The night Brock got pozzed

[norubbers]

Brock's heart was racing. He hadn't even gotten out of the car and he could feel his pulse in his temples.

Brock was just starting his senior year of high school and the closest he had gotten to sex was mutual masturbation with friends during their much more curious years. Before it got weird. Those days were long past.

He had chatted with countless guys online about the 'Block. On websites he hadn't technically been old enough to access. But hey, thats growing up gay in small town America. What else was there to do? None of that mattered now, though. It was his 18th birthday and here he was in the parking lot of this local legend.

Brock's dick stirred in his jeans a bit. It was now or never, and he knew it. He pulled a ball cap on and headed for the door. There were a couple other cars in the parking lot, he noted. He opened the door - no window, which struck him as odd - and stepped in.

The place was seedy on a level Brock could not have imagined. The locals in the chat rooms did not do this place justice. The floor was sticky and the air smelled like an ashtray filled with cum. The entire space was poorly lit. The walls were lined with case displays full of DVDs and VHS tapes. Most of the displays were sticky, too. The center section of the store was cramped with shelves packed full of magazines and small books of erotica. There was a small section of Polaroids lined up in a box like trading cards as well as packets of pictures like you get when you develop film. The products only filled half of the overall space. The other section looked empty as far as Brock could tell.

The single register was manned by a guy who had to be in his 60s. Bald on top with some coarse white hair left on the back and sides. He sported an unkempt beard. He was dressed in tattered camo pants and a beat up leather vest. No shirt. His entire torso was a canvas of tattoos of wildly differing quality. He was smoking a cigarette inside despite the city wide ordinance prohibiting smoking indoors. Brock's dick stirred again.

The cashier gave Brock a glance over. Brock had been able to buy his mom's cigarettes without getting carded since he was 15. He'd always been big for his age, but his last growth spurt had put him just over 6'6" tall and switching out of general PE into the athletic conditioning class had put about 215 pounds of muscle on that frame. Coupled with his beard, which had stopped being patchy last year and now looked really good if he kept it trimmed, everyone assumed he was older than he was. The cashier included, evidently, because he turned his attention back to a small TV on the counter as Brock was reaching for his wallet to pull out his license.

Brock quickly found a display of DVDs to pretend he was perusing. He noted that besides himself and the cashier, the place was empty. He again noted that his pulse was racing.

He began to legitimately browse the shelves, hoping the distraction would calm him down. Brock had a fair amount of exposure to porn at this point - again, what else was a gay boy supposed to do in the midwest - but he noted he had never heard of any of the studios or performers he saw on the cases. In fact, one display very near the register was full of cases that just had plain paper inserts with things like "010120 'Chuck' 48" written in sharpie.

Brock scanned the case. "082805 'Carl' 62," he read. He heard the bell on the door chime and nearly jumped out of his skin. He very unsubtly turned to see who was walking in through that windowless door.

The man walking in was a little shorter than average and overweight. Probably in his early 50s. He had beady, dark eyes and stringy brown hair. If the cashier looked unkempt, this man looked disheveled. Stained gray sweatpants and an A shirt that probably was white at some point. The man didn't even acknowledge Brock on his way to the counter. He threw a pack of cigarettes at the cashier, who disinterestedly put a stack of coins on the counter.

The man quickly snatched up the coins and shuffled off past the desk to the empty section of the store. Brock stared after him just a little too long.

"There's preview booths in the back if you see something you want to try before you buy," he said.

Brock jumped again. "Uh...thanks," he stammered. The cashier went back to his little TV. Brock could feel himself losing his nerve as his pulse crept up again and his breathing became irregular. He felt like he might throw up or pass out. Probably both. He spotted a hallway lit by a single orange bulb in the back area and took off that direction, hoping it led to the bathroom.

As Brock drew closer to the hallway, his nerves settled a bit. Which was good because the hallway wasn't really a hallway. It was an exit to the outside that appeared to be welded shut and a staircase, presumably to a basement. Brock realized that his 18 year old dick was rock hard in the wake of everything he had seen so far. It struck him as odd that this area would just be left open and the cashier wasn't making any effort to stop him, so he started down into the dark of the basement.

