The life of Matthew Taylor—first, second, third, fourth, and final chapter.

[Philip]

The First Chapter

March 1996. Matthew is 18 years old.

To the lost of childhood innocence.

Matthew Taylor and his dad is traveling on the Western Freeway when the overwhelming urge to take a leak takes hold.

“I gotta take a leak,” says Matthew.

“I thought I told you to go when we left,” says his father.

“That was thirty minutes ago. And I did go.”

“Alright, but make it a quick one, we still have a long way to go.”

His father stops at the next truck stop. It is night-time and the clouds had eaten up the moon. The air is chilly for this time of the year and there is a COLES truck parked right outside, the driver nowhere to be seen.

“I’ll be in the car if you need me,” says his father.

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” replies Matthew. He walks into the store, ask for the whereabouts of the toilet, and the staff points to somewhere outside. He walks out, finds it. It is a public toilet, one long urinal along the wall, and two cubicles, one of which is occupied. He walks to the urinal, pulls out his cock, and as he is pissing, he hears the noise of someone opening the cubicle door. He turns his shoulder around, spots a man standing in the small opening between the door and the cubical, hands on his crotch. There is a smile on his face, and in the dim light of the toilet, can barely make out his eyes.

Matthew stands still, even after he has finished pissing. He is not sure what is happening, but curiosity is a magnet that he can’t escape from. The man is not particularly handsome although he is quite fit and muscular, with big hands and soon, as Matthew will see as he continues to stare, a large cock. And that smile on his face that is warmly inviting. He gestures for Matthew to come to him, into the cubicle, but Matthew does not move an inch. He is terrified and breathes deeply in the cool air. He looks at the man’s cock, which is now fully erect. He guess about seven inches, but it is hard to tell for sure where he is standing, so he takes a step closer to find out, and another step, his eyes locked onto the man’s cock. Soon, he is in the cubical with the man with the alluring smile, but he does not see much of the smile for his eyes are now closed, his mouth barely making it halfway through the man’s cock.

Matthew is on his knees. The floor is in urgent need of some cleaning but his pants does not care and neither does he. He tries again to bury the cock deep into his mouth but it is too big, gags, pulls away, but two strong hands hold his head in place and he can’t breathe.

“Use your nose, faggot,” says the man, without letting go of his hold on Matthew ’s head. He does what he is ordered and soon finds the rhythm, much to the man’s enjoyment. His dad must be wondering where he is right now but his thought is interrupted when the man lifts him up off his knees, turns him around, pushes him against the cubical wall, pulls down his pants.

“What are you doing?” Matthew asks, but thick strong hands cover his mouth. One of the man’s forearm has a tattoo of a scorpion. The man pushes a wet finger into his ass, and the unfamiliar sensation feels kind of nice to Matthew, who has never done anything like this before. The rather good feeling is soon replaced with pain as the man’s raw cock enters his hole. It does not fit, of course, for it is too big, but one can always force their way into something if you give it a big enough push. The man’s hand muffles the cry of pain and the plea for help, which does arrive when the door to the public toilet opens.

“Are you in here, Matty?” asks his father.

“Call for help and I’ll break your neck,” says the man with the scorpion tattoo.

“Yeah,” Matthew says, the slow stroke of cock pumping inside him continues. “I’ll be out in a moment.”

“Alright,” says his father. “This place bloody reeks.” He stands there for a moment before leaving, and just as the door closes, the man continues his assault on Matthew’s ass. “Should have invited your old man to join us,” says the man.  Matthew does not answer. His body is there but his mind is elsewhere, in a place that is lost and far away. There is an expression that is appropriate to use here: the lights are on but nobody’s home. The man has stolen Matthew’s innocence and his spirit, and it is something that is gone forever. “You’ll learn to love this soon enough, faggot.”

The man holds Matthew ’s body close to him now as he begins to pump faster and harder. There is no longer any reason to cover Matthew’s mouth as he has lost the urge to resist a long time ago, now just a body for another’s enjoyment. The release comes quickly. The man slaps Matthew’s ass, calls him a ‘good boy,’ buckles up, leaves. Matthew stands there for a moment, cum and shit dripping down his thigh. He cleans himself up with toilet paper, pulls up his pants, leaves.

“That took you a while,” his father says. “Is everything alright?”

“Must be something I ate,” Matthew lies. “I’m going to grab some shut eye for a while.”

“I’ll wake you up when we get there,” says his father.

