The night Brock got pozzed

[norubbers]

Brock was practically vibrating as 9:00 PM Saturday approached. He had dinner with his mom before she went to bed and made a plan with her to get the rest of his school clothes the next day. Coming off night shifts always wore her out.

He put on the most flattering jock he had and his clingiest jeans. He rooted through his dresser until he found a v-neck shirt from his freshman year. It was at least a size too tight and way too short. His pelt of dark red body hair sprouted generously over the v-neck. If he raised his arms even a little bit, his furry abs and the band of the jock were clearly visible. It was perfect.

----------

Brock arrived at 8:30. Dale, Walt, Rod, and Dr. Shah were all waiting for him when he arrived at the 'Block. They were a Burger King Kids Club of emotions. Dale looked stoic. Dr. Shah was beaming with pride. Walt looked indifferent. Rod was harder to read, but Brock was pretty sure he was ecstatic.

"Are you ready, kiddo?" Uncle Dale asked him.

The irony of how many people in his life called him 'Kiddo' when he stood six inches to a foot taller than them brought a smirk to Brock's face. "Ready for what?"

"My retirement party..." Uncle Dale smiled and a sparkle of mischief lit up his eyes.

Brock's confusion was obvious. Dale chuckled and led the procession of depraved men back to his office. The dark curtain that separated Dale's office from his 'studio' was wide open. The furniture was all missing. In its place was somewhere between 60 and 70 chairs that appeared to be on loan from the convention center. They all faced the far end of the room. A handful had occupants already sat in silence. Dale and Dr. Shah walked up to sit up front. Rod took a seat in the front row. Walt walked Brock over to a pair of chairs in the back on the side of the room

"Wait here. Don't say anything unless Dale asks you a question. If he does, answer succinctly and truthfully."

Brock was a bit taken aback. His first impressions of Walt were not those of a man who would throw the word "succinctly" around. Brock also couldn't help but notice he'd "cleaned up" for the evening. He had shaved his head down completely, trimmed up his gray beard, and wore dark denim and a white t shirt that actually fit him. His tattoos stood out beautifully against the contrast of the white.

Brock did as he was told as more people filed in and the seats began to fill. At 8:00 sharp, Dale stepped up to a rented podium and welcomed everyone. Seemingly for Brock's benefit, he identified the crowd before him as the council of Jarls.

He introduced himself as Jarl of the Midwest Nest. A few people among the crowd cheered. A few shifted uncomfortably in their seats. 

Dale announced his decision to retire and to start ART. Whispers shot through the crowd. He then explained his intent to break with tradition and to name a Jarl as his successor. There were a variety of responses. Outcries of anger. Gasps. Excited murmuring.

Uncle Dale quieted the crowd. "Of course I plan to put it to a vote. But first I want you all to hear from my friend Dr. Shah. He researches viral heredity. And he discovered our little club all on his own."

Dr. Shah stepped up to the podium, the image of professionalism, and spoke about how he had put together the existence of the Scorpion Society in the course of his research of HIV in the local MSM population. He talked about seeking out Uncle Dale to discuss what he found. He had a tremendous amount of respect for Uncle Dale and all of the Jarls for their efforts to preserve genetically pure strains and how much that could help with research and treatment.

Then he moved on to talking about his more recent work: horizontal transmission without mutation. With a transmission recipient of similar enough DNA to the source, he theorized that minimal mutation would occur. Because of HIV's unique qualities, some mutation was virtually guaranteed with every transmission.

Dr. Shah brought up Rod and how he'd be the ideal specimen, since he and Dale were twins. Unfortunately Rod and Dale were pozzed by patient 0 the same night. Genetic offspring would be the next best thing. A son - or in their case a nephew - and it had worked. Dr. Shah showed his tables proving that there was zero mutation between Dale's strain and Brock's.

Dale called Brock to the front. Brock tried to exude confidence as he walked the length of the room. He felt every pair of eyes on him. Some eager. Some curious. Some furious. Dale introduced Brock to the crowd, then turned to face him.

"Brock, we have already established your status and the purity of your strain. If the vote is approved, will you promise to keep your strain pure until it is a threat to your life?"

"I will," Brock's answer seemed to be coming from far away.

"Will you uphold the responsibilities of a Jarl to protect The Society and revel in the debauchery expected of the rank?"

"I will."

"Will you make me proud to have you as my successor?" Dale's eyes twinkled again. Brock got the impression that question wasn't on the script.

