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Wow what a fantastic chapter! I read every word of it and damn it's amazing. The way you write verbal poz sex between a prolific gifter and his latest conquest is just magnificent! Of course my mind is racing trying to think of what's gonna happen next now that a hot 22 yo nephew is in town. 

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On 7/7/2023 at 4:38 PM, Vancrawman said:

Oops I forgot that S*T*N* is a no-no word around here, LOL how it got changed to Sarah Palin, ok whatever! LOL

Moderator’s Note: That is an automatic feature to discourage using that name. The software that runs the forum does it. I edited your story replacing “Sarah Palin” with “the devil.” Are you okay with that change?

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1 hour ago, drscorpio said:

Moderator’s Note: That is an automatic feature to discourage using that name. The software that runs the forum does it. I edited your story replacing “Sarah Palin” with “the devil.” Are you okay with that change?

yes, thank you !

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  • 2 weeks later...

**This is a work of fantasy and fiction. Any similarity to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. Nothing in this work should be construed as medical advice in any way**

 

CHAPTER XII: HEADING TO THE RETIREMENT POZZING PARTY

 

Clay walked in a tossed his backpack down on the couch and plopped himself down as well, with a relieved sigh:

“I’m sorry for just showing up like this, Uncle Randy, but my Dad didn’t know where else I should go.”

I’m a little pissed that this sudden family crisis has interrupted my plans for today, which was lunch with Eric and Keith…

“Don’t you have a boyfriend, Clay,? “ I asked, trying not to sound too irritated, and hoping I can drop him off at his BFs.

“Nah, I just said that to piss off my Mom,” he laughed “she deserved it for being such a bitch about it.”

He was not going to get any argument from me about his Mom. I couldn’t stand her 23 years ago and my opinion of the judgmental hypocrite has only declined over the years.

“Anyway,” Clay continued, “ I’m just as likely to have a girlfriend as a boyfriend, I don’t do labels. I fucked plenty of guys and girls in college, sometimes at the same time.”

“OK,” I responded with a laugh, and thinking to myself that my hot nephew has not the pure innocent his mother thought he was for some time now.

“You got a lot of tats now, Uncle Randy.” It was then that I realized I hadn’t put on a shirt after Richie left. “Does that one,” he pointed at my biohazard symbol, “mean anything special?”

“What do you think it means, Clay?”

“Looks to me like you’re HIV+ which is cool you got a tat to commemorate it, if that’s the right word,”

“Absolutely the right word, Clay – commemorate! I like the sound of that.” To this, he just kind of shrugs. He’s impressively unimpressed by my poz status and doesn’t bother to ask about the two “X”s next to the biotat.

“Hey Uncle Randy, mind if I get some sleep now?” he asked, and I showed him to the guest room, clearing aside several pieces of leather and sex-stuff I had stored in there, including a leather harness with biohaz designs on the shoulder straps.

“Let me get this stuff out of the way,” I said, making room on the dresser for him. “I’m going to a…convention…in a couple of weeks and this is just some stuff for that.”

“Cool, OK,” he replied, as laid back and unbothered by POZ merch as I could have hoped him to be. Maybe he was tired from lack of sleep and it hadn’t registered fully with him or maybe he just didn’t care. I got him some sheets and towels and shut the door and let him rest for awhile.

I had some work meeting to deal with and before I knew it, it was past 3:00 PM, when Clay emerged from his room, he had on his underwear and a T-shirt and his sandy hair was a mess, but damn my nephew looked fine.

We exchanged pleasantries and I made him something to eat, and as he ate, he asked me “So what is this ‘convention’ you’re going to?

Now, I had told him it was a “convention,” but what was really planned was a “conversion.” Eric,, Keith and I were each going to a well-appointed 6-bedroom rental house in the mountains near Lake Tahoe, and we were each gonna bring along a poz-toxic friend – Benny had already accepted my invitation as my “POZ PLUS ONE” , and we were encouraged to bring as many neg chasers as we can get to poz up. So there’d be 6 gifters all together, hopefully a bunch of neg holes to poz up with HIV. It was something we’d been planning for months now – a whole week of poz fucking lucky neg bottoms right into the HIV brotherhood and a whole lot more Xs to get tatted on ourselves indicating the spreading of precious HIV seed.