Edited June 27, 2023 by norubbers

[aussieamylpig]

amazing start, reminds me of so many places I started out in

[Nypiss31]

Nice 

[shinelover]

Very good start. I can't wait until the really gets going 😜

[austin_submale]

Looking forward to seeing what happens!

[Tanbbottom]

Well written. You have me engaged and keen to hear what happens next. Love how you capture Brock's emotions. 

[norubbers]

Brock stepped off the last concrete step into a short, narrow hallway. In the room beyond, he could see there were mismatched sofas ranging from floral paisley that looked like it had been lifted directly out of his grandmother's family room to a broken down leather La-Z-Boy that appeared to have lived a short, hard life in a frat house.

Brock crept to the door and surveyed the very dim room in front of him. There were 10 sofas in total facing one of the unfinished concrete walls like theater seating. That appeared to be the goal, as there was a porno flick playing on the unfinished wall from a beat up projector. That was the only source of light in the room.

Four men were scattered amongst the sofas. A mid 40s, average build business man in a Grey suit sat on the paisley sofa nearest the door with a very obvious erection under his suit pants, idly rubbing himself through the fabric. A muscular guy in designer label clothes sat in the far back corner, an obscene bulge quite evident in his joggers but he didn't seem to be giving much attention to it or the flick. A slight, nebbish man who wore a plaid button up and khakis sat transfixed on the film, the film reflecting off his glasses contrasting with how still he sat.

The last guy was dressed much like Brock. He was seated in the front row, so Brock couldn't tell much about him other than he wore a ball cap, a plain shirt, and jeans. Of the four on the sofas, he was the only one who appeared to notice Brock, turning his head slightly toward the door.

The porno on the wall appeared to be something very low budget. In fact, it looked like a home movie that had been recorded on a Handycam or something. The timestamp in the corner read 07/03/2005, which was two months ago, and the title was "Zeke." A younger guy - probably in his early 20s - with long blond hair was sitting in his boxers on a cheap metal futon being interviewed by someone out of frame. "So what brought you here tonight, Zeke?" The guy out of frame asked. Brock turned his attention away as Zeke was starting to answer.

Behind the sofas, the projector sat on top of a half wall. A fifth guy stood behind the wall. His pants and briefs were around his ankles and he was stroking himself hard. He was a stocky guy and from the look of his stiffer-by-the-second dick, he had a short, beer can thick dick. Brock was a bit taken aback that someone was just openly jerking off, but he was immediately reminded how horny he was as his teenage dick strained against the tight denim of his jeans. The man saw Brock, then he used some spit to slick his cock up a little and continued wanking while staring openly at Brock for a few seconds before turning back to the film.

Set into the walls on the left half of the room were four small alcoves. Small amounts of light from the central room barely made it into them and they were pitch black otherwise. Still more curious than anything, Brock started toward the nearest.

Inside, there was another guy jerking off. He had tied twine around his dick and scrotum in some kind of home made Oxballs style cockring. His average sized dick was engorged and purple under the constraint of his knot work. He idly played with his dick, leaking some precum which he was enthusiastically licking from his fingers. He nodded to Brock, which may have been an invitation.

Brock was oblivious, though, as he continued to the next alcove. Inside, he found a very roughly constructed plywood "table" at about the right height for fucking. An orange light bulb cast an eerie glow on the table. No one was in that alcove currently.

The last two alcoves were two entrances into the same small, dark room. Inside were two construction workers. They still wore their vests. Each of them had his pants undone and around his thighs. Both appeared to have above average dicks. Kneeling in front of them was a man who had to be in his 60s. He wore nothing but a jockstrap. He was alternating sucking each of the dicks in front of him.

"I'm gonna cum," one of the construction guys announced casually. The older man took his dick all the way down his throat and swallowed every drop of the man's seven inch uncut dick before turning his attention to the other dick. The guy who'd cum stuffed his dick back in his pants, buttoned up, and walked out of the alcove past Brock.

Brock turned back to the film. Zeke had been joined on camera by a second man, Dale. The new guy was middle age. Dark hair and eyes. A bit taller than Zeke, but Zeke didn't look particularly tall. Dale looked like the "best friend's hot dad" in every teen sex comedy movie. Neatly trimmed beard, just a little bit of gray starting to come through, obviously knew his way around the gym. USDA Grade A Certified DILF.