"I will."

"Then we put it to a vote!" Uncle Dale declared.

[pupHawaii]

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck .. more please!

[norubbers]

The vote was close. Like, razor close. 47 in favor, 45 opposed. Rod and a man who looked old enough to be Brock's great grandfather were the deciding votes. After the succession was approved, Uncle Dale called Walt up. Walt brought out his tattoo equipment. Brock chose the inside of his left bicep and Walt set to work.

While Walt worked, many of those who had voted against succession left. Those who remained seemed to be eager from the break from official business. Many stripped down to underwear or less and began "socializing." Brock had never seen so many dicks in one room before. It was honestly hot.

After Walt wrapped up the orange scorpion tattoo, Uncle Dale called the room back to their seats. It was customary for every Jarl to poz one last time in celebration of their lifetime of work. Dale, however, had a different plan. He wanted instead to celebrate with Brock's first pozzing. Brock was very okay with this plan. Especially when he realized the only negative hole in the room was Dr. Shah.

The crowd gathered around as Dr. Shah approached Brock, lust in his eyes. Brock peeled himself out of his too-tight v-neck. He grabbed Dr. Shah behind the neck and pulled the doctor's face to his chest. Dr. Shah's wiry black beard mingled with Brock's reddish chest hair as Dr. Shah's tongue lapped at brock's skin.

He made a brief stop at Brock's nipple before continuing on. Brock realized he had never had anyone play with his armpit, but Dr. Shah seemed hell bent on it. Brock raised his arm and without hesitation, Dr. Shah buried his face in the darker hair. He alternated lingual worship with deep inhalation of Brock's natural scent.

Brock trembled a little at the new sensations. His prick was straining against the jock he'd selected for tonight. He twisted his fingers in Dr. Shah's shaggy black hair and pressed him deeper into his musky pit. Dr. Shah eagerly took in all that he could before Brock tugged on his hair, breaking their connection.

"Labas cpeheit ra dar biavar" Brock commanded. He had been practicing for the next time he saw Dr. Shah. Dr. Shah's shock was evident on his face. Even Uncle Dale looked impressed.

Dr. Shah began to peel his clothes off as ordered until he stood in front of Brock in nothing but his white Calvin Klein briefs and his calf-length socks. His coarse black body hair and olive skin contrasted nicely with the white.

Brock unbuckled his belt and began unbuttoning the fly of his jeans. Dr. Shah fell to his knees before the second button was undone and took over. Brock's generous member was crammed in the pouch of his jock, limiting how hard he could get, but that didn't stop Dr. Shah. Like a newborn kitten mouthing blindly for its mom's teat, he tried in vain to get at Brock's cock.

Brock once again twisted his hand in Dr. Shah's hair, but this time he wrenched the man's head away from him firmly. Dr. Shah gulped. Brock pulled the pouch of his jock to the side and his cock immediately swelled to its full size.

Dr. Shah was like a rabid dog trying to get at the haunch of meat between brock's legs. He pulled hard against Brock's grip on his hair, but to no avail. Brock picked up a generous glob of his precum - his confirmed poisonous precum - on his thumb and offered it to Dr. Shah. The nearly naked man devoured it eagerly.

Brock eased his grip just enough that Dr. Shah could inch closer to his hooded prick. Dr. Shah's moans gradually became whimpers the longer he was denied his prize. Brock placed just the tip of his dick on the doctor's tongue and Dr. Shah went feral, lapping every inch of his dick he could reach and swallowing every drop of virus-laced precum.

While the doctor was blissfully sucking whatever parts of Brock's cock he could reach, Brock was gradually forcing his dick further and further in. It wasn't until Brock's member hit the back of Dr. Shah's throat that the doctor realized how much cock he had in his mouth - or how much more there was to go.

Panic set in on Dr. Shah's face as the realization struck him. As soon as Brock saw his demeanor shift, Brock forced the rest of his cock in. Dr. Shah's eyes bulged and watered as he gagged. Still Brock held him there - until all the doctor could do was plead with his eyes for air.

Brock withdrew his cock slowly and as soon as Dr. Shah could he began gulping as much air as possible. He suspected Brock wouldn't give him long to breathe. And he was correct. Brock was already steadily forcing his his member in again, his iron grip on the doctor's hair unflinching.

They repeated this cycle three more times. The last time Dr. Shah thought he was going to pass out before Brock eased his prick out of his throat. Everything Brock did was very slow and deliberate. As the doctor panted, Brock retrieved a chair and turned the back toward him.

