramping around his dick, until he was finally in a good moderate rhythm.

The tina heightened all of my senses and my awareness. At the entrance of my hole, I could feel the shifts in texture as the ridge of the head of his dick passed through it, almost all the way out so that just his urethra was inside of me, then plunged back in, with the shaft and ridges of foreskin following. With each thrust, the slimy and slightly grainy combination of ear smegma and spit mushed against the skin around my hole. I ran my arms along his arms and chest and around the back of his neck, feeling his calcified veins and muscles. With each jerky thrust, his chain swung and made a clinking noise at it bounced off of his pecs, and his enlarged ears hung slightly and wobbled. Every now and again he would lean down and kiss me with a grin, and I'd feel his chain tapping against my chin. All of my senses and darkest unknown fantasies were being stimulated at once by the relative stranger between my legs.

After some amount of time, the clock confirming it, I felt something cold and wet dripping on me. He was damp with sweat that was collecting all over his body and face, dripping down on to me and mixing with mine. Instinctively, one of my hands reached down to my dick and tugged at it furiously, sending a watery load shooting over both of us. I moaned uncontrollably.

"Fuck yeah, boy!" he laughed "Bet you never felt an orgasm like that before!"

"Are we done?" I asked looking up at him, as he looked down at our crotches and pulled his dick out "I still sorta wanna keep going."

"Ooo, might be, lad," he said, sucking in air through his teeth "Bit dirty back here, anyway."

"Should I douche?"

"Nah mate, it's cool. I wanted you to feel it properly anyway. Can't feel liquids going in if it's too wet. It isn't bad or nothing."

"Then what's wrong?" I pressed "Did you cum?"

"Nah, to be honest," he said with a pause "I might have gone a bit too hard on you. Noticed a bit of blood back here and it isn't mine."

Something stirred inside of me at that. I felt more vulnerable than before, and for whatever reason my dick was suddenly rock hard. I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck and pulled him gently towards me.

"Kyle, I need you to breed me more than ever, please," I begged in a hushed tone.

"Lad, you already got some spit and gunge in you," he replied "even I've never used piercing gunge like that."

"I..." I started hesitantly "I need another IV tina. I need to be honest with you. Please, do it with me and I will explain myself. And yes, I'm sure about this."

He pulled me into another kiss as we stood up and pointed me towards his bedroom. I went ahead while he fixed two large glasses of water and grabbed the tray from the lounge-kitchen.

The bedroom was lit up by a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. Kyle's bed was a mess, with a thin, ragged sheet that looked like it had never been washed cast over the mattress. I tossed it aside haphazardly and flopped on the bed, while he handed me my glass to drink and prepared the slams.

"You still have some in your system" he explained "so another 0.3 should do a newbie like you nicely."

"I'll explain why I need to be bred when I'm deeper in the zone," I said as he inserted the needle "Fuck me with your unprotected dick as soon as my slam is done and talk to me honestly once you've slammed yourself."

I fell on my back and felt his dick going in while the crescendo of the high came on. My lower body spasmed in pain as he forced himself in until his balls were pressed against my ass crack. My breathing felt odd, and I pressed my palms into my forehead while focusing to control it.

"Fuck my bleeding hole hard," I mumbled, peeping through my hands to see him finish off his slam "Make me feel worthless."

His face contort as he flexed and groaned, pressing his crossed forearms into his forehead and groaned, thrusting his hips slowly back and forth. He let out a growl as his arms came down sideways, keeping them flexed and landing them next to.

"You wanna feel worthless, yeah? You a little high-and-mighty good boy, yeah?" he whispered breathlessly, picking up the pace with his hips and keeping his body upright with a wild, almost malicious look of pleasure on his face "Well look at you now. Out there you think you're something special, but now you're being fucked by my old druggie cock. You could've just slept here but you wanted to let a jobless, drug using, mid-thirties chav take your innocence and leave you broken. Looking down at this little posh boy losing his innocence like this just makes me so much harder too. You wanted to settle down, yeah? Make loads of money with a decent guy?"

"I did. I wante-" I started, but was cut off by him grabbing my cheeks and holding my mouth and teeth open. He sprayed my face with spit, some of it landing on my tongue. I blinked and flinched at it, then watched with terrified eyes as he snorted and hocked, stretching his conventionally unattractive face to produce another glob of spit. As it dripped from his pursed lips, I noticed it was slightly yellow, dehydrated by tina and mixed with phlegm. As it landed on my helpless tongue and started to slide down my throat, my mouth was filled with the flavour of tobacco. The string of spit eventually disconnected from his lips as he grinned. He wiped my face dry clumsily with his finger then stuck it in my mouth.

"Shut the fuck up when I'm talking and swallow," he commanded as he started to thrust again, and I obliged, trying not to gag but loving every moment of my corruption as more of his fluids entered my body "Swallow my spit. Anyone you kiss from now, you're kissing them using my spit, understand? Now, where was I...

"How the fuck are you going to settle down like you're expected to? You weren't clicking with any of those respectful guys from before. I'll admit, you're doing a good job embracing your masc side, but what you were really looking for was a real fucking man to dominate you. Even if you do find some ideal posho now though, it's too late. You'll probably never do anything this fucking sleazy with a decent lad. Hell, you'll definitely never even be able to get high like this, or take some of the stuff I've shoved in you. You're physically closer to me than you'll ever be to anyone else, and even if you get to that level with another guy, I did it first and without even getting to know you. Your sense of intimacy is fucked now, even if you pretend it isn't."

"What if I love you?" I asked, my mind beginning to ramble "I think I love-"

"Ha! Mate you really are fucked," he sneered "I don't love you! Hell, this means nothing to me. Sex is just a bit of fun for me. I've fucked guys I know way less than you. Now that just a laugh to know I'm fucking up your love life."