The following day, Clay already had a temp job lined up, so I had my lunch with the boys. It was at the postponed lunch I had the next day with Eric and my pozzer Keith that Eric told me more of the long weekend plans.

“It’s also my retirement party,” he said. “I’m retiring from gifting. It’s time to go on meds. I had a great run, pozzed over 50 guys, including that waiter,” he said, pointing over to the tall hot waiter with the ebony skin and beautiful butt in his tight pants. “But the doctor told me I’m on the next level now, so I hope I can get a few more conversions with my AIDS-seed and then go on meds.

“At some point, it happens to us all, Randy,” Keith added. I’m watching my VL as well and I still definitely want to make 50 converts but I’ll probably hang it up then as well. 50 is a nice round number to have infected into the brotherhood. I can retire proudly knowing I upgraded 50 with my strain. And our doc has finally figured that so few of his patients respond to the meds cuz so few actually take them.”

“Was he angry with you?” I asked Keith, the Idealistic Young Gay Doctor’s hot serial-pozzing nurse.

“Nah, he figured something was happening,” Keith answered “’You had your fun, now take care of yourself,’” he said. “I told him I wasn’t quite ready to curtail my fun but I would at some point.”

And what fun infecting all these guys it was! Eric had just gotten his  5th X, signifying 50 known pozzings. He also was a regular at the local sex club sticking his poz cock through many a glory hole and breeding bottoms at will, as well as attending the infamous Biohazard Party in Spain a few times, so how many he’s truly knocked up will never really be known.

As for Keith, he  just got inked with his 4th, infiltrating his viral seed into 40 once-neg, now-enhanced poz holes. And as for me, I was nearing my 30th known conversion – Richie from the other night and a couple others already in the poz pipeline would get me there, just waiting on the beautiful results when some hole I bred a few weeks prior texts me a pic of his test with the two lines – it’s such a power rush to the head, filling me with pride at my accomplishment and a bolt of electricity through me, straight down to my poz pole and re-filling my balls with potent viral babies for the next conversion. The rest of the lunch was us prolific pozzers swapping breeding stories and planning our poz retreat in the woods overlooking Lake Tahoe.

At one point, Eric headed off to the mens room to meet the waiter, Bryce…They returned a few minutes later.

“Recharged him,” he announced to us; we just nodded in understanding.

For the next two weeks, I hadn’t seen much of Clay – his temp job was in an office someplace and he would go out after work, finally coming in around midnight every night, then he’d get up early and be out the door in the morning. He was saving up for an apartment of his own and I told him it was fine to stay at my place awhile longer.

One Saturday afternoon when he was home, he looked up from his phone and remarked “I hear around the neighborhood you and your buds are pretty notorious.”

“How so,” I asked him, trying not to give too much away. I had no idea how he felt about bugchasing or gifting.

“You and your friends Eric and Keith are fucking a lot of guys who are chasing that,” he said, pointing to my biotat and X’s inked across my abdomen.

“That’s true,” I admitted to my nephew. In fact, the little trip I’m taking next week to Tahoe is a party just for that purpose.”

“I’ve never been to Tahoe – can I come?”

“To do what, Clay?, I quizzically asked him, “you know the point is for Eric and Keith and me to poz up some neg holes. Eric will be going on his meds after the Tahoe trip so it’s kind of a *retirement party* for him.”

“I’d be down with getting pozzed up by him,” he stated matter-of-factly, barely looking up from his phone, “I figure PrEP is one pill a day and so is HIV for most guys – one pill a day. Might as well get it over with.”

“Just so you know,” I cautioned, “it’s not exactly that for everyone. Your mileage may var, maybe talk to this doctor I know.”

Unbothered by my warning, he turned his phone around to show me he was looking at Eric’s BZ profile. “Plus, he’s hot as fuck. Imagine having that strain inside me! I like your bud Keith as well. I put it together from your BZ pages that it was Keith who turned you poz, is that right?”

