THE TEN

[nymidtowneast]

Fuck! This is so hot.

[PozTalkAuthor]

4 hours ago, nymidtowneast said:

Fuck! This is so hot.

this guy's story turns me so fucking on too!

But, well, I'm waiting for yours - you have a couple tales hanging there

 

[nwloads]

Wow that’s hot, looking forward to the next chapter! 

[sleazebugga]

Another very hot chapter! ☣️

[Vancrawman]

**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 VII: Breaking through the PrEP:

 

 

Eric and I had just finished a joint pozzing of Travis, a  young chaser twink off Twitter…he wanted a combo platter of HIV strain from two guys, and I offered my good friend and poz tattoo specialist Eric, who marked me with my biotat after I turned poz myself. Once we had each taken a turn inside his neg hole, I suggested we double-fuck Travis with our poz weapons, and the kid obligingly sat down on both our engorged pierced poz cocks at the same time. His eyes lit up at the double anal invasion, his cock wildly helicoptering around spontaneously started spewing his last neg load into the air in a graceful arc. It was not long after that that Eric and I both simultaneously impregnated the kid with two big toxic HIV loads to upgrade his hole into the poz brotherhood.

 

He dismounted off us and rolled over  in bliss at the pending infection that was already at work, our joint strains infiltrating his bloodstream, marking him forever as pozzed. Eric and I high-fived each other and made our way out of the kid’s apartment, being sure to remind him to text us the good news in a couple of weeks.

 

Eric almost never bothers to wear a shirt, and when I got my biotat, had  2 “X’s” emblazoned around his inked scorpion, meaning he had successfully infected 20+ guys. And while I was doing my best to catch up to him, my relatively meager 6 confirmed pozzings paled next to his, especially now that I saw a 3rd “X” marked on him, marking him as an apex poz predator, converting at least 30 guys into the beautiful poz brotherhood.

 

“Hey, when this twink turns poz, who gets the credit as his pozzer,?” I wondered to Eric as we stepped outside, thinking of my own 1st “X” to get me closer to membership in The Ten.

 

“We both get credit, brother,” he replied, “it’s not a race, I just started way before you. Remember, I’ve been poz-toxic for over 10 years now!” So this twink will be your 7th and my [here he paused to check a note on his phone] my 36th!”, he said proudly. “Maybe the question is will you get your first “X” before I get my fourth one,” he pondered, chuckling at the thought.

 

At that my phone buzzes - another chaser hitting me up, sliding into my DMs asking me to slide my pierced poz smoking gun into his neg unprotected hole. My phone has never had so many text alerts, it was becoming tough to keep the professional career-oriented part of my life separate from the pozzing part of it.

 

“You gotta get some burner phones, dude,” Eric said as we walked to our cars, “I just bought four more for myself, I’ll let you have one,” he said, opening the trunk of his car and pulling out a plastic-wrapped brand new burner phone.

 

“You need this to keep it all separate,” he remarked, “now, I gotta go, I got one more chaser to turn tonight, he’ll be Number 37! ” he said flipping through his own burner phone. Oh, and there’s this one, he’s really cute, and his ass pic is really tempting, but he’s says he’s on PrEP and I don’t waste my seed if it’s not gonna poz the guy.”

 

He showed me the pic of the 20-year old PrEPPED kid’s hole. My cock, despite having just erupted a big load of viral cum into the twitter twink’s hole, stirred once more.

 

“I got no other candidates today,” I said, “I’ll do him, even if he’s PrEPPED…I like a challenge,” and with that Eric sent me the Francisco’s info and I quickly texted him and made arrangements to breed his PrEPPED-up hole later that night.

 

Eric and I shared a deep kiss in front of our cars, and as we did, he whispered in my ear “Never stop pozzing, my brother!” and I reminded him that soon I was flying to Chicago to get into InstaKyle’s hole and hopefully poz him into the club.

 

“Have a good trip and let me know how it goes,” he said, getting into his car and driving off.

 

I went home and finished packing all the essentials - a new toothbrush, still in its packaging, and a 3oz squeeze bottle of saved cum from the freezer that I saved from some j/o sessions I did. No better lube than cum. Even if by the time I use it on someone, it’s probably inert by then – but I’ve got an endless supply of weaponized HIV loads in my balls ready to be unleashed.