"If you get a kick out of ruining me, go the full way," I moaned, my dick throbbing with a combination of horniness, euphoria, and growing regret "give me your semen."

"Not gonna lie, lad, it's hard to cum on T," he sighed, slowing down a bit "what was it you wanted to say about wanting my cum?"

"When you fill someone with semen, how long do you think it stays in there?" I asked as he rocked back and forth gently.

"I dunno, depends how long until you next shit," he said with a shrug.

"Not exactly," I said, experiencing every part of him picking up the pace as I continued "Ejaculating is supposed to deliver sperm for fertilisation. Those sperm have enzymes to break their way into an egg by digesting their way in. They're meant to burrow.

"The colon is also very absorptive, so it soaks up stuff well. When you cum in someone, those sperm and that absorption encourage them to embed themselves in there. They burrow in and deposit their DNA - your DNA - permanently."

"Fuck me," he said, eyes rolling back as I felt his dick throb "so everyone I breed has a bit of me in them for life?"

"It's more like all of your DNA is a part of them for life," I said, feeling my dick get closer to climax as I kept explaining it "But since you've made a few tears up in me, those swimmers are gonna get into my blood and burrow into all sorts of bits. Do a good enough DNA test on me even after I die and they might find your genes in me. So, breed me up. Make me carry you inside of me forever. Get in me and fuck up my whole body."

"Fuck yes, take me forever you worthless slut," he groaned, starting to jerk as my words brought him close to cumming "You're gonna be fucking ruined after this, knowing my chavvy genes are a part of you. Yes... Yeah! TAKE IT!"

With that, he thrust into me ten times, hard, with a pause between each one. Each thrust, he shouted 'Take it!' loud enough that the neighbours could hear. My sensitive hole felt the pressure of each jet of his cum squeezing its way up, and I started moaning and shooting a powerful load over his chin and chest.

My mind was spinning, processing everything that happened, processing the disgusting stuff I had done and said, and the stuff the older waster sleazebag who had done it to me. He broke my daze with a light kiss, laughing quietly.

"That was fucking fun," he whooped, propping himself up over me "So I guess you're mine forever now, lol!"

"What do we do now?" I asked, post nut clarity and vulnerability joining the array of emotions. I knew there were still lots of one-sided feelings in place.

"Well, I dunno about you but I gotta piss," he said, slowly sliding out "BRB."

"Wait!" I shouted a bit too loud, pulling his hips back in with my legs "Do it inside of me."

And that brings me to now. It's been a while since Kyle finally pulled out. After he peed, he stayed in me for at least another half an hour, though it may have been longer, fucking my beyond ruined body with small thrusts to not let any of his juices out. Eventually he got tired and rolled over next to me. My thighs ached as they came out of their previous drawn-up position, after hours of activity. We cuddled and talked about the fuck until he drifted off to sleep. Honestly I don't know how he can sleep on tina; I've been awake since and it already looks like it's daytime through the curtain outside. Before he passed out though, he whispered something to me.

"I don't care if it means something to you; it doesn't to me. I don't love you and it turns me on that I ruined that for you," he said sleepily "but that doesn't mean I definitely won't catch feelings. You're still my first posh-boy."

I don't know what to do. I'm still snuggled up in his arms and have been playing with his tunnels and chain and running my hand over his muscles, tatts, and stubble while I reflected on the situation. I've come down enough to realise how fucked I've been, but I still can't bring myself to get out of bed to squeeze out what piss and sperm I haven't soaked into my blood, not that it would make much difference. Now I'm left with a choice:

1) Take off, pretend this never happened, and try to live the rest of my life enjoying successful but ultimately hollow relationships, or

2) Be with this fuck-up of a man and anyone else he might want to fuck me with and live out my days like this, being looked down on with him in public and spending my money on drugs and cigarettes.

Either way, I've probably ruined everything. What should I do?

evilqueerpig · September 17, 2021

You need this chav and maybe he'll see that he needs his posh shag.

SpectreAgent · September 17, 2021

Captures perfectly why good boys fall for chavs…

pozpopperpig · September 17, 2021

HOT! Keep with Kyle and see what happens?!

September 17, 2021

7 hours ago, RawPlug said:

Captures perfectly why good boys fall for chavs…

We deserve to be bred up by rough chav lads. There definitely need to be more of them around!

1 hour ago, pozpopperpig said:

HOT! Keep with Kyle and see what happens?!

We'll see... 😈

Lure · September 17, 2021

What a sick & perverted mind with dark hiding places these words have fallen from to construct this story. More please.

I love it when a good boy goes bad.

SpectreAgent · September 17, 2021

4 hours ago, Gymgear said:

We deserve to be bred up by rough chav lads. There definitely need to be more of them around!

We'll see... 😈

Throw a stick in Salford and you’ll hit 50 chavs!

billy88666 · September 17, 2021

I'm kind of hoping that Kyle's has lied about his status and the papers he showed were faked. Wonder how our posh lad would react if he finds that out in the morning.

lobster · September 23, 2021

Love this story! It is exactly what I always crave for but afraid to venture into this fetish.

lobster · September 23, 2021

On 9/17/2021 at 7:12 AM, Gymgear said:

What have I gotten myself into? I'm still pretty spun at the moment so forgive me if this is a bit rambling. I just can't stop thinking of all the details.

To preface, I'll admit I'm a snob. I'm the son of a middle-eastern doctor couple with a posh RP British accent, smug air of superiority, and private school education: I'm the full package. I'm not gonna try to sell myself as a good person through all this, I'm actually quite classist, but I think it provides some context to how this unfolded.