“Yep,” I replied to my nephew, a bit sheepishly. I’m not sure why I was hesitant to discuss this with him, we have barely seen each other over the last 15 years and I certainly don’t care what his parents think.

“So, let me come with you to Tahoe,” Clay continued. If I can get tagged by Eric and Keith, I’d be happy and with my track record, it’s just a matter of time ‘til I get pozzed so might as well be by a couple of hot guys I want to hook up with.”

And that’s how I found myself driving up to Lake Tahoe with Benny, the formerly shy bear who was one of my first I infected with my HIV, riding shotgun, and in the back seat was my nephew Clay. When they greeted each other at my front door this morning, Benny just arriving from the airport, they embraced and kissed deeply and I had to remind them we had a 6-hour drive ahead of us.

As we drove, I regaled them with the info on the two bottoms from the Tahoe area that I had been chatting with were also making their way to the mountain house:

Aaron, 30, shoulder-length brown hair, a hot slim bod from being a marathon runner and from what I could tell from his pics, an almost-hair free torso and butt. Benny the bear would like him a lot.

Byron, 23, a hot mixed-race casino worker from Reno. We had been trying to arrange a pozzing session but our schedules never lined up – but when I told him about the conversion week in Tahoe and sent pics of Eric, Keith and Benny, he quickly cleared his work schedule and said he’d be there. Byron already had a tattoo on his lower back reading “CUM DUMP,” so he was a pro at taking loads but hadn’t yet been able to level-up to poz.

Somewhere north of Bakersfield, Benny suggests a pit stop at a convenience store and he and Clay go inside while I fill up the tank.

They are in there for over 10 minutes as I wait. Finally, they emerge with drinks and snacks from the store, into the desert heat,, Benny strips off his shirt in to reveal his biohaz and scorpion tats and 2 black X’s, meaning he’s got 20 known pozzings under his belt. Clay turns to look at touches the tats and as they make their way to the car, they both pile in the back seat, pawing at each other like the animals they are.

“Guys, can you wait ‘til we get there,” I say, sounding like a prude and instantly ashamed of my tone. But we are in a very public place so I put the car in drive and pull out of the parking lot and back onto the highway.

“We already fucked a couple of minutes in the bathroom back there,” Benny relayed, “but someone was knocking on the door, so we got snacks instead.”

As I’m driving, the two of them are getting back to where they were interrupted in the truck stop mens room. Benny has Clay’s pants pulled down and is tonguing his hole, getting it ready for Benny’s poz cock to invade and spray its venom inside him.

“Getting poz fucked in the back of this car,” Clay breathlessly says, “Haven’t even made it to Tahoe yet and I might be going in pozzed up.”

“It’s your uncle’s strain I’m passing on to you, Clay, so good chance it’s happening right here, right now,” Benny says, spitting on his cock and sliding it up my nephew’s manhole, right there in back of me, and at 70mph.

“Poz me up, Sir,” Clay calls out. After a couple of minutes, he and Benny have changed position…for a big bear of a man, Benny is surprisingly adept at the intricacies of car sex as he and Clay flip over and Clay is now riding on Benny’s poz weapon.

This continues for a few minutes, my nephew’s head rising and falling as he rides my poz progeny’s cock straight into the brotherhood. Suddenly, he dismounts off Benny and turns him around and announces his intentions:

“I’m gonna fuck my last neg load into your hole, man!”

And with that, he is plunging his substantial cock up Benny’s ass, thrusting it deep inside the hairy poz bear and blowing his neg load deep inside him.

“Fucking take my load,” as he gyrates his body 7 or 8 times into Benny. My poz son takes the gift and with one motion, raises Clay off him and lowers him down onto Benny’s pozzing stick which I can see from the rearview mirror, looks ready to blow.

Benny is shuddering and shaking as his toxic seed fills my nephew with the viral gift he was looking for.

“Welcome to the beautiful world of HIV, kid,” Benny asserts, flexing up into Clay’s insides to get every last drop of the poison into the young man.

I have to admit I was initially reluctant to think about my brother’s son that way, but this scene playing out in the car’s back seat has got my poz dick out and rock hard and leaking pre-cum. I’m still concentrating on my driving when Benny pops up behind me and offers to drive.