Matthew pulls down the chair to his father’s Holden Civic, closes his eyes, and falls asleep. Somewhere deep inside him, the incurable strain of HIV begins their work in transforming him.

Edited October 15, 2022 by Philip

[Philip]

The Second Chapter

April 1996. Matthew is 18 years old.

He lived. He came. He conquered.

 

Matthew wakes up in the middle of the night. It is two in the morning and his bed is soaked with sweat. He stays in bed for the next three days and he’s on his feet again on the forth, and his life precedes as normal on the fifth, although ‘normal’ may be too kind of a word to use here, as nothing from this point onwards is normal in the world of Matthew Taylor.

He hears of the dreaded news one day at the doctor’s office, but much of this memory has become a blur to him.

“’m sorry to say,’ says the doctor, sorrowfully, ‘that you are HIV positive.” These are the words that no one should ever hear, and definitely not to a boy of Matthew’s age who did not ask to receive this. “Now, there are limited treatment options …” continues the doctor, but Matthew does not register anything else from this point onwards. The world drowns out in white noise as he sees his future disappearing before his eyes, not wanting to die at such an early age. He weeps in his car and the sky weeps along with him on the drive back home. He weeps himself to sleep until there are no more tears to shed, even if he tries.

Six month later.

He feels different. He feels stronger. He feels hornier. Matthew's body is changing and he feels very powerful, so he goes to the gym on a daily basis and in no time at all, he is very muscular. He particularly enjoys the attention that he is receiving from the onlookers of men on the streets, at the gym, at school. He is at his best friend’s place and they are playing cards when his friend has to leave for soccer practice, so now he is home alone with his best friend’s dad, Scott, who has just arrived home from his work as an electrician.

“Can I get you anything to drink, mate?” Scott asks.

“Water’s fine, Mr. Anderson,” Matthew replies.

“You know you can call me Scott. How’s school going?”

“It’s going alright. Semester’s holiday is coming up.”

Scott hands Matthew a glass of water. Matthew has never paid any particular attention to Scott before up until this point. He’s always seen him as his best friend’s dad and nothing else, but now, alone in the kitchen with just the two of them, Matthew finds him particularly attractive, with the scruffy two day beard and the tradie uniform that was in desperate need of washing. There is a scent that Matthew often releases, masculine and dominating, that seems to wither down men’s inhibition, making them more seductive, submissive. It was having an effect on Scott, the bulge in his pants becoming noticeably apparent and he begins to have difficulty diverging his gaze away from Matthew's own pants. He doesn’t know what has gotten over him.

‘Is everything alright, Mr. Anderson?’ Matthew asks.

‘Yeah, just have to use the bathroom,’ Scott says, and he excuses himself quickly. Matthew follows him, and he meets him in the bathroom splashing water on his face. They meet each other’s gazes in the mirror and for a brief moment, no one says anything, until Matthew begins to rub the bulge on his pants. Scott can’t take his eyes of it, although he does try very hard to do so. Temptation takes hold of Scott and he turns around, walks towards Matthew, pulls his pants down, gets on his knees, tastes him with his mouth. He is not particularly good at it, scraping Matthew’s cock with his teeth from time to time, and often gagging on the size. Scott’s eyes are closed as he rocks back and forth and Matthew wonders what he is thinking at this moment, on his knees serving another man for the first time, while his wife and kids are away.

There is a slight guilt that runs through Matthew’s body on what they are doing and what will happen in the next ten minutes or so, but he brushes the thought and feeling away, the same way that you might clear a table by pushing everything on the floor, and fills his mind with lust and excitement as to what he is about to do to this man.

He pulls Scott off the ground and they kiss. It is passionate and romantic that rivals that of his wife. They walk to his best friend’s room and he pushes Scott onto the bed on his back, removes his pants. Scott’s ass is hairy and tight. Matthew spits on his dick and on Scott’s hole and slides it in, slowly, until it is balls deep. He looks into Scott’s eyes, brown and a bit vacant, as he thrusts, slowly at first, then a bit faster, while Scott lays there silently. It is difficult to tell for sure whether Scott is enjoying the experience, from the silence, but it doesn’t matter because to Matthew, he, like any other men he had conquered, is just a piece of meat for his own pleasure. His life will be short-lived after the infection, like that of Matthew, but he has served his purpose of pleasuring men. It was unfair and unjust to shorten Matthew's life like that, with the infection, and he was determined to take down as many people along the way as he could for as long as he lived.