It all probably goes back to the first time I was re-integrated into "normal society" when I left private school around 12 years old after a house move. I was used to being in a strictly traditional environment - correct elocution at all times, no slang, back straight, uniform neat, etc. Everyone's parents were businesspeople, lawyers, doctors, and the like: well-to-do, presentable pillars of society. The culture shock of seeing less-well-off people in a more deprived area was a bit much for me to handle. With my neat hair, tie and top button done up properly, and of course the unshakeable accent, I stuck out like a sore thumb.

One thing I simply couldn't wrap my head around was the body modifications and bling. Women wore modest jewelry and men wore basically none - that was what I knew. Yet surrounding me were lads walking around with cropped hair, diamond studs, and thick chains, dressed like the "unemployed wasters" and "chavs" my parents always warned me to avoid in the streets. As I got older, these turned from more hideable choices to obvious and irreversible things, earlobes hanging loose after being stretched and tattoos peeking out from under shirt cuffs, that would make any of my old social circle recoil in horror.

Anyway, that's enough pseudo-Freudian armchair psychology for now. I've since matured a lot. The accent stuck around for the most part, as did some of the deep-seated opinions about the above described people, though I became much more integrated and humble with age. As expected, I aced all my exams as a high-flyer and got into a good university for a fairly tough biological sciences course. The stress of the workload there eventually got to me, and a few breakdowns later, I joined the university gym for my mental and physical wellbeing. I started to feel better about myself, trim down a bit, and get muscular. Of course, the pandemic came and shut things down for a while, and university being university decided to ramp up membership costs at the gym after reopening. To save money, I signed myself up to the much cheaper local council gym - all the necessary freeweights, and just a 20 minute drive away, although less pristine and proper than some more up-market establishments.

The clientele there were hugely different to my previous gym. There were far fewer posh boys using rowing machines and benching an empty bar to say the least. I felt like the youngest there by at least a decade, although still more or less on-par in terms of body size (except for the roiders). The place was full of skinheads, some people who looked high on crack, and a few faces I recognised from the local news as violent criminals. The first time I stepped in, I got an uneasy, twisting feeling in the pit of my stomach from just being around them. Needless to say, I never became particularly social there.

Among them, though, there was one who stood out. He seemed fairly sociable and chatty with the others, but never interacted with me beyond a quick glance; maybe ten to fifteen years older than me, in his mid-thirties. He was pale as though he hardly saw the sun, much in contrast with my darker skin, with a thin, almost gaunt face and a somewhat squinting gaze. From his cheeks to his neck he was covered in a moderate layer of stubble and his hair was hidden a baseball cap. His body was much more toned than mine as well: still relatively jacked, but with obvious, discernable muscles and veins as opposed to my more cub-like build. What stood out most was just how closely he fit that common waster archetype of man moreso than anyone else at the gym. Both of his arms from where his shirt sleeve ended down to his gloves were covered in tattoos (the left one of a twisting dragon or snake, and the right of a floral pattern, with other miscellaneous shapes in the gaps). The holes in his earlobes were held open with cheap, black, acrylic tunnels to about the diameter of two of my fingers. When he wasn't lifting, with admittedly excellent form, or talking to others, he spent his time flexing in the mirror and deciding whether his steel curb chain would look better inside or outside his t-shirt that day. Maybe it's because we were complete opposites in everything other than height, with him maybe only an inch or two taller than me, that I couldn't help but look on in fascination.

It was an eventuality that he'd notice me staring sooner or later.

Disclaimer here: I am exclusively into men (in case that wasn't obvious from the website I'm posting on). I used to call it "gay" but the politics at university put me off the whole labelling culture. I won't go on about some extensive history of being abused or groomed, or my many underage and young-adult sexual exploits because I have none: the attraction just emerged as I was going through puberty and I never acted on it until university given my overbearing yet intolerant parents. Even then, it was only a few dates I ever went on. They were tall, conventionally handsome, smart, and sensitive, but something about the guys I was meeting there just meant I was never invested enough to want to see them beyond dinner.

It was on my third day at that gym, shoulders in my routine, that he first spoke to me.

"Your form's a bit off, need some help?" a scratchy, slightly nasal, almost cockney voice called over my shoulder. I lowered my gaze slightly as I re-racked the weight and my eyes instantly fell on his. Instinctively, they flickered to some of his most noteable features and then away.

"No, I'm fine," I snapped, my tone obviously flustered and clearly harsher than it needed to be.

"Alright, mate, I'm just trying to help!" he replied, raising an eyebrow at me with a smirk and holding his hands up.

I huffed and re-mounted the barbell for my next set, my eyes casting a quick glance back to him before I did. I noticed his right sleeve extended a few branching patterns above his collar and half-way up his neck. Admittedly, I could feel my form was off. I had increased my load maybe a bit too much and there was a twinge in my back, along with the distracting degenerate standing behind me.

"Y'see? Your hips are just tilting a little bit to the right," he continued to critique as I tried to keep my eyes on myself "If I just..."

With those three words I felt a weight on my hips gently guiding them to the left and forward. I glanced down and saw him close against my back with his toned, inked arms readjusting my stance. He was close enough to smell his bitter, chemically, musky cheap aftershave with an underlying whiff of tobacco on his breath. I felt an electric jolt shoot down my back, into my groin, and down my legs as I lost my balance and threw the bar clumsily back on to the rack.

"What do you think you're doing touching me? Don't touch me! You threw off my form and I almost injured myself!" I shouted, my face turning bright red as I continued to react to him and draw attention to myself.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" he asked laughing "Felt something with my hands on your hips, eh?"