“You wanna give him some original strain, Randy? I’ll take the wheel, you take his hole.”

With that Clay lays flat on the back seat and opens up his legs, his beautiful nearly hairless hole shimmering with the remnants of Benny’s poz load, and I quickly pull over and join him in the back. My poz cock is streaming a rope of viral precum and I don’t bother to wait for Clay to get comfortable, I just drive it in to the open hole.

Having had the scene of Benny and Clay in my mind already, I know this will be only a few strokes up my nephew’s butt before I christen his insides with the AIDS-load I’m packing, I quickly thrust it like a jackrabbit and then blow about 9 spurts of loaded-up jizz up his hole.

“Boy is pozzed now for sure,” Benny calls out from the drivers’ seat, and as I push the last bits of my bug into Clay’s pozzed-up hole, Benny announces “Only 200 miles to go to Tahoe and non-stop poz on neg fucking!”

Man, this is gonna be a good trip.

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Absolutely amazing, I can not wait for them to get to Tahoe, also I love the fact the idealistic doctor found out, I wish I could have seen that conversation. So great to see them getting up in tats! Can't wait for more!

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Fuck!!!!!!! I've been to Tahoe many times but never took toxic Poz loads on the way there...lucky Clay...wishing it we're me: the fuck flu is roaring down the track!!👦🍑🍆💦☣️🦂😈🔥😋😛

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  • 2 weeks later...

**This is a work of fantasy and fiction. Any similarity to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. Nothing in this work should be construed as medical advice in any way**

CHAPTER XII:  POZWEEK IN TAHOE

Eric certainly comes to a conversion week prepared. As we pull up to the remote but plush cabin, I see him through the big plate glass window. He’s shirtless as always, and has on his bespoke biohazard harness, the one he had custom-made in Berlin – the red leather straps on the back curling around each other to form a perfect biohaz symbol.

Benny, Clay and myself go up the front steps and open the door and we find Eric leading an introductory briefing to the assembled toxic tops, which are:

Eric, (5 X’s) whom I consider the originator of the strain all the POZ guys in attendance are carrying (as well as dozens more around the world).  Eric went poz over 25 years ago, and then spent many of those years on meds, and being ashamed and afraid of his HIV. All the men he’s pozzed since becoming a proud poz pig celebrate his breakthrough moment when he allowed the virus to proliferate inside him…and them. Responsible for over 50 known infections, Eric is using this week in the mountains as his pozzing retirement celebration, he will start meds next week.

Eric’s hot husband Mike (3 X’s) who up until a few years ago, resisted the urge to go poz, although he was fully respectful of Eric’s choices to go and to stay POZ. Mike is about 60, and has kept himself in great shape, with a tight body and a salt-and-pepper beard and a shaved bald head. After about 15 years together, one day he decided to  stop PrEP and let Eric poz him, and since then he himself been a mass infector as well. His 3 black X’s inked across his stomach, and surrounding a pair of biotats living proof of his powerful viral load. Mike and Eric travel often to Berlin and Grand Canaria for poz sex parties, always roping in a few neg holes into the brotherhood in the process.

Keith – (4 X’s) my direct pozfather, he got it from Eric years ago and since then he’s been pozzing guys at a great pace, infecting over 40, many of them he met through his work as a nurse for the Idealistic Young Gay Doctor. His nursing both serves as a conduit through which he finds neg guys to poz and getting poz guys to see the Young Doctor.

Sir Mack (3X’s) – “Sir Mack” is a 6’5” muscle bound Afro-Caribbean man who I’ve heard Eric and Keith talking about, but as he lives across the country in Miami, I had never met him in person, but he’s got a big following on twitter and his fan pages as he pozzes his way through Florida bottoms. Keith invited him as his “Poz Plus One,” and from the videos of Sir Mack that I’ve seen, he has a well-deserved reputation for massive and frequent shots of rich loads of toxic HIV cum from a 9-inch plus pierced pole.

Eric greets me warmly with a deep kiss, and me and Benny, as the last two toxic tops to arrive, introduce ourselves to Mike and Sir Mack, who whispers in my ear:

“I know we’re here to poz up some negs, but I’ve been waiting months to fuck you, so this week, you’re also taking a charge from me, pig.”