“You will learn to love this,” Matthew whispers in Scott’s ear, releasing deep inside him in the process. He pulls his dick out and Scott is quick to put it back into his mouth to clean it. Indeed, Scott does learn to love this, and he is often found with a raw dick inside him on business meetings across the country soon after.

 

 

[Philip]

The Third Chapter

July 1999. Matthew is 23 years old.

To the love on one’s job.

 

It is a hot summer night on Wellington Street as Matthew exits his car. He parks just around the corner, and begins waking to the sauna. The street is particularly empty at this time of the night, ten o’clock is the time, unlike the nearby street of Peel which is always busy with people, especially tonight, which happens to be a Saturday.

He walks past the empty Anytime Fitness gym and walks into the building marked Wet on Wellington. He has a shift tonight, as he always does during the weekend.

“Busy tonight?” Matthew asks the man at the counter. The man’s name is Somchai, a Thailander, very young and very pretty with diamond studs in both ears. He’s been fucked by Matthew many times, usually after his shift in the darkness of the upstair’s room or, once, behind the building in the alleyway, concealed by one or two dumpsters.

“Getting there,” Somchai replies and blushes. “You’re early for your shift.”

“Just seeing who’s around first, that’s all,” Matthew says.

Somchai hands Matthew the key to the massage room and buzzes him through the door.

“Before I forget,” Somchai says, “the boss wanted me to give you this.” He hands Matthew a small brown envelope. “What’s in it anyway?”

Matthew takes the envelope and smiles without replying, walks away. He passes a few men in the locker room with towels wrapped around their waists, walks up the giant flight of stairs to the second level, and into the massage room. His client won’t be here for another ten minutes. He rips the upper corner of the envelope and empties the content, which contains a dozen or so packets of white patches and a note which falls to the ground. The patches remind him of Nicotine Patches but he knows what these are really for and he smiles nefariously. The notes simply says ‘Use Wisely. Enjoy, from the Boss.’

A knock on the door heralds the arrival of his first client for the night, a muscular guy with black hair and eyes the colour of chocolate cake. They exchange hellos and the man undresses, lays on his stomach, and the massage begins. Slowly, Matthew undresses too, until he is butt-naked, but the man does not mind, not even a little. The oil is slick on the man’s skin, and he almost falls asleep when he notices something hard poking at his face, and is surprised to see Fernando’s dick at his face.

“Oh,” the man says, “sorry, I’m straight. I’m not into that sort of thing.” Taken aback, Matthew apologies quickly and resumes his massage. A few minutes goes by and something happens rather quickly that the man does not anticipate. A patch of something white sticks to the side of his neck but it is applied so gently that he never notices it. His heart beats faster and he becomes uncontrollably horny as the drug from the patch begins to work its magic all around his body. At this moment, Matthew smirks and begins rubbing a generous amount of oil on the man’s butt, fingering his ass with a finger, followed by another, much to the man’s enjoyment. Matthew attempts to feed the man his cock once more and this time the man is eager to feed on it as if he is starved. He can’t seem to stop himself. All the while, Matthew continues to finger his ass, and when it is ready, Matthew pushes the man down back on his stomach, climbs on top of the massage table, slides his dick inside the man with ease. It is tight, no less than that of a virgin, perhaps it might be given the straight acting nature of the man but nonetheless, it won’t be a virgin after tonight. The man winces in pain before he is overcome with pleasure and he rocks his bottom back and forth on Fernando’s cock. Soon, their thrusts are in sync with each other. It doesn’t take long for Matthew to come, thick and creamy, deep inside the man’s ass, which he tightens to milk down to the last drop. His dick slides out gracefully, still hard, feeds it to the man who happily swallows it in one go, cleans it while on his knees, cum dripping out of his ass and down the back of his thigh. The massage is over. Matthew kisses the man and slaps his ass as he exits the room as the next appointed man awaiting his massage walks in. This would continue for the next three hours in the massage room, and every man would be bred by Fernando, some more willing than others, but never as resistant as the first man of the night, but there is always the white patch of drug if he ever has to cross that bridge again.

It is one in the morning and Matthew has finished his shift for tonight. A knock on the door and it’s Somchai who has also finished his shift. Somchai locks the door behind him and, like he does every night when he knows when Matthew finishes his shift, goes down on his knees without anybody asking and begins working on Fernando’s thick cock with his talented mouth. Somchai can taste the asses of the men Matthew has fucked throughout the night but he doesn’t care, and he offers up his own ass to Matthew which Matthew doesn’t hesitate to take advantage of. Somchai is nothing more than a sex toy which Matthew uses for his own pleasure, and he rewards Somchai for his loyalty with a load deep inside him.