With that I stormed off out of the gym. Workout be damned - I was too embarrassed to continue. I hopped back in my car and drove back to my student flat, telling myself it was that mutilated, showy chav that was the problem, not me. Without giving myself time to think, I went straight to bed.

Now, some details about this gym - it's right on the outskirts of town, between a depressingly grey council estate of sprawling house-flats and an opposingly beautiful forest.

I got through my day of studying, seminars, and lab work, then headed out to the gym for leg day and to finish my shoulder routine. I got a couple of awkward glances from people who recognised me from the previous day's outburst, but for the most part people had either forgotten or didn't care. I maintained my load mainly, just increasing reps, and finished up shortly before closing time. It was still fairly light out as I left, so I noticed from a distance when I saw him propped up against the driver's side door of my car.

"Pretty nice vehicle you got here," he taunted "How much did it set your parents back?"

I bit my lip to hold back my urge to say something along the lines of 'more than you'd ever see' and asked him to move out of the way.

"Nah mate, you gotta get something off your chest," he responded, "and once you do that, then I'll let you go home."

"I'll just call the police," I responded.

"Fine," he said, stepping back from the car and turning to walk towards the forest "just keep your problems bottled up then."

As he left, I reached for my car handle, then stopped. I looked directly over to him, taking in his general figure rather than his strikingly chavvy features for the first time. A thought came to mind, but before I could acknowledge it I snuffed it out and locked my car door, chasing him down the public footpath.

"What do I need to get off my chest?" I asked him, still a bit flustered.

"You're asking as if I know," he replied. I moved to get mad at him for wasting my time when I noticed that same smirk again as my dark, brown eyes locked with his milky blue ones. He knew something about me that I didn't, or at least that I wasn't admitting. The look made me feel uncomfortable.

"Is it really that obvious if I have some problem?" I continued, my tone quieter, almost defeated.

"I noticed you constantly looking over at me since you first joined," he mentioned "or at least at parts of me..."

"I just..." I started, then trailled off, not being able to find the words to articulate myself.

"Let me guess, you're a rich kid, sheltered by your parents and groomed into being perfect. You constantly look for approval from older snobs and such so you can fit into the upper crust and live a decent, presentable life. Despite that, you've seen lads like me who look so different to what you've been told that your curiosity can't help but make you look. I'm so far off what you've been told a person should be like that you want to know more," he reeled off, almost rehearsedly "Is that right?"

I was lost for words. He'd articulated my thoughts perfectly, better than even I could to myself. I started to wonder if maybe he wasn't quite as idiotic as I'd first assumed. I didn't know what else to say but nod.

"I'll be honest, mate, you're the first posh boy I've seen who seems more interested than just put off," he continued "I'm actually interested what keeps you looking at me."

"Well, it's just that..." I started, pausing to gain confidence "Why would you spend time and money just to look like that? I could understand if it was just your natural features, but you've put effort in trying to screw up how you look!"

"You nervous about asking? It's a talking point, and I like how it looks," he responded with a chuckle "That's just who I am, like how you don't have any tatts and you lift and you talk all posh because that's who you are. I'm proud of this look; fuck everyone else."

"And it doesn't get in the way of getting a job?" I interrogated.

"Loads of people get rich with body mods - take basically any celebrity!"

"And you?"

"I couldn't wrap my head around GCSE maths even. I just do... this and that, on the side of the dole," he said with a wink, taking amusement in my expression "basically already accepted I'm not gonna get any higher than odd manual labour jobs."

"Do you feel it?" I blurted out "As in, not when you had all that stuff done, but now. Do you feel it in?"

"Heh, you really are curious, aren't you? The tatts, not really, but I see them in the mirror every day; they're a part of me forever. The gauges, yeah. They're just a bit heavy - lets me know they're in for everyone to see when I'm out and about. Never got any other piercings because I figured these were enough to look how I want - rough and masc," he explained "I can't explain how they feel to someone without them really, but I don't think you should get any for yourself if you want my two cents. Hope that's what you wanted to hear."

I stared for a moment, then averted my gaze. His answer was basically everything I hoped to know, all of my questions answered, but I couldn't admit it for whatever reason. He patted me on the back with a chuckle at my response, sending another electric jolt down from my back to my perineum.

"I wonder if you know you're gay yet," he pondered out loud.

"What? Oh don't try that psychoanalitical mind game bull with me," I sighed "Of course I know I'm into dudes. You got a problem with that?"

"Don't worry, I ain't a big fan of women and tits either. And you're using 'into dudes' rather than 'gay' for the same reason you like to lift," he said, hitting a nerve once again as he read me like a book "Not because you're in denial, but because you never really clicked with the whole gay crowd you met before, right?"

"What's your point?" I asked, dodging his question rather than conceding.

"You're a bright lad. Hell, you got into uni. You still haven't put it together? You're curious about men with body mods and my look but don't want to get any yourself, and you're into lads."

"No..." I responded uncertainly as we arrived back at the gym car park. I noticed the expression on his face drop from amused to slightly concerned as he looked ahead. I turned to see what had caused the shift in his mood to see the gates to the car park firmly locked and the gym's lights out, with my car still stuck inside the car park.

"Shit, mate. Sorry!" he apologised, running a hand across the back of his head "I let it get a bit late."

"Damn, I'll have to walk back home," I sighed "A bit of cardio, at least."

"Nah, mate. Would not recommend that around these parts if you wanna keep your head on your shoulders... bit of an EDL crowd around this ends if you know what I mean," he explained with genuine concern in his eyes.

"I see. What would you suggest I do?" I asked hesitantly.

"You gotta work tomorrow? If not, you could crash at my place?" he offered "Hell, could be nice to have someone to chat to before bed."