“There’s one more tox top coming,” Eric announces, “a last-minute addition who was able to work this into his schedule. He’ll be here shortly. In the meantime,” he says, motioning to Clay, “ you join the other bottoms in the other room and prepare yourselves.”

I watch him as my nephew Clay heads off to the other room where Aaron and Byron are already there, along with however many neg holes the other men have brought for the week’s activities. I understand from Eric that some of the bottoms are choosing to remain nameless, and that’s fine by me, they are only there to service us and receive the gift of our viral loads.

As I turn back to Eric, the front door opens and in walks the last toxic top to join us, and it’s someone I know well.

“Frankie!!” everyone shouts in unison.

The famous “Five Shots Frankie” has joined us. Frankie first fucked me at the sex party that I used to attend, which weren’t strictly poz parties, although all were welcome. He’s a big hairy beast of a man, his thick Italian sausage is always hard and full of cum, and his specialty is producing five enormous cumshots per evening…he doesn’t stop fucking until he shoots five big loads up five holes. I had no idea he was even poz – but now that I see him as he strips off his shirt, he’s got 2 X’s inked next to his enormous blood-red biotat. I’m thrilled to see him –it has been a while – and I rush to greet him with a deep kiss and hug.

“Guys, now that we’re all here,” Eric announces, “let’s review the rules for this week.”

“First, all your loads must go into one of the neg bottoms. You can play with each other but if you’re just shooting your virus into each other, nobody’s getting pozzed. Only on the last day can you recharge each other if you want.

(At that, Sir Mack shoots me a conspiratorial glance).

Secondly, please fuck and breed each neg bottom at least once per day. You were all selected for this week because you are all proven multi-cummers and high viral toxic infectors. Let’s spread our seed like man and get these guys upgraded into the brotherhood!”

“Third, since there are seven of us, I have had made these custom stamps. Come up, men, and take one.”

On the table next to Eric, are rubber stamps and inkpads. As I near the table, I see they are all letters plus one “+” sign. The letters are

H (Eric takes that one)

I (Mikey grabs that one)

V (Keith takes it)

P (Benny claims the P stamp)

O (Sir Mack scoops up the O)

Z (This one I get)

+ (Five Shots Frankie pockets this one)

“Every time you load up a neg hole this week, take your stamp and stamp your letter or symbol on the hole’s back,” Eric went on, “Let’s get them covered in stamps, brothers!  And this specially-made ink on the inkpads is near-permanent, it’ll take weeks to fade away, by then they’ll be pozzed up and I’ll ink them for real at my tattoo parlor. And men, just remember when you leave here at the end of the week, to keep pozzing as long as you can – this may be my retirement from pozzing, but you honor me by continuing my work spreading our mutual strain.”

“Those are the rules, men, just relax and have a good time. Any bottom that’s available is available to fuck and breed, just take them as you want them, you are in charge… just remember to use your stamps after you load up one with your HIV.”

“I understand that Randy and Benny already loaded up Clay on the drive over here, so let’s get him stamped right now!” He calls Clay from the bottom’s room and Clay dutifully greets each toxic top and bends over the couch. Benny stamps his back with the “P” stamp and I add the “Z,” leaving a space in between the letters.

“Well, that boy needs an “O” on his back,” Sir Mack exclaims, and with that, pulls out his enormous, erect pierced poz cock and without so much as a word, walks over to my nephew, lubes the hole and drives his cock deep in his guts.

“Fucking take that poz cock, bitch,” Sir Mack is driving home his viral cock with viral poztalk as Clay buries his head in the couch cushions. “Pozzing your little hole right into next week,” you’re gonna love my strain inside your cunt,” Sir Mack is breathing hard and pile-driving it into the kid now.

“You think that’s rough, faggot? We haven’t even begun to violate your hole,” and with that Sir Mack’s mighty cum-cannon unleashes what looks to be 9 or 10 shots of liquid virus into the nephew’s hole. “That’s a full-blown load you’re getting, pig!”