Matthew exits the room, down the corridor, and as he walks past the darkroom catches the glimpse of the muscular man with black hair from earlier. He is bent over with a cock in his mouth and a cock in his ass, and there are many men surrounding them all jerking off, and waiting for their turn with the man.

[Philip]

The Fourth Chapter

September 2001. Matthew is 25 years old.

To the love of his life.

 

At this point in the story, Matthew has had sex with hundreds of men, infecting each and everyone of them with the incurable strain of HIV. His soul is a bottomless pit that can never be filled no matter how many men that he sleeps with, but he truly believes that when he finds the man that had originally infected him, and carry out his revenge, that this bottomless pit can finally be filled and that death, whenever that may be, will come peacefully.

It is a cloudless night in 2001 when he feels weak on his knees after releasing into a man at his job at Wet on Wellington. He had felt this weakening feeling before, but not to this extreme, and as the man thanks him and leaves the massage room, he collapses on the floor and blanks out.

He awakes in the bed of a hospital, connected to monitors that beeps and buzzes all around him. A man is sitting there beside his bed and it takes a moment for Matthew to register that it is Somchai. He is asleep on the chair, head down, chin on his chest, snores softly. Matthew finds this kind of cute, in a way that he never felt for this man before. He awakes moments later and is startled to find Matthew finally awake and he closes the distance between them with a hug.

The doctor comes in and informs Matthew that he had collapsed three days ago and has been in the hospital ever since. His conditions have stabilized and he is due to be released soon but the doctor still has one piece of news that he wanted to share with Matthew. He had been diagnosed with AIDS, which in this day and age with the current medication would mean that he needed to get his affairs in order, a saying which meant that he didn’t have much time to live. The doctor exchanges a look of sadness to both Matthew and Somchai and slowly exits the room. The sadness lingers in the air and does not exit even though the window is left slightly ajar. It smothers the two young men in the room and conjures up a steady stream of tears as they embrace one another.

“You didn’t have to come here,” Matthew tells Somchai.

“I know. But I wanted to,” he replies, and in that moment, from the way Somchai’s eyes look at him, and the energy in the room, Matthew knows that they hold a deeper connection, one that transcends the realm of this existence and into another one.

It is nighttime when Matthew wakes up with his cock being serviced. Somchai has left for the night—doctor requests—and when he opens his eyes, he is surprised to see it is one of the male nurses that had come in to check up on him. He is quite good with a cock in his mouth and Matthew relaxes and lets the nurse do his thing. In a few moments, the nurse pulls down his pants and begins to ride his cock, ever so quietly as to avoid unnecessary attention, and in a few strokes he releases inside the nurse. He stays there for a moment to take it all in, squeezing his ass tight to milk every last drop but a few drops does manage to drip out of his ass and down his legs as he gets off, but he doesn’t mind and pulls up his pants and go off on his merry way to resume his job. Matthew falls back asleep. This repeats for the next few nights until he is released from the hospital.

When the weekend arrives, Matthew heads back into Wet on Wellington to resume his job as a masseur, but life still has a few more curveballs installed for him. The Boss informs him that his service is no longer needed.

“We can’t have you going around infecting people with HIV,” says the Boss. ‘It’s bad for business. If they die, who will come here then?”

Matthew stays silent. He did not tell the Boss that he had been infecting people ever since the Boss had taken him into this role for the last seven years. He did not tell the Boss that there was no way of knowing whether someone had HIV, or any other sorts of bugs for that matter. And he did not tell the Boss that he too, probably has HIV after having sex with Matthew in the early days of his career. He remains silent and leaves the sauna early for the night and visits the nearby gay club, Sircuit, to drink away his problems, and it was on this particular night that he meet someone whom he wanted to meet for a very long time.

Sitting at the bar, by himself, is the man with the scorpion tattoo on his right forearm. He looks much older than Matthew had remembered, but he would recognize the man from anywhere and anytime, and tonight, Sircuit is the where and now is the time. He sits next to the man and orders a drink, strikes up a conversation. He is surprised when the man does not recognise him, not even a little, and when he is distracted, slips a pill into his drink which sizzles and disappears. The bartender sees this but does not say a word, having witnessed too many acts of this kind to even care. The man drinks his glass, becomes drowsy, and Matthew offers him a ride home, carries him to his car, but drives in a direction other than either of their homes. If there was a place to dispose of a body, it would have to be the Grampians.