I thought about it and reluctantly agreed. I had nothing scheduled for the next day and could catch up on lab work and study over the weekend. He hadn't attacked me in the forest with ample opportunity to do so, even when he found out about my orientation. I went along on the condition I got his name: Kyle. He asked for mine as well, and chuckled at how I definitely wouldn't last five minutes walking through this part of town by myself.

We arrived back at his flat: the upper floor of a drab, mass-produced, sixties-era brick of a two-storey around two minutes from the gym by foot. As I stepped in, I was met with the smell of tobacco and his bitter cologne rich in the air. I coughed a bit and he offered me some water before we both sat down at opposite ends of a worn sofa. I glanced over to him to find him staring back at me with a soft smile.

"What's the matter?" I asked, shifting nervously in my seat.

"I should be asking you! You're so tense!" he chuckled "Wanna hit some tina? Loosen up a bit"

"What?"

"Tina: meth," he elaborated, pulling out a burnt glass pipe and a small baggie "my treat!"

"Meth?! Are you insane?"

"Ever smoked weed before?" he asked.

"A couple of times... but meth?" I followed.

"They're both class B," he carried on, heating the pipe and taking a hit "Same crime! You wanna loosen up a bit so we can chat or am I doing this alone?"

I agreed cautiously, falling both for his logic and some deep-seated tugging curiosity I couldn't identify. The smell and taste was instantly familiar - he wasn't wearing any 'chemical aftershave' before. I started to feel slightly more relaxed in myself, and a bit more energised, almost like I'd had a good espresso. He asked if I was OK and I nodded with a cough.

"Great... so... 'into lads'..." he said, stretching back "been getting much action recently?"

"Nah, I'm a virgin," I responded bluntly "Not shy about it. My choice."

"For real? But mate you're fit!" he exclaimed a bit too loudly for comfort "You could have anyone, at least if you kept your trap shut! How old are you? Twenty-one?"

"Twenty-two," I responded "And I've had my fair share of dates. I just never clicked with any of them, and I want to save it for someone special."

"Man I was fucking as soon as I hit fifteen," he laughed "Just a bit of fun with other lads at school. None of them were all wanky rahs like you, though."

"Wanky rahs?"

"I mean that in a good way. You're cute, sorta. Not a huge fan of fem guys myself," he smiled "Now you're relaxed, you feel like admitting you know the connection between that and the ink and stuff?"

"Well, I guess you're a bit different to guys I've tried to date before, even to any I've associated witu before," I started unsurely as he nodded "and I dunno... I guess I had some sexual feelings about it? Like I'm curious about what other guys were lacking."

"Getting there," he said, offering me another hit of tina "How you feeling about it now?"

"I guess I feel like I want to get to know you a bit..." I started, prompting him to raise an eyebrow "and... I guess I already know some about you and haven't lost interest so I'm sorta further along than with those other guys..."

"You ever kissed anyone before?" he asked, leaning close.

"No..." I replied softly, my stomach doing backflips as I lifted my head towards his face.

Kyle kissed me softly, closed mouth at first, then pulled away to look into my eyes briefly before going in deeper. I ran my hand behind his head and neck, brushing my fingers against his chain as his stubble scratched my face and his soft, damp tongue massaged mine. He pulled away enough for me to see him more fully and I panicked, withdrawing slightly.

"Take another hit of tina," he instructed, and I complied as he fiddled with his right gauge "I sussed you out when I first caught you nervously glancing at me. Your eyes went straight to my ears. One problem with these is maintenance. I haven't cleaned them since last weekend and you get a sort of smegma build-up under them."

Kyle removed the jewelry and I watched his ear flop down as he placed the tunnel, now coated with some white paste made of dead skin and such, on the table. It jiggled as he moved, making my dick twitch slightly. He reached for a tissue and wiped away the residual build-up on his ear, then leaned back over.

"You can't believe that people have these, can you?" he asked, looking into my eyes with dilated pupils as I shook my head "Let me see if my hunch was right then. I want you to feel it and stick your finger through my ear hole."

Without hesitation, I reached up and ran my hand up Kyle's neck and to his ear. It felt like my opportunity to fully confirm my fascination. I careessed the loose skin between my fingers at first, then pushed my index finger through. My dick jumped straight into an erection, even through the tina, as the warm skin hugged around my finger. He smiled, leaning in slowly for another kiss.

"Just what I thought," he chuckled "you're a stigmatophile, maybe a chav fetishist too."

"Those are some long words for a guy like you," I said as he whipped off his shirt, revealing the sleeves to coalesce in the middle of his chest where his shiny, thick, silver-coloured chain hung.

"I know my sex jargon," he smirked, sticking a thumb under his curb chain and rattling it to assess my response "it means you're turned on by tattoos and piercings; in your case lads with those. Seems like your dick likes a chain too! And before you ask, yeah the chain never comes off unless it's life-or-death."

"I like the contrast too," I declared, beginning to undress myself with a wave of relief "I like being all pure-looking like this with someone who isn't."

"Same here," he growled "Though the sorta sluts I've been with hardly looked pure. What should we do with the rest of the night?"

"I'm... not sure," I pondered hesitantly as some doubts began to set in "Kissing felt nice, but I don't know if I should have done it. God, I gave you my first kiss! I said I wanted to save myself. What about STDs and things too?"

"I'm HIV negative, and everything else negative, and taking PrEP too," he said hurriedly, scrambling through some papers to produce a document confirming his status from two weeks ago "but that aside, I think you're still holding back. You watched The Matrix?"

"Everyone has," I replied, now completely naked.