“Fucking poz him,” a few tops gathered to watch shout out, and with that, Sir Mack stamps Clay’s back with the ‘O” stamp right between where Benny and I stamped him, spelling out “POZ” across the kid’s sweaty back.

“Fuck, just getting warmed up,” where the other holes at”? Sir Mack bellows, and I look over and they’ve filed into the room, offering up their negative asses for inspection and viral insemination. Benny, wasting no time, is deep inside Byron now. Eric, not wasting any moment of his pozzing retirement party week, has unleashed his full-blown AIDS-cock on Aaron, the other bottom from Reno that I invited.

I look over to see any available holes and I’m stunned by who it is I see greedily devouring Keith’s engorged poz tool: The Idealistic Young Doctor!

Keith spies me watching them and motions for me to come over to fuck the young doctor…not needing any further encouragement, I lube up my pierced poison stick and drive it right up the doctor’s neg hole which looks like it had a good brushing.

“I told you Doc had come around to the idea,” Keith smiled and said to me, “He’s already loaded up by me this morning, so let me get this slut stamped”, and Keith slams the V stamp down hard on the doc’s back right above where I’m fucking his hole. I pull out momentarily and rub my precumming cock on the V mark, and thrust it back down the doc’s hole.

“Poz him up, Randy,” give that doc a taste of what he’s warning us about all the time,” Keith said with a devilish grin.

It takes me no time after that encouragement from my own pozzer Keith and soon I’m blasting eight shots of HIVseed into the doctor’s sweet little hole, once pristine and negative, and now on the way to being open, sloppy and most importantly of all, pozzed up with virus. I reach for my inkpad and stamp the Z on his back.

As I dismount off the doc, I look around and poz fucking is going on all over the place, and stamps are starting to proliferate on the neg’s backs, just like the virus is starting to proliferate inside them. As tops finish with one hole, stamping their imprint, they just move on to whatever hole is next available.

Benny has stamped Byron with the P stamp, and with his cock still at attention, moved over to fucking Aaron, right next to Byron but facing the other way as Byron now gets Eric’s prolific pozzing stick up his butt, Benny and Eric leaning over their latest casualties to kiss and share a laugh at the lustful depravity of it all, and it hasn’t even been 45 minutes of fucking yet.

A couple of the other bottoms have emerged and get plunged right in, Five Shots Frankie already breeding two of the unnamed ones and stamping the big + on them.

I look over and Sir Mack is now gouging out the young doctor’s soon-not-to-be-negative hole with his very detectable pole, the entirety of his 9.5 inches pulling out and slamming back in the young doctor’s cunt, frothing up the loads already in him and coating Sir Mack’s ebony dick and 0g P.A. with white poz seed, before he drives it back in the young doctor’s hole, finally another load coming out of the giant and into the tiny doctor and another stamp on his back.

The Idealistic Young Doctor now has 4 stamps on his back, Sir Mack’s O, my Z, Benny’s P and I see Keith’s V; elsewhere around the room, Aaron has collected the H-I-V series, Byron’s on V-P-O-+, and the other unnamed bottoms are an alphabet soup of virus-celebrating stamps on them, this only after about 2 hours of poz fucking.

As the toxic infectors move freely from one neg hole to the next, the sounds of pozsex emanating throughout the cabin as duos and threesomes and groups break off and scatter through the house.

After about an hour of fucking hole, I am taking a short break,  relaxing now with Frankie in the kitchen, enjoying a glass of wine, he fills me in on what he’s been up to.

“I moved to New York for awhile, but before I left, I hooked up with this little twink Justin. I knew he was poz from the biohaz tat on his stomach, but I figured since I’m a total top, nothing like that would happen to me. I fucked him over 10 times over two days and then I drove cross-country to NYC. Imagine my surprise when a month later I get the fuck flu – from a bottom! I was so stunned but at the same time, fucking horny as hell! After I found out, I went right from the clinic to the bathhouse and fucked every anon bottom I could get my cock into! Turns out I love being fuckin’ poz and spreading it around! Look, I already got 2X’s on me!”

He showed me a pic of Justin and I immediately recognized him as the very first victim of my virus, the kid I pozzed after meeting him at Eric’s studio.