 

After a nap and a quick shower, I was back out of the house to drive over to Silver Lake to breed this hot hole referred by Eric…I was really hoping the kid had forgotten his PrEP a few times in the past week, or maybe if somehow I was viral enough to get past his PrEP defenses…after all, my VL was over 1.7 million at the moment, enough again to puzzle the Idealistic Young Gay Doctor into switching my medications, not knowing I wasn’t gonna take them anyway.

 

I pulled up to the kid’s place and walk through the unlocked door as he said it would be. I found him in the back bedroom ass-up and waiting for me.

 

“Thanks for coming, I really need this,” he said, “and can you do some poz talk while you’re in me?”

 

“You still on PrEP, right?” I asked

 

“Yes, but I crave poz cum,” said the kid. “I know I’m on PrEP, but want your bugged-up load inside me.”

 

“I’m really toxic right now, I might just get my strain past your defenses,” I cautioned, not really believing that but willing to play along.

 

Francisco was a hot little bottom twink, his tan skin glistened fresh from the shower, his ample cock would one day make a great pozzing stick, if he weren’t wasting its potential with PrEP. He taunted me a little with his hot hole with the happy trail of hair down his crack and his mocking of my toxicity against his medicated defenses:

 

“You’ll never get through my PrEP, Mister but you can try. But you aren’t gonna poz me,” he taunted, getting onto the bed and on all fours, “in fact, you’re just gonna neg me with your load.”

 

Challenge accepted, I tongue at his hairy hole a bit which is sweet and smooth inside…I do this for a few minutes and then pull out the toothbrush from my pocket.

 

“You want this in your neg hole? If you’re as neg as you say it won’t make a difference, but this is my standard pozzing ritual.”

 

“LOL, dude, sure go for it, but I won’t convert.”

 

“That’s what he thinks,” I say to myself as I launch the brush into his hole, a generous application of my saved cum and some fresh pre-cum applied to it,  and proceed to turn it back and forth a few times as he moans in pleasure. I take a few extra minutes scratching up his insides with the brush, giving my viral load every chance to penetrate his PrEP.

 

“Man, that feels so good, I didn’t think it would,” but you’re still not pozzing me even with the brush,” this impudent kid tells me.

 

I just take out the now bright-red pozzing brush and replace it with my hard pierced poz cock which I lubed up with my saved loads, all in one fell swoop and all the way down, balls-deep inside his boyhole. I don’t bother waiting for him to acclimate to it, I just start pile-driving it into him.

 

“Yeah, right in there all the way, take that poz tool,” I command him. “I’m gonna break through those defenses and smash your hole into the poz brotherhood.”

 

“No way, man,” he says breathlessly, taking my fuck and pushing back against me, “you can try, dude, keep pounding me, man. Make me wish you were pozzing me right now!”

 

‘Oh, you little fucker, I am pozzing you right now!” I thrust deeply in and out of the kid’s cunt. I know we’re role playing a little here, but only just a little, for if there’s a way in hell to get through the PrEP, my viral load swimming with fresh HIV wants to find it. He wants the poz fuck and poz load, just not to turn poz, well “We’ll see about that, kid,” I tell him.

 

 “Let’s see in two or three weeks if your PrEP worked,” I add, grinding further into him and preparing to blast my strain inside his toothbrushed hole.

 

“Neg hole gonna stay neg,” he laughed, taunting me more.

 

With that, my cock grew even more inside this bratty kid and as it shot off 8 or 9 injections of my high-viral poz seed into him, I pushed it deeper and deeper inside. I know logically it can’t convert him if he’s on PrEP but it was fun to play around with him like it could. I dismount off him and get dressed to go.

 

“That was fun, man,” he smiles up at me…”I know you wanted to poz me,” but I’m not ready for that yet, maybe someday,” he gets up and kisses me and on my way out, I tell him “Let’s see in a few weeks,” as we both laugh – he because he thinks it’ll never happen and me because I think it just might, against the odds, it just might…

 

It’s three weeks later and Travis, the twink that Eric and I tag-teamed and double-fucked, happily sends us both his results: POZ.

 

“Bingo,” I text back to Erik on his burner phone, “we got him! 7 for me and now 36 for you!”

 

“Make that 38 for me, dude!”

 

“Man, you are a pozzing machine!”

 

A week later, I’m checking Francisco’s twitter feed:

 

“Feel like crap today, called in sick to work, hope it’s not COVID”

 

“Went to Urgent Care,” he tweets a few hours later, “Thankfully NOT COVID.”

 

Two days later:

 

“Saw my doctor, his hot nurse Keith got squeezed me in at last minute.”