"Great, so you know when Morpheus offers Neo the blue pill or the red pill. You get what I mean when I say that too?" he asked, his train of thought almost jumping "You can choose to just stay as you are or fully understand what all your feelings are about. First though, I have to know... do you trust me?"

I nodded, my inhibitions more far gone than I had known before, and watched as Kyle produced a tray from under his sofa, on which sat a torniquet, some needles, cleaning wipes, cotton wool, and vials of sterile water. I watched in nervous amazement as he filled them both with some tina and water, marking one with a pen.

"IV? Can't we just smoke?" I asked.

"In theory, yeah," he whined "but trust me, this is different."

"Fine. Just don't screw up my arm."

"Yours is lighter than mine but still strong enough for a newbie, so I marked it," he said "Now, left or right arm?"

I presented my left arm, my heart racing in fear and anticipation, and he tied the torniquet around it, slapping a few areas until he found a thick vein. He cleaned it off, let it dry, told me to relax and breathe normally and inserted it. I winced a little as he smirked at the blood slowly entering the syringe. As he pressed down the plunger, he spoke to me softly.

"Now, tell me how you really feel. Don't hold back. I want you to admit it all."

I felt warm and tingly at first, then once the cotton wool was pushed down on my arm and the torniquet removed, I felt the rush rising up through my body. I coughed and spluttered as my vision and hearing started to spin and I was hit with a buzzing wave of euphoria. My ears felt full and my body felt weak.

"You are the sexiest man I have ever seen," I started saying as I lost my last inhibitions "You look so far gone and corrupted. You're ugly in all the right ways. I like to pretend I'm better than you but I should be put in my place. I want to stay true to how I am but I want to share how fucked up you are."

"How can we do that?" he asked, finding a vein on himself and plunging the tina in.

"Fuck me. Take my virginity," I begged "I think this is what I've been saving it for. I want to give it all to you. Make me feel inferior."

"That's what I wanted to hear since I first saw you bench," he smiled, discarding the needle and falling on his back "I should say, I'm a top, and me being thirty-seven and also the fucked up one out of us, I think it only makes sense I wreck you."

I moaned in agreement. Throwing away my cotton ball to kiss him and rub my hands over his solid, toned pecs, wrapping my fingers between his warm skin and cold chain. He shoved his tongue into my mouth and rubbed it against the inside of my cheeks, my teeth, the roof of my mouth, and under my tongue, violating every crevice he could reach.

"Get on all fours for me, it lets me penetrate deeper," he commanded, and I complied instantly, crawling on to the carpet. I looked ahead as I felt his body lean over me, his cold chain draping to tickle my back as he leant in to suck the side of my neck. This continued for a few seconds before I heard him say it.

"No."

"No?" I asked, breathing heavily.

"No, this isn't right," he continued, as I felt disappointment begin to set in "You're a stigmatophile, yeah? You like that I'm all chavvy. It's about looks. You should get to see this. Get on your back."

A rush of excitement came over me through the ongoing euphoric haze as I flipped over and spread my legs for him. He gently pushed them apart with his tattooed hands and positioned himself close to me, his thighs rubbing against areas nobody else had ever touched. I squirmed. He reached over to his table to grab a condom, but before he could open it I grabbed his arm.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Is it OK if I say anything I want?" I asked so as not to scare him, to which he nodded "In that case, if we're doing this we do it properly. I want you to do everything to me, and you can't do that with a condom."

"You want me to breed you?" he asked, his own breath quickening "It's not like I never do that but for your first time, you sure?"

"And more. Fuck me up inside so I can't turn back later," I begged, running my finger along the pattern of his tattoos.

"Lube?" he asked, now getting excited at my kinky side "You want my spit?"

"Not just that," I panted, looking at his left ear and then to the table "add that stuff that built up under your tunnels."

His eyes grew wide for a moment, then squinted again with an 'oh fuck yes'. He muttered the words 'dirty whore' and 'kinky fucker' as he handed me the pipe to take further hit after hit while I watched him carefully scrape up what gunk he could from his tunnels before putting them back in. He wiped it against my hole, sticky and elastic, and slowly pushed it ever so slightly in.

"Take that inside of you, this is a first even for me," he growled "my gauge build up is inside of you and it's gonna stay there. You're gonna take everything from me."

With that, he produced a huge glob of spit which hung from his lower lip before falling directly against the opening of my hole with a splatting noise. I watched him slap his pale, seven-inch, uncut dick straight against my hole a few times as he pulled a face and groaned. He looked up at me and, noticing I was still buzzing heavily from the high, shoved his dick inside me in one slow but continuous motion. It stung more than I had expected, but the pleasure of the rush made me crave the pain.

Opening my eyes once I felt completely full, I looked up at the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. Starting from the bottom, I saw my limp, hairy belly and my semi-hard dick, with my legs splayed. Between my tanned thighs, I saw his pale, hairless abs pressed up against my ballsack. My gaze scanned upwards to his tight, pink nipples and his chain against the backdrop of some probably meaningless latin on his chest, swinging ever so slightly forward with gravity and catching the light from the corner of the room. His tattooed chest and arms flexed, the muscles moving under the skin as he held my ankles wide open. His hat had come off now, revealing a shaved head save for a strip of short hair running down the middle of his head. I looked up at his face, aged by smoking and drug use, as he scrunched up his eyes and breathed slowly, letting himself adjust to the rush. His eyes snapped open and locked with mine after a quick head shake and he smirked down at me.

"You OK down there yet?" he asked.

"It fucking hurts," I said "Go for it."

"You are a horny fuck, aren't you?" he chuckled, leaning down to kiss me and bringing his arms down to caress my body as I wrapped my legs around his waist.