“I pozzed that twink, Frankie, he’s one of mine! You got my strain from Justin!” showing him on my phone the text message and poz home test pic that Justin had sent me, the message that started me on my pozzing path.

Frankie just smiled and said “That’s fucking amazing! After I found out, I had to go out and get this,” pointing to the enormous red biohazard tat on his furry mid-section. The X’s came soon after.”

We spend the next few minutes pawing at each other in between showing pics of all the poz tests our newly poz sons have sent us, cementing the bond between us as HIV brothers, Frankie now being a proud mass proliferator, already with 2 X’s tattooed on him and surely more to come.

We disengage and with determination to catch up to our fellow tox brothers spreading viral DNA, we seek out more holes to infect, Frankie making a beeline for the suddenly-available hole of the Idealistic Young Doctor and with one fell swoop, he’s inside the kid and pounding away. I head over to one of the unnamed bottoms and resume my pozzing on his sweet ass. As I’m pozzing him, he’s goading me on:

“That’s it, Sir, poz me up with that AIDS dick,” the young bottom breathlessly says to me. I look at the kid closely, he appears very young, the alphabet soup of stamped letters already scattered on his back.

“How old are you,” I ask him in between thrusts.

“Just turned 18 two weeks ago,” don’t worry, Eric checked my ID, Sir,” been dreaming of getting upgraded to poz for a long time.”

This kid is the younger even that the 19-year old twins Caleb and Callum who I pozzed up over the summer. I even saw on twitter a short clip of Sir Mack breeding Caleb back in Florida, so another great poz circle closed there. I love that some young men know what they want and don’t want to wait, and proudly step up and chase their destiny. This kid will have years to spread the virus to countless others, long after my pozzing career is over. As I think of this while fucking this kid, it results in 10 spurts of virus throbbing into him, my cock pulsing its last bits of HIV up his hole and bringing him into the brotherhood. I stamp his back with the Z stamp.

And it’s like that for the next few hours, until the 7 tops have bred all 6 bottoms and Eric announces they are done for the night, stopping at each hole to plug them one-by-one with a lucite plug with a biohaz sticker on the end, marking each bottom as pozzing in progress, their backs and asses peppered with H-I-V-P-O-Z-+ stamps. Eric sends them off to their room with strict instructions not to remove their plugs…that is, unless one of the poz tops needs servicing in the night.

‘Remember, men, if you need to drop some seed during the night, just take any bottom you like,” he announces and with that we head off for the night, proud at the remarkable job we have done to spread our HIV into the six young neg holes, marking them for life as the poz sluts their destiny calls them to be.

And this pattern repeats itself for the next four nights, I’ve never shot so many loads over a sustained period of time. The stamps H-I-V-P-O-Z-+ now extending all over the bottom’s backs, asses, down their legs and on the front of them as well. Sir Mack even stamped one a couple of the victims right on their foreheads.

On the fifth night, Keith took it upon himself to count the stamps all over the bodies of the neg bottoms, and provided us all with a little census of our pozzing activities:

“Eric, I count 34 H stamps, congrats brother!”

“Mikey,” I count 33 I stamps, well done!”

“Keith,” he says, referring to himself, “has pozzed and marked his V stamp 32 times.”

“Benny, I see the P stamp 31 times, congrats on a great infection number!”

“There are 38 O stamps, Sir Mack, what a great result at bringing these boys into the brotherhood of HIV/AIDS!’

‘Randy, I see 36 Z stamps, good job at getting your virus into those bottoms!

“And our champion so far, Five Shots Frankie, with 42 + stamps. You’re gonna have to change your name to “Seven Shots Frankie!”

All the assembled clap and cheer for our success, as Keith goes on, “These 6 bottoms are certainly leaving pozzed with the beautiful and fruitful HIV virus! They’re leaving us in the morning, men, so get your final loads of viral cum into them while you can!”

