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A Midwestern Bugchaser’s Diaries


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First and foremost, I thank you all for coming here. Please keep in mind that during a previous post I halted content production as I focused on my own journey. This journey is a fictitious parallel. Check back now and again, I anticipate this being a long series.

-DonnyJames

A New Beginning - AMBD Chapter 1

Life was pretty good until the pandemic hit. It was unfortunate that the cost of the pandemic hit me as hard as it did. Dragged down by disaster after disaster, I was destroyed emotionally. It seemed as if every day came at the cost of more debt, more bills, less energy, and less will. I speak of will as if it is some kind of magical essence, knowing that losing the will to continue fighting is hard. It can destroy a man. What I can say is that when faced with destruction and despair, occasionally, just every so often, fighting back with corruption and devastation is the strongest defense. Faced with bankruptcy, homelessness, and absolute self actualized destruction, a certain… twitch came across me. A deep itch yearning to corrupt myself further. To take on the darkness and live hand-in-hand with the compassions of light, and the treachery of darkness. To walk the lone path, and pursue the poz status. 
 

Weeks go by, with little to no interest in sex. Depression sets in further. Suicidal thoughts crossed my mind, but yet, the excitement and burn of being poz and alive would constantly reignite my passions as I fantasized about the bug infiltrating my veins. Taking root in my system, churning in my blood. The silent venom hijacking my mind, the danger of my sex. I know these feelings bring out my sexual side again. I have learned to embrace that my poz tendencies have turned me into a new man. I cannot get off without thinking of being poz anymore. For in this case, the bug has already won me. Detectable, or not. I knew in this moment I was destined for it. It wasn’t an if, it was a when. I’ve set out to work right away. 
 

(This first story exists in another thread on this site, but is not allowed here. This is a sum-up) 


The first time I took a poz load was fucking hot. It was actually 4 poz loads, in fact. This hairy bear laying on the bed gestured me over to him. His massive cock curved up sharply, and a gigantic double zero gauge Prince Albert stuck out of it. I moved over to the bed where he was, and hopped over him. Straddling his body, I lowered my puckered ass hole to his cock. Gently, fiddling with his cock ring around my hole, I slid up and down on the head of his dick. My hole kissed his cock, in and out, making sweet love to his large member. 4 loads later and the night was over. 
 

It was probably about  two weeks ago that I realized being poz was something I somewhat am already. I’ve had sex with several poz guys, and I don’t fuck negative boys. It seems like I have already succumbed to the virus. I met a wasted poz guy a few days ago. His saggy, empty skin would slap against my ass as he fucked me. Raw dogging my ass, I could see this man had never been happier. His first breeding ever as a top, and he chose me for the load. He chose ME to carry his legacy. However, I am just so tired, I must finish this another time. 
 

Goodnight Diary,  

Don’t let my sex bugs bite. 
 

 

We are up to speed on this diary. Going forward will be much more detailed content, starting here in a day or two. Please check back and scroll for where the real story begins on this thread. 

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Dear Diary,

I just can’t stop thinking about him. His skin hung loose from his body, but his cock was full and plump. Rock hard, dripping strings of precum. Each drop of precum that touched my tongue was like a spicy fizzle, his aroma was deep and manly. The hard part wasn’t fucking each other senseless, the hard part was finding a time to do it when people weren’t around. It seemed to me I’d have more anxiety towards this behavior. But it’s like my hole opens and puckers at the gesture of a poz man thrusting into me. Like it’s the only cock that can satisfy me now. Riding his cock was like heaven and hell had collided. A soliloquy of darkness and light, and a battle for the darkness to spread within me. To take on his seed and become one with him, oh man. I can’t take it. But I do anyways. I accept his every thrust like it’s my last. My bed banging against the wall, each dog in the house howling as this poz fucker tears into me. As he takes over me. As I let him convert me. I’ll never forget how his cock twitched inside me, the ooze flowing up his cock deeper inside me, and spurting out. I remember the look on his face when I flipped him over and pushed my cock inside him. The ecstasy, the lust, and the pleasure. It was the ultimate sin, taking a unicorns blood was considered unforgivable. Just, this time, I’m hoping it’s my last time giving unicorn juice. For next time, I pray, that it be scorpion venom leaking out of me, spicy with a sizzle. 
 

until next time, 

diary. 

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  • 4 weeks later...

Dear Diary,

I never really imagined my life would turn out this way. I’ve always been the good kid. I never broke the rules. It seems these days I’m breaking more rules than condoms. Taking on HIV, poz or not, requires you to escalate to a new plane of existence. True acceptance. For no man who is poz is any more or less than any other poz man. For the ultimate barrier is broken, and the illusion of distance begins to lessen. From fucking for emotional attachment, to fucking for sport. I don’t really care anymore, I take anyone’s dick if I want it. It’s opened a new world, for at once I’ve been solidified to one incredibly powerful remedy. Each time that I spread my legs for a man, I spread my soul too. A soul that has light, but corrupted and tainted edges. My hunger for devastation and corruption continues to increase, and my sexual nature has evolved. It’s become a transactional business ledger. One load in, 2 loads out. 4 loads in, 2 loads out. 12 loads in 5 loads out. Big dicks that have destroyed my hole, leaving a gaping bloody mess, to little dicks that are en honest embarrassment to society. I spread my legs for every man, and every man should feel entitled to my body. I plan to share my legacy, don’t worry. But for now, I’m day dreaming about the day I receive that first phone call from a very concerned individual. 
 

Until Later,

Donny James. 

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Dear Diary,

They always tell you it will get better. Seems like it’s all anyone has to say. That as my life marches on towards death, slowly, it gets better. But why is it every time I take a poz load I feel so alive. I was hooking up with a guy, and he sat on my cock. But as soon as I started jerking him and thrusting, he blew his load. Honestly it was pretty embarrassing. I left; but he had given me some kind of pill to last longer in bed, and I felt it man. That shit hits like bricks. I was so fucking hit by I found the only man I could in Grindr who was online and nearby. Turns out, sure as fuck. He’s poz and off his meds by chance. You see, he hadn’t been on meds for a year. When he lost his job he stopped taking his meds because he couldn’t afford it. Lo and behold, me. The Bugchaser of his dreams. So willing and eager to let this man in between my own legs. To allow him to bend me over for him. His raw dominance alone was seductive and powerful. When I spread my legs for him, I felt completely intoxicated in him. Like the dark energy that fuels my bug chasing is the same as his for gift giving. The way we melded was intense and rich. He had placed his cock up against my hole. Using my hole, I kissed his cock, puckering up against his thick girth. It was like a french kiss within seconds as he precum wetted my hole, inviting him inside me. Yet again, an ultimate sin - as I sold this boy a part of myself. Poz or not, I fall in line under him forever. When he slid inside me, I felt the lining of my rectum split as extreme pain jolted through my body. My nails gripped into his back, and immediately he began to pump his cock in and out of my wrecked hole. Each thrust got better and better, and my hole progressively got wetter. Within a few minutes he blew his load all over in my hole. Moaning and screaming as he loaded me up, I sat and watched a man take pleasure inside me. I made someone truly happy today. How can I deny that bugchasing isn’t a calling for me when I’m so willing to do it. Poz men experience tons of stigma, who knows though. I may have to judge some people into understanding it a little more. 
 

for now,

Donny

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