He started to thrust, slow and methodical at first. I winced a bit, but nodded encouragingly for him to continue. As he went faster I felt my hole cramping around his dick, until he was finally in a good moderate rhythm.

The tina heightened all of my senses and my awareness. At the entrance of my hole, I could feel the shifts in texture as the ridge of the head of his dick passed through it, almost all the way out so that just his urethra was inside of me, then plunged back in, with the shaft and ridges of foreskin following. With each thrust, the slimy and slightly grainy combination of ear smegma and spit mushed against the skin around my hole. I ran my arms along his arms and chest and around the back of his neck, feeling his calcified veins and muscles. With each jerky thrust, his chain swung and made a clinking noise at it bounced off of his pecs, and his enlarged ears hung slightly and wobbled. Every now and again he would lean down and kiss me with a grin, and I'd feel his chain tapping against my chin. All of my senses and darkest unknown fantasies were being stimulated at once by the relative stranger between my legs.

After some amount of time, the clock confirming it, I felt something cold and wet dripping on me. He was damp with sweat that was collecting all over his body and face, dripping down on to me and mixing with mine. Instinctively, one of my hands reached down to my dick and tugged at it furiously, sending a watery load shooting over both of us. I moaned uncontrollably.

"Fuck yeah, boy!" he laughed "Bet you never felt an orgasm like that before!"

"Are we done?" I asked looking up at him, as he looked down at our crotches and pulled his dick out "I still sorta wanna keep going."

"Ooo, might be, lad," he said, sucking in air through his teeth "Bit dirty back here, anyway."

"Should I douche?"

"Nah mate, it's cool. I wanted you to feel it properly anyway. Can't feel liquids going in if it's too wet. It isn't bad or nothing."

"Then what's wrong?" I pressed "Did you cum?"

"Nah, to be honest," he said with a pause "I might have gone a bit too hard on you. Noticed a bit of blood back here and it isn't mine."

Something stirred inside of me at that. I felt more vulnerable than before, and for whatever reason my dick was suddenly rock hard. I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck and pulled him gently towards me.

"Kyle, I need you to breed me more than ever, please," I begged in a hushed tone.

"Lad, you already got some spit and gunge in you," he replied "even I've never used piercing gunge like that."

"I..." I started hesitantly "I need another IV tina. I need to be honest with you. Please, do it with me and I will explain myself. And yes, I'm sure about this."

He pulled me into another kiss as we stood up and pointed me towards his bedroom. I went ahead while he fixed two large glasses of water and grabbed the tray from the lounge-kitchen.

The bedroom was lit up by a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. Kyle's bed was a mess, with a thin, ragged sheet that looked like it had never been washed cast over the mattress. I tossed it aside haphazardly and flopped on the bed, while he handed me my glass to drink and prepared the slams.

"You still have some in your system" he explained "so another 0.3 should do a newbie like you nicely."

"I'll explain why I need to be bred when I'm deeper in the zone," I said as he inserted the needle "Fuck me with your unprotected dick as soon as my slam is done and talk to me honestly once you've slammed yourself."

I fell on my back and felt his dick going in while the crescendo of the high came on. My lower body spasmed in pain as he forced himself in until his balls were pressed against my ass crack. My breathing felt odd, and I pressed my palms into my forehead while focusing to control it.

"Fuck my bleeding hole hard," I mumbled, peeping through my hands to see him finish off his slam "Make me feel worthless."

His face contort as he flexed and groaned, pressing his crossed forearms into his forehead and groaned, thrusting his hips slowly back and forth. He let out a growl as his arms came down sideways, keeping them flexed and landing them next to.

"You wanna feel worthless, yeah? You a little high-and-mighty good boy, yeah?" he whispered breathlessly, picking up the pace with his hips and keeping his body upright with a wild, almost malicious look of pleasure on his face "Well look at you now. Out there you think you're something special, but now you're being fucked by my old druggie cock. You could've just slept here but you wanted to let a jobless, drug using, mid-thirties chav take your innocence and leave you broken. Looking down at this little posh boy losing his innocence like this just makes me so much harder too. You wanted to settle down, yeah? Make loads of money with a decent guy?"

"I did. I wante-" I started, but was cut off by him grabbing my cheeks and holding my mouth and teeth open. He sprayed my face with spit, some of it landing on my tongue. I blinked and flinched at it, then watched with terrified eyes as he snorted and hocked, stretching his conventionally unattractive face to produce another glob of spit. As it dripped from his pursed lips, I noticed it was slightly yellow, dehydrated by tina and mixed with phlegm. As it landed on my helpless tongue and started to slide down my throat, my mouth was filled with the flavour of tobacco. The string of spit eventually disconnected from his lips as he grinned. He wiped my face dry clumsily with his finger then stuck it in my mouth.

"Shut the fuck up when I'm talking and swallow," he commanded as he started to thrust again, and I obliged, trying not to gag but loving every moment of my corruption as more of his fluids entered my body "Swallow my spit. Anyone you kiss from now, you're kissing them using my spit, understand? Now, where was I...

"How the fuck are you going to settle down like you're expected to? You weren't clicking with any of those respectful guys from before. I'll admit, you're doing a good job embracing your masc side, but what you were really looking for was a real fucking man to dominate you. Even if you do find some ideal posho now though, it's too late. You'll probably never do anything this fucking sleazy with a decent lad. Hell, you'll definitely never even be able to get high like this, or take some of the stuff I've shoved in you. You're physically closer to me than you'll ever be to anyone else, and even if you get to that level with another guy, I did it first and without even getting to know you. Your sense of intimacy is fucked now, even if you pretend it isn't."