The last night is a mad dash for all the poz tops going from one bottom to the next, all our poz cum coating our toxic cocks and making a creamy,  poisonous cum exchange. We all breed each bottom at least one additional time, although I see Five Shots Frankie breeding the Idealistic Young Gay Doctor (I learned his name on this, our last night – it’s Matthew) at least 2 more times. Each bottom’s entire body is festooned with dark inky stamps of HIVPOZ+ on their backs, asses, chests, arms and legs, foreheads. I even see Sir Mack got his stamp on a couple of the bottoms’ bottoms of their feet!

Finally, in the morning, they leave, cumfilled and assuredly pozzed and each hole plugged with the lucite plug with the biohazard symbol on it. Clay got a ride back to L.A. from Matthew, who offered a job to Clay in his office.

Benny had to get to Reno Airport in a couple of hours, so Keith began the Retirement Ceremony for the POZ Daddy to us all, Eric, the proud owner of over 50 known pozzings. By the end of this week, and with some new texts from Eric’s recent conquests, Eric announced to us all that he will be leaving the pozzing world with 6 black X’s tattoed across his belly, tears of pride and accomplishment welling up in his eyes.

All the men assembled gather in one mass, to honor Eric, sucking his cock and opening their holes up for some recharges. Eric leaves us all with his last few toxic loads before his appointment with Matthew the idealistic Young Gay Doctor next week to start his meds. And even though he’ll no longer be toxic, he’ll still be our leader and mentor, his leadership was seminal (!) in building our glorious brotherhood of men, living our lives without fear and openly embracing the virus living inside of us.

It’s hard to break away later that day, all alone after dropping off my poz son Benny at the Airport. I’m dead tired when I finally pull up to my driveway and as I enter, I see my brother and Clay on the front steps in a deep embrace. Clay is wearing only underwear and the HIVPOZ+ stamps are all over his body, including at least 7 Z stamps from me, his poztoxic uncle.

My brother and Clay kiss, unlike any father-son kiss I’ve ever seen. I draw closer to them, my brother sees me and announces:

“Turns out Meredith was pregnant with some other guy’s seed when I married her – Clay is that dude’s biological son. None of that matters, cuz he’s always been my son and I always loved him and now I get to love him even more. I see you and your buddies did quite the number on my boy here…Can’t wait until we take the test and see those 2 lines!” He grabs Clay’s ass and kisses him goodbye.

“See ya, Dad, in a week,” Clay calls out, and with that he’s gone.

I find out later from Clay that my brother started divorce proceedings, bought a place in Palm Springs and he and Clay are setting up house there as a couple.

“Does he know you just got totally pozzed up?” I ask him, still stunned at these revelations.

“Oh yeah, it was part of the deal that I pass it along to him, and then we’re getting matching biotats. And then only a matter of time ‘til we each get our first X. Now, Uncle Randy, let me welcome you home so I can get one more stamp on me!”

~THE END~

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On 8/4/2023 at 1:52 PM, Vancrawman said:

I look over to see any available holes and I’m stunned by who it is I see greedily devouring Keith’s engorged poz tool: The Idealistic Young Doctor!

Keith spies me watching them and motions for me to come over to fuck the young doctor…not needing any further encouragement, I lube up my pierced poison stick and drive it right up the doctor’s neg hole which looks like it had a good brushing.

“I told you Doc had come around to the idea,” Keith smiled and said to me, “He’s already loaded up by me this morning, so let me get this slut stamped”, and Keith slams the V stamp down hard on the doc’s back right above where I’m fucking his hole. I pull out momentarily and rub my precumming cock on the V mark, and thrust it back down the doc’s hole.

“Poz him up, Randy,” give that doc a taste of what he’s warning us about all the time,” Keith said with a devilish grin.

This section, this was my dream in this story. I love seeing the safe sex condom only preachy types eventually succumb to the desires in us all. I wish I could have read more about the young idealistic doctor being taken further and further down in depravity until he broke under Keith and took that first raw load of his life. But still so happy he finally saw the way to live. 

Idk why seeing the preachy holier than thou safe sex saints become cumdumps turn me on so much but it just is the best thing to witness. probably because I still have yet to take a raw load but that's just what makes me moan as I read, thank you so much for writing this amazing serial, every part was a treat that made me cream myself and wish I had someone inside me stretching and flooding me. 

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