[Philip]

The Final Chapter

To the choices that we make in life.

 

Matthew makes a pit stop at the closest Woolworth to buy some duct tape. He uses it to tie the man’s hands and feet together along with his mouth and drops him in the boot of the car, and resumes his travels to the Grampians. The drive is fairly long, and they don’t reach the peak of the cliff until well into the night, when the moon has already made friends with all the stars in the sky. He pulls the man out of the boot of the car, who is still asleep from the drug, places him a few meters from the edge of the cliff, sits beside him. He stares at the man’s face while he is sleeping and a rush of emotions floods Matthew. He feels a dash of anger from being infected by this man, his life changed ever since. He never asked for this difficult life and it only took one night to change everything. He wonders where life would have taken him if he weren’t infected. He feels a sprinkle of pity for the man, whose time had not been kind to him, now very old and very sick-looking, laying there on the muddy cliff. He wonders how long the man has left to live. And most importantly, he feels a pinch of hope, for Matthew’s life is not over yet, there’s still a bit of time to live out his life, especially now that Somchai is a part of it. He wonders what Somchai is up to at the moment.

The man stirs as the drug wears off and he immediately panics when he realises that he is bound and gagged. He begins to squirm like a worm, and in doing so, edges closer and closer to the side of the cliff.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Matthew says.

The man continues to wiggle until he faces the edge and the edge faces him, his eyes widen, stops moving. Matthew sighs and pulls the man away from the edge, rips the tape off his mouth quickly and painfully, sits back down beside him.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” asks the man.

“Well, I was going to throw you off the cliff.”

“Do I know you?”

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

The man looks at Matthew's eyes and he does remember, even though it has been a very long time ago. “You’re that kid from the truck stop toilet, aren’t you? Boy did I enjoy fucking you. Wish your old man had joined in.” The man laughs cruelly, showing what’s left of his stained teeth. Fury takes over Matthew and he punches the man right in the jaw, but he continues to laugh, though through obvious pain, blood dripping between the gaps in his teeth.

“Go ahead and kill me,” says the man with the scorpion tattoo. “I’m going to die anyway, one way or another.” Matthew looks at the man and waits for him to continue. “And by the look of your face, you’re on the same boat as me. We are both going to die from AIDs, and there is nothing anyone can do about it, so we might as well let the world burn as we go down along with it. There is no beauty on this planet, just pain and misery.”

The sun begins to rise very slowly from the east. The first light breaks the horizon and it creeps its way across the landscape and chases away the night. When the light washes over the man, Matthew can see clearly that the man is dying, not only from the outside, but within his soul. He sees himself in the dying man, like a mirror being held in front of him, and he is afraid of the person that he has and will become. Ending this man’ life, Matthew realises, will not give him closure, for the man had died a long time ago—metaphorically speaking—when he had given up hope on his life. He is a wandering shell that walks the earth, struggling by, waiting for the time when death comes knocking at his door.

“You are wrong,” Matthew tells the man. “There is beauty in this world. You just didn’t find it in this lifetime.” Matthew takes a knife hidden in his jacket and lunges at the man, who is taken aback and yells for mercy. The knife slices the air and cuts cleanly through the tape bounding the man’s hand, freeing him. He drops the knife to the ground, looks at the man’s eyes for one last time, starts the car and drives off. The man is shaken by what he has witnessed, grabs the knife and slices the tape bounding his legs. He sits at the edge of the cliff for a few hours, pondering his life, his future and, deciding that there is none, pushes himself off the cliff.

Matthew comes home just before ten in the morning. Somchai is still asleep, snoring, naked. He slides into bed and stares silently at him. Somchai’s face is peaceful in the illumination of the light that filters through the window. A few minutes go by and he opens his eyes, slowly at first, then much too wide.

“Where were you?” Somchai asks.

“I had to take care of some business,” Matthew says. The distance between them becomes non-existence as they hug each other. They embraced each other now, and they embraced each other for the years to come, past their wedding day, and past their honeymoon, and past the many difficult hospital visits that were yet to transpire. Matthew was happy for the remaining years of his life, now with the bottomless pit filled to the brim with the love that he shared with his partner, who had stayed with him until the very end. Sometimes, we can’t choose what happens to us when we are young, but we always have a choice now and into the future what happens to us.

[timfreo]

Should have been thrown off Boroka Lookout

[LthrRaw]

What a hot story! Further enhanced by the local references 🙂

[billy88666]

A very skillfully written short story. I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was concise but you  still managed to leave me feeling empathy for Matthew and his remaining years with Somchai.