Zeke was now standing naked with his hands clasped in front of his groin. He looked a bit more uncomfortable now. Dale was walking around him groping him and pointing out tattoos and other details about him. Everywhere he would touch, the cameraman would get a closeup.

"Alright, now we need some closeups of your dick and your ass, and then we can start the next part of the interview," Dale said as casually as if he were asking him to make some copies or fetch a coffee. Zeke seemed reluctant, but he eventually unclasped his hands. He had a decent size dick, even totally soft.

"Oh yeah, this is going to work great, Zeke," Dale said enthusiastically. He unbuckled his pants and pulled out his semi-hard dick. Commando.

Brock had watched a lot of porn. I mean, A LOT of porn. But he had rarely seen anything this...rough. There was no editing to speak of, just one continuous shot from the single camcorder. Everything about it felt so amateur and real.

Brock's dick pulsed it's approval. Dale had one of the largest dicks Brock had ever seen. "Might be as big as mine," he thought. The only word he could think of to describe it was "photogenic." Thick with a couple prominent veins. Large head, but proportionate with the rest of the shaft.

"Show me what you can do," Dale said, gesturing to his cock. Zeke got down on his knees and took the head of the man's dick in his mouth.

Brock found his way over to an empty couch in the back and his left hand went straight for the steel pipe in his own jeans. He realized he hadn't touched his own dick since he'd gotten here. Even through his jeans he felt like he could explode instantly.

In the flick, Dale was groaning as Zeke worked his head and the first bit of the shaft. He placed his hand on the back of Zeke's head and was less than gently coaxing Zeke further down his shaft. Zeke seemed to be much more comfortable with Dale's meaty head against his tonsils than the had been minutes ago.

Zeke was also quite talented from the look of it. Before long, Dale's entire dick was sliding effortlessly in and out of his throat, skullfucking Zeke.

A mixture of fluids dripped off Zeke's face as he accepted the massive length and girth of Dale's dick into his throat. A hunger burned behind his eyes. "Please fuck me, sir," Zeke coughed out during a quick break when Dale had pulled completely out to show the camera his dick layed across Zeke's face.

"You sure you're ready, kid?" Dale chided. Zeke responded by scooping up a handful of the fluids still on his face and smearing between his cheeks. Then he laid back on the futon and presented his hole to Dale.

Dale took off his shirt. Between his navel and his pelvis, on his muscular lower abdominals, he had a single tattoo: an orange scorpion. It wasn't a complicated tattoo, but it was exquisitely done. On screen, Zeke asked if the tattoo meant what he thought it meant. Dale didn't answer, he just shucked his pants and began smearing precum on Zeke's waiting hole directly from the head of his massive dick.

"Does that mean what I think it means!?!" Zeke said more urgently this time. He looked genuinely terrified. He began to squirm, but Dale had him in a bad position and 40 extra pounds of leverage.

Brock found himself confused, but undeniably aroused by the scene on the screen. Why had Zeke been so terrified of a tattoo? What did the tattoo mean?

"This is gonna hurt," Dale said as he plunged his massive member into Zeke's hole. He had slicked Zeke's hole and his own cock with a generous amount of precum, but even that was not enough to prepare Zeke.

Zeke screamed. He writhed. The pain was evident in every fiber of Zeke's body. Dale was clearly enjoying it, but he held back for the benefit kd the camera. The cameraman got a close up of Dale's cock impaling Zeke's hole. You could see Zeke's hole spasm, trying desperately to eject the sudden intrusion. Dale didn't move much until Zeke had calmed down a bit.

As Zeke's hole adjusted, Dale began short, slow strokes in his hole. "Yes, the scorpion tattoo means what you think it means," he said matter of factly. "You told me you were serious about becoming a member," he added.

"The club...," Zeke sputtered. "I wanted to join the fuck club, not get POZZED!"

"They are one and the same," Dale replied. "Trust me, the benefits are worth it."

The pleasure of the fuck was beginning to set in for Zeke. His cries and sharp breathing were quickly turning into moans and panting for more. Dale pulled his dick out of Zeke. The coating of juices on his dick had streaks of red through it.

He flipped Zeke over face down on the futon. He plunged his cock back into Zeke's battered hole with the full weight of his muscular body behind it. Zeke was rocking his hips on every thrust to let more of Dale penetrate him.