 

Two days later: “Guess I’m poz now, thanks PrEP! So many emotions right now!”

 

I quickly take a screen grab of the tweet and forward it off to Eric and Keith: “Got another one, that makes 8 confirmed.”

 

“Congrats, brother! Proud Papa to 8 poz sons, the feeling gets better and better!” Eric messages back.

 

Keith just texts back a pic of his furry stomach and now 2 X’s next to his biotat. He hit 20!

 

I gotta catch up to these guys someday!

 

 

 

 

 

[PozTalkAuthor]

oh fuck! The virus of this guy resisting PrEP... It's similar to the virus character I'm slowly creating for next story, HIV-R3 -Resistant, Resilient, Radioactive-.  ☣️🦠☢️

[Vancrawman]

44 minutes ago, PozTalkAuthor said:

oh fuck! The virus of this guy resisting PrEP... It's similar to the virus character I'm slowly creating for next story, HIV-R3 -Resistant, Resilient, Radioactive-.  ☣️🦠☢️

great minds think alike...

[PozTalkAuthor]

52 minutes ago, Vancrawman said:

great minds think alike...

I doubt in reality this could happen anyways. 

Now I wait for the next! 

[Vancrawman]

56 minutes ago, PozTalkAuthor said:

I doubt in reality this could happen anyways. 

Now I wait for the next! 

Yes…Fantasy and fiction of course….but we can always wonder..

[Vancrawman]

**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 VIII: Airport Code POZ

 

“Come through, Sir,” the TSA agent said, bored out of her mind, waving me through the machine. Her name badge read “Sylvia.”

 

It was 6:30am, I was still not fully awake after a late night of pozfucking my latest conquest, a 40-something Daddy type, with a furry Dadbod and an admirable goal of pozzing up to join the brotherhood. Harry had just gotten out of a bad relationship and was ready to sow his oats, and he wanted them toxic to gift around to others. Reaching out to me on twitter DMs, we quickly arranged a meeting. I had only the one available night since I was flying to Chicago in the morning. I put on my fat metal cockring which I had specially engraved with “POZ” in capital letters, I was wearing my biohazard T-shirt,  and to add to the look, I had some biohazard dogtags on a chain that I was now sporting regularly.

 

I met Harry at his hotel; he had flown in from Phoenix for my strain – always such an honor to infect chasers, especially those that travel to get what you’ve got, I was happy to help him out. By the time I left his hotel, after toothbrushing his hot furry hole twice and depositing two loads of my HIVenom into him, I was confident – certain, actually, that in a few weeks, Dad Harry would be in the midst of the beautiful fuck flu and I’d have pozzed my 9th willing chaser, the only thing left was to get the inevitable text message in a month or so on my pozphone from him, my latest victim.

 

Harry was intent on pozzing up and spreading it around. He told me his ex was trying to get back into his life but he wasn’t gonna let that happen.

 

“My ex was so toxic!,” he remarked, not meaning “viral,” but an obnoxious personality, he explained.

 

“Well, in a few weeks, you can make him doubly toxic if you wanted to!” I laughed.

 

I think he was considering the idea as I kissed him goodbye and left his hotel room.

 

After I had done the deed, I collapsed into my bed back at home, and only slept for about 4 hours – when I woke, I saw that I hadn’t even taken off my T-shirt, or the necklace with the POZ dogtags (another new pozmerch purchase). I hurriedly dressed, unthinkingly adding the metal POZ cockring (which had become part of my daily uniform) and made my way to the airport – LAX has some amenities like an airport shower that I would have to take advantage of. If I could clean up there and then sleep on the plane, I would be refreshed for the task ahead.

 

But now, as Agent Sylvia waved me through the security machine, I realized I was wearing some metal on my person, my 0g PA piercing, the Scorpion belt buckle that Eric and Keith got for me last week, the metal cockring and chain with dogtags, the last two emblazoned with the word “POZ” on them – I briefly panicked a bit inside – and then, I said to myself “Fuck it,” and strolled through.

 

The machine, of course, buzzed and beeped and lights blinked on and off.

 

‘Off to the side, sir” she responded, as she got the hand-held scanner and waved it up and down in front of me. It got to the lower part of me and beeped loudly.

 

“Male agent needed for extra security search,” she intoned into her walkie-talkie. “Stand over here, Sir,” she said pointing to the side.