[drscorpio]

Moderator's Note: I am a little disturbed by this story. It clearly approaches violating the rule against promoting harm to our community. Since  you managed to make it into a redemptive arc, I am going to let it ride. Be mindful of this going forward. 

[leatherpunk16]

13 hours ago, drscorpio said:

Moderator's Note: I am a little disturbed by this story. It clearly approaches violating the rule against promoting harm to our community. Since  you managed to make it into a redemptive arc, I am going to let it ride. Be mindful of this going forward. 

Fuck "going forward". Do not use this garbage phrase that adds nothing to your sentence.

[seattlebbbtm]

I do not always agree with the moderators, but please do not attack them. If you read the news, you know religious and moral zealots want nothing more than to shutter sites like this. If we cannot exhibit a modicum of restraint and tolerate necessary self-regulation, the government will do it for us. Let’s start with respect for the rules to preserve this fantastic forum for creative and imaginative queer eroticism.

[amsrat]

On 10/17/2022 at 3:47 AM, drscorpio said:

Moderator's Note: I am a little disturbed by this story. It clearly approaches violating the rule against promoting harm to our community. Since  you managed to make it into a redemptive arc, I am going to let it ride. Be mindful of this going forward. 

This note has had me thinking for a couple of days.
Although I understand not advocating harm to our community, does that mean there is no place here for the feelings of those whose choice was taken from them?

[Guest]

On 10/16/2022 at 8:47 PM, drscorpio said:

Moderator's Note: I am a little disturbed by this story. It clearly approaches violating the rule against promoting harm to our community. Since  you managed to make it into a redemptive arc, I am going to let it ride. Be mindful of this going forward. 

“Going to let it ride?” Parts of this story resonates with different people. (Hopefully not the intent to infect people). Whether fiction, fantasy, or a release of a  painful experience, how are you going to let another person’s post about redemption, coming to terms, and changing his outlook on an event ride?
 

The fiction act of violence and promoting harm is what you are asking the author to be mindful of? Is that capturing and dragging the rapist to the cliff scene you are referring to? If so, that is some bull, while the whole forum is about willfully and harmfully infecting members of “our and their community”. 
 

Do you only watch the Hallmark channel or something? 

[lancguy14]

To be fair, this isn't even an original story; it's at best copied, at worst straight-up (pardon the pun) plagiarized. I mean, unless Matthew's having an identity crisis and goes by "Fernando" on occasion. 🤨

As for the "let it ride" comments, I have no problem with this. It would be human nature to feel anger and revenge, and since it shows that humanity can sometimes prevail it should be left as an example to "do better". That said, agree with the moderator (and site rules) that actively promoting cruel, willful harm is disgusting and has no place here. Rape in and of itself has never been acceptable and should never be glorified, but in the context of setting up a story, it is--unfortunately--a more-common-than-it-should-be occurrence, and can often be the starting point for a story about an individual's life.

I don't envy the moderators. They have a fine line to tread, and them taking advantage of a cheap, stolen, copy-paste story to drop in a warning is fine by me.

Note to author: next time you want to steal someone's stuff (and no, it wasn't mine), at least have the common sense to do a search-replace to fix your names and not make it so damn obvious. In this case, you blew it. And not in the way any of us would have prefered... 😏

[Philip]

@lancguy14 Oh dear, this was such a silly (and funny) mistake on my end. I did a quick word search and found five instances of the name “Fernando” in the story, which I have edited to the correct name. Thanks for pointing that out. I hope it didn’t confused the readers, and if it did, please forgive me🙏.

This is an original story that I have written. For those wondering about the name confusion, I posted a chapter from this story a few weeks ago called “Working Title: The Second Chapter,” where the main character was named Fernando instead of Matthew. I decided to include real places in the story (e.g., Wet on Wellington, Sircuit, Coles, Woolworth—actually, it should have been called ‘Safeway’) in the time period of 1990-2000’s, so I decided to go for a name change to reflect this. I thought the search-replace function I used replaced all instances of Fernando into Matthew, but it appeared that it missed a few times. 

In fact, back in 2017, I written a story called “A Series of Unfortunate Breedings” including the character Fernando and his sexual adventures, under a different username and pen name, so I decided to go back and finish this story (the majority of the original story has since been removed on Breeding Zone for violating the rules). The story you have read is the remastered version of this original story ☺️

@drscorpio Thank you for letting the story ride. I will keep the rules in mind for future stories ☺️