Dale shoved Zeke's head into the mattress of the futon as he slammed his dick into Zeke's puffy hole. The cameraman got a closeup of Zeke's angry red pucker as Dale hammered his length into him.

The camera panned back out to a wider shot and Dale wrapped his muscular arm around Zeke's neck. "I'm going to poz you up, kid. And then sex will never be complicated again. You want fucked. You take cum. Someone wants to fuck you. You take cum." Dale said, mere centimeters from Zeke's ear.

Dale slowed down his strokes. "Do you want it, Zeke? Do you want to fuck freely? Do you want more sex than you can possibly imagine?"

"I want it," Zeke mumbled.

"Say it like you mean it, kid." Dale had pulled Zeke up against his chest by his hair, his dick still dripping red tinged fluids. It was poised just outside the wreckage that used to be a sphincter, looking very much like a stinger ready to inject a lethal dose of venom.

"I WANT IT! I WANT YOU TO POZ ME" Zeke shouted. Dale threw him back down on the bed, inserted his dick firmly into Zeke's hole, and, as if on cue, began emptying his toxic payload into Zeke's guts.

The camera captured every flex and spasm of Dale's dick. In agonizing detail. Every spurt of cum was clear as Dale's venom painted the inside of Zeke's guts.

"Welcome to the nest, initiate." Dale said as he pulled out and disappeared out of frame. Zeke stayed face down on the futon as the camera got some closeups of his ruined hole. The cameraman's arm appeared from out of frame and threw a business card onto Zeke's back. It was black with a scorpion embossed in an amber orange color on the side facing the camera. "Instructions." The cameraman said and then the camera was put down on a tripod or something, still recording Zeke.

Zeke sat back down on the futon. For the second time, Brock noticed Zeke's cock, but now it was rock hard. It was fairly long. Probably around 7 inches. And average thickness. Zeke slicked his hand with some of the juices seeping out of his hole and jerked himself off without ceremony.

Zeke was dressing himself on screen when suddenly Brock felt a hand grab his shoulder. He yelped and sprang up from the couch. He whipped around to see the cashier from upstairs with a stern look on his face. "This area is for members only," he droned, grabbing Brock's shoulder again and pushing him toward the door to the stairs.

"I...uh...I was looking for. Uh. Bathroom? I thought the bathroom was down here." As the older man escorted him to the stairs, he stopped to take the disc out of the player hooked up to the projector and put a new one in. He put the disc in one of those plain sleeve cases labeled "070305 'Zeke' 22."

[Mvillebottom]

Very hot writing hope to read more soon!

[negchaserlooking]

Fuck yeah

[gingerdaddyG]

I hope Brock becomes a member soon…😈💦☣️

[negbtm]

Fuuck I need to be a member!

[RawSubDad]

One load already, very nearly two. I love it so far and hope you have more for us. 

[501andboots]

Cannot wait to see what happens to Brock

[norubbers]

As Brock was herded back up the stairs by the cashier, he noticed the cold of the wet patch covering most of his left thigh from where his own copious precum had saturated his jeans.

At the top of the stairs, Brock expected to be taken back to the register, or maybe worst case he'd be kicked out, so he was surprised when he was escorted to a room in the back. 

It appeared to be an office of some kind. The beat up desk took up most of the room. A heavy black curtain covered the wall behind the desk. On the wall opposite the curtain was the only thing that looked like it was bought this decade: a massive flat screen TV that looked brand new. 

"Have a seat." The cashier commanded.

Brock immediately dropped into one of the mismatched chairs. "Look, I'll leave. I didn't know I wasn't supposed to go down there. It's my first time...," he blabbered. He was nervous. Who could blame him.

From somewhere nearby, Brock heard a creak like a door hinge and the shuffling of feet. 

"Fuck! Stay here." The man barked and quickly exited the room. As soon as he was out of the door, Brock shot up out of his chair and started pacing around the room.

He assessed his situation quickly and decided to make a break for it and get out of there. As he passed the desk, he saw the remote to the TV and another DVD case. The paper insert read "090305 'Zeke' 22," this time in blue sharpie.