 

“Just one moment for a male agent, Sir,” it won’t be long. “Oh, here he comes now…”

 

Around the corner of the security area, walked in a hot, built black man in a tight uniform. He approached me and I could see his name tag: “Reggie.”

 

Sizing me up, I thought that just for a second, Reggie’s eyes stopped for an extra second or two at my T-shirt with the biohazard imprinted on it. “Follow me over here, sir,” he motioned to a cordoned-off area behind several screens.

 

Once again, the hand-held scanner was waved in front of me. Reggie brushed it up against me, unlike his female co-worker, and he stopped at the groin area, “What have you got here, Sir?” he mused, “show me please, you’ll have to drop your pants.”

 

Unbuckling the scorpion buckle, I dropped my jeans and underwear and was full POZ monty right there at LAX, even for it being a screened-off area, it still felt weird but strangely liberating. My biotat displayed proudly for him to view as I lifted up my T-shirt to show it off.

 

“Oh, I see,” was his only response, “you can pull up your trousers now, but come with me, Sir, I need to look a bit closer.”

 

With that he led me to a small private room with a long rectangular window in the door. As I entered the room and turned around, I saw him lowering the blinds on the window.

 

“We need some privacy, here, Sir, don’t you think?”, clicking the lock on the door. He moved forward and cupped my crotch, “Is that really loaded with toxic cum?” he said pointing down at it.

 

“Yep,” I said proudly. Becoming poz and gifting at will had emboldened me and I no longer cared who knew or what anyone thought about it. Reggie certainly seemed to approve as he sank to his knees and took my growing poz pierced weapon in his mouth.

 

“Airport benefit – we get to play with any twisted fucker we see coming through. And when I saw the biotat and the POZ cockring, I knew I needed that strain.”

 

“You neg,?” I asked, hopefully wishing to add poz son to my list.

 

“Yep, neg and no PrEP…been trying to join the club for over a year now, but no luck,” he said, dropping his pants to reveal a fat black cock oozing neg precum.

 

‘I can turn that precum into poz cum with just one fuck, Reggie, if you want me to.”

 

“Please, Sir, give me that toxic load,” he begged, and just backed up on my cock. Sometime in this brief interaction in this room, he had lubed his hole – it felt smooth and silky and I began driving my pozrod into this stud’s hole.

 

“You gonna share this gift, you sick fucker, once I blow my strain into you? I was getting close…despite very little sleep and blowing two infectious loads into Harry only a few hours ago, my high-viral balls were brewing up a fresh batch of poison for Reggie’s sweet hole.

 

“Yes, Sir! The whole point of going poz is to spread it around,” he breathlessly exclaimed.

 

With that, I erupted my virus into the TSA agent, shuddering and pulsing eight or nine shots of HIV straight into him…Reggie was beating his cock furiously and right after my toxic injections had abated, his cock unleashed a three-foot arc of neg cum across the room.

 

“Yeah, that’s the last neg load you’ll ever shoot, man!” I proudly proclaimed, sure in my perfect conversion rate and that my Number 10 son was just created, ready to spread and share and gift the willing and the oblivious alike into the poz brotherhood.

 

We disentangled from each other, and he kindly cleaned off my cock with his mouth, and then we dressed and he led me out of the room, past the security area.

 

“You do this often with people traveling through?” I asked Reggie.

 

“Oh yeah, we pick the ones we want for special screening,” he laughed. Just before us, Sylvia got her pussy fucked by a Swedish tourist in that same room we were just in – Airport Privileges!”

 

“This one is good,” he remarked to Sylvia, the woman who had scanned me initially. She shot him a conspiratorial look and sly smile.

 

“You’re free to proceed, Sir, and thank you,” he whispered. I passed him my burner phone number I quickly wrote on an extra luggage tag.

 

I whispered to Reggie “When you get the fuck flu, let me know.” Son #10 was in the books. My first X was now just awaiting official confirmation from Harry and now Reggie!

 

I grabbed my bag and never turned back, an incredible feeling of pride and accomplishment washed over me as I headed for the spa/shower area, still with plenty of time to make my flight.

 

 

[austin_submale]

Nice new chapter!

 

[leatherpunk16]

What, no joke about concealing a dangerous weapon on an aircraft? 

[ScottH]

love this story it is so inspirational. I can't wait to get pozzed and join the TEN!

[gingerdaddyG]

So hot - rock hard again! 🍆

[LoadHunter612]

17 hours ago, Vancrawman said:

I erupted my virus into the TSA agent

guess i need a career change now- looking up TSA job openings 🙂