"What if I love you?" I asked, my mind beginning to ramble "I think I love-"

"Ha! Mate you really are fucked," he sneered "I don't love you! Hell, this means nothing to me. Sex is just a bit of fun for me. I've fucked guys I know way less than you. Now that just a laugh to know I'm fucking up your love life."

"If you get a kick out of ruining me, go the full way," I moaned, my dick throbbing with a combination of horniness, euphoria, and growing regret "give me your semen."

"Not gonna lie, lad, it's hard to cum on T," he sighed, slowing down a bit "what was it you wanted to say about wanting my cum?"

"When you fill someone with semen, how long do you think it stays in there?" I asked as he rocked back and forth gently.

"I dunno, depends how long until you next shit," he said with a shrug.

"Not exactly," I said, experiencing every part of him picking up the pace as I continued "Ejaculating is supposed to deliver sperm for fertilisation. Those sperm have enzymes to break their way into an egg by digesting their way in. They're meant to burrow.

"The colon is also very absorptive, so it soaks up stuff well. When you cum in someone, those sperm and that absorption encourage them to embed themselves in there. They burrow in and deposit their DNA - your DNA - permanently."

"Fuck me," he said, eyes rolling back as I felt his dick throb "so everyone I breed has a bit of me in them for life?"

"It's more like all of your DNA is a part of them for life," I said, feeling my dick get closer to climax as I kept explaining it "But since you've made a few tears up in me, those swimmers are gonna get into my blood and burrow into all sorts of bits. Do a good enough DNA test on me even after I die and they might find your genes in me. So, breed me up. Make me carry you inside of me forever. Get in me and fuck up my whole body."

"Fuck yes, take me forever you worthless slut," he groaned, starting to jerk as my words brought him close to cumming "You're gonna be fucking ruined after this, knowing my chavvy genes are a part of you. Yes... Yeah! TAKE IT!"

With that, he thrust into me ten times, hard, with a pause between each one. Each thrust, he shouted 'Take it!' loud enough that the neighbours could hear. My sensitive hole felt the pressure of each jet of his cum squeezing its way up, and I started moaning and shooting a powerful load over his chin and chest.

My mind was spinning, processing everything that happened, processing the disgusting stuff I had done and said, and the stuff the older waster sleazebag who had done it to me. He broke my daze with a light kiss, laughing quietly.

"That was fucking fun," he whooped, propping himself up over me "So I guess you're mine forever now, lol!"

"What do we do now?" I asked, post nut clarity and vulnerability joining the array of emotions. I knew there were still lots of one-sided feelings in place.

"Well, I dunno about you but I gotta piss," he said, slowly sliding out "BRB."

"Wait!" I shouted a bit too loud, pulling his hips back in with my legs "Do it inside of me."

And that brings me to now. It's been a while since Kyle finally pulled out. After he peed, he stayed in me for at least another half an hour, though it may have been longer, fucking my beyond ruined body with small thrusts to not let any of his juices out. Eventually he got tired and rolled over next to me. My thighs ached as they came out of their previous drawn-up position, after hours of activity. We cuddled and talked about the fuck until he drifted off to sleep. Honestly I don't know how he can sleep on tina; I've been awake since and it already looks like it's daytime through the curtain outside. Before he passed out though, he whispered something to me.

"I don't care if it means something to you; it doesn't to me. I don't love you and it turns me on that I ruined that for you," he said sleepily "but that doesn't mean I definitely won't catch feelings. You're still my first posh-boy."

I don't know what to do. I'm still snuggled up in his arms and have been playing with his tunnels and chain and running my hand over his muscles, tatts, and stubble while I reflected on the situation. I've come down enough to realise how fucked I've been, but I still can't bring myself to get out of bed to squeeze out what piss and sperm I haven't soaked into my blood, not that it would make much difference. Now I'm left with a choice:

1) Take off, pretend this never happened, and try to live the rest of my life enjoying successful but ultimately hollow relationships, or

2) Be with this fuck-up of a man and anyone else he might want to fuck me with and live out my days like this, being looked down on with him in public and spending my money on drugs and cigarettes.

Either way, I've probably ruined everything. What should I do?

How about a Third option: He continues being posh, but develops his dark path on the side. It will not be interesting anymore if the protagonist becomes a Chav and Kyle loses interest in him.

gearpigSD · September 23, 2021

Great story so far, thank you! If the poh guy is still looking for advice re choices 1 and 2, I think he'd regret choice 1. Going with what he really wants will be challenging, but better for him (and a much sexier and more twisted story for us, imho).

But whatever he decides, your stories and other posts are a gift to BZ members. So, thanks!

plisken · September 24, 2021

Stay with Kyle of course

boy4you · September 24, 2021

Thank you great story. I went to NYU and saw many of these Posh boys find out about what life was about.

SFSloppyAznBottom · September 24, 2021

I’m curious what is OP’s background like?

Such a relatable story and characters with depth.

oinker · September 29, 2021

Loved how Kyle easily was able to know exactly whst this posh guy truly needed. Very erotic way to bring him to know the wonderfully gay chem sex . Nothing like it !! Waiting to see how much more it will progress Oink

Sign In

Stigmatophilia

Recommended Posts

Guest

evilqueerpig

SpectreAgent

pozpopperpig

Guest

Lure

SpectreAgent

billy88666

lobster

lobster

gearpigSD

plisken

boy4you

SFSloppyAznBottom

oinker

Create an account or sign in to comment

Create an account

Sign in

Similar Content

pozzing 40 Year Old Virgin 1 2

Male Order Bride

I’ve Only Smoked Once… 3 Times 1 2

Brüt parties

Thoughts on Feet?

Other #BBBH Sites…

Top Bareback Porn Sites…

Other

Activity

BB Porn

Important Information