Brock stopped in his tracks as though he'd run into a brick wall of curiosity. Mixed with libido. He was still mostly hard despite the terror of the ordeal. And Zeke and Dale were fucking hot. Any chance to see more of them, he would take.

He listened very intently to see if the cashier was coming back. He heard only silence. Before he thought more about it, he snatched up the remote, turned the TV on and hit play.

The timestamp in the corner was 09/03/2005. Yesterday. Brock understood the first numbers on the handwritten cases.

The room on screen was the same as the film dowstairs but the futon was nowhere to be seen. Brock recognized both people on screen. 

On what looked like a medical exam table was Zeke, once again in his boxers. He still looked like a surfer twink just as before. But he looked a bit worse for the wear. His eyes were a bit sunken and he looked like he had lost a bit of muscle tone.

The second was not Dale. It was the man who had just left the room. The store's cashier was finishing setting up equipment next to the table. He pulled on latex gloves

Brock recognized Dale's voice when he spoke from behind the camera, "Welcome back, Zeke. How was the rest of your summer."

"It was fine," Zeke responded neutrally, "went home for a bit. Moved into an apartment for my senior year since I just have my big professional development class. Don't need the distraction of the dorms."

"And how are you feeling," Dale asked, emphasizing the last word.

"I'm poz, if that's what you're asking," Zeke responded coolly. "Was a three day ordeal from hell, but I knew to expect it at least. Told my parents it must have been an out of season flu."

"Are you ready for the next phase of initiation?"

"...yeah," Zeke sounded weary, but also excited. Like he had been a roulette wheel of feelings about this moment for two months and had landed on acceptance

"Excellent. Two questions before we begin First have you, to your knowledge, received the HIV virus from anyone other than me prior to or since your initiation?

Zeke shook his head. "I need a verbal answer," Dale chided. "No." Zeke responded definitively.

"Second, did you start antiretroviral therapy?"

"Of course I did. I'm undetectable." Zeke replied.

"Green." Dale said, though this was directed at the cashier, who turned back to the equiment.

"You are about to be branded as a member of the Scorpion Society. It is an international brotherhood of poz men. You will find a nest of us in every major city in the world and many rural communities. Like this one."

It sounded like Dale had given this speech many times.

"Each nest is headed by a Jarl, that's me, who holds the original strain of that nest. Each Jarl may have up to two Thanes of his choosing. The Thanes are hand selected and convertedd personally by the Jarl to ensure their strain is as pure as possible. Jarls and Thanes are identified by their orange scorpion tattoos."

Brock realized he was rubbing his dick through his jeans again. HIV had been a footnote in his "abstinence only" sex education curriculum. He had never even considered it as something he might encounter in his life. He had definitely never considered there were people who were so open and clinical about it. Who spread it intentionally. The thought of it was triggering some side of him he had absolutely no control over.

"Thanes are not allowed to be on ART. If a Thane starts ART, he loses status and joins the citizenry and a new one will take his place. Citizens bear green scorpion tattoos."

The cashier showed Zeke his forearm, which had a scorpion tattoo identical to Dale's, but in a dark green. "Tell Walt where you want your tattoo and he will get started." Zeke gestured to the right side of his torso. Walt set to work. Dale continued:

"Citizens can partake in all membership benefits and have open access to all member facilities. Your only obligation as a citizen is to the Jarls and Thanes. You are to submit your hole to them at their command. Immediately and without question. In the event you go off ART and infect someone, they are not considered citizens of this society and they will be excluded from citizenship due to their tainted strain. Benefits of citizenship transfer to other nests, should you travel or move Do you understand these guidelines?"

"I understand." Zeke said with finality. Brock was transfixed by what he was seeing and hearing. At some point, he had unbuttoned his jeans and taken them and his boxer briefs down to his thighs. His hand was wrapped around his uncut dick, idly stroking his length as his precum ran down the length of his shaft to his hand. He slicked his dick up and still more dribbled onto his underwear and the floor. He had always been an extremely heavy precummer. 

He heard a rustle behind him and an ice cold chill raced down his spine. He fumbled to turn the TV off and quickly turned to see someone stepping out from behind the heavy black curtain.

Edited July 3, 2023 by norubbers

[PozTalkAuthor]

Oh fuck... I'm already horny AF, this has increased it! 

Proud green citizen 🪹🦂