"Khodat ra kham kon," Brock commanded and Dr. Shah eagerly bent over the back of the offered chair.

[norubbers]

3 hours ago, pupHawaii said:

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck .. more please!

You binged the entire story in a few hours lol. But yes, more will be coming. I finally have time and the willpower to do some more writing.

[PozTalkAuthor]

I was waiting for your stories to continue, you basically disappeared.

[norubbers]

3 hours ago, PozTalkAuthor said:

I was waiting for your stories to continue, you basically disappeared.

For almost a year exactly, yeah. I had a lot of stuff explode in my personal life and stuff. But I am back for the time being.

[PozTalkAuthor]

11 minutes ago, norubbers said:

For almost a year exactly, yeah. I had a lot of stuff explode in my personal life and stuff. But I am back for the time being.

 

Perfectly aware of what you're talking about, I wanted to finish mine before USA elections but I fear I won't manage to - unless I spend another week-end on my desk and I won't! I am an author I love to write but there are even beloved PEOPLE who need my presence and I neglected them because of work during the whole September and October months.

Everything has priority, a day is 24 hours long, we all must choose!

[PozBearWI]

@norubbers hopefully most like me hold no grudge.  Sad that so many things exploded in your personal life.  Glad that seems to be resolving.  Welcome back brother. 

[norubbers]

Brock ripped Dr. Shah's white Calvin Klein briefs open, exposing his furry hole. Dr. Shah whimpered a bit. Almost on instinct, Brock buried his face in the doctor's ass. He sensed the doctor was ready for this.

Brock buried his tongue as far in Dr. Shah's guts as he could. He found himself prying the doctor's olive cheeks apart and working his fingers in to help his tongue burrow that much deeper.

Dr. Shah had been prepared, like a lamb headed for the alter. He was freshly showered, immaculately groomed, and eager. He seemed to be enthralled by the crowd that was assembling around them to witness Brock sacrifice him to the virus coursing through the veins of every other person in the room - the very virus the doctor had spent his career researching.

When Brock felt the doctor eagerly fucking himself on Brock's tongue, he knew it was time. He straightened himself behind the doctor, slicked his middle finger with a generous film of his precum and probed into the doctor's guts as far as he could. The velvety warmth sang a siren's call to his member. In contrast to the beasts of myth, though, it sang for its own death.

Brock curled his finger as he withdrew it, his fingernail tore into the fragile mucosa. Like Achilles's heel, that wound would be the doctor's downfall. Dr. Shah's sharp gasp suggested he was well aware of it. Both Brock and his virus delighted in the sight of blood under his nail. Brock lined his uncut member up behind Dr. Shah's hole, his venomous slime beginning to seep into the doctor.

Slowly and steadily, Brock slid the first bit of his cock in. For both of them, time stood still. It was clear that Dr. Shah didn't have much experience playing with his own hole. His ring clamped immediately, trying to halt Brock from penetrating him any further with his venom-tipped spear. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a kinder side of Brock felt bad for the doctor. Dr. Shah was the only person Brock had ever met whose girth came close to Brock's own. When the doctor fucked Brock, Brock was shocked at how difficult that girth was to take.

Now the table was turned, and the world renowned, tenured professor and virologist was bent over a chair, with a fresh sample of Brock's virus being injected slowly, directly into him. Prior to meeting his uncle, Brock had no idea that producing the amount of precum and cum that he did was unusual. Now that every bit of it carried a deadly payload, Brock considered it one of his greatest gifts.

Between his precum and the doctor's concentrated effort to relax his hole, Brock felt the way deeper beginning to open - and the monster living in Brock's blood was eager and giddy.

Brock began to work his hips very slowly in a shallow gyration. He was trying his best to imitate the doctor's movement when he'd fucked Brock. With every rotation, the head of Brock's 9" prick drilled further into the doctor's eager guts. 

Brock was vaguely aware of the eyes transfixed on him. More than anything, he was focused on the warmth and pressure of the doctor's rectum gradually accepting more of his monster shaft. This rhythm continued until Brock was a little less than halfway in and Brock felt the wall of Dr. Shah's second hole.

Brock slowly backed his cock out of the doctor's guts. He could see a pink tinge to the precum he'd churned to a froth inside the doctor. Brock's virus let out a cry of victory, knowing it was already infiltrating the doctor's veins. He plunged his cock back into to press on the wall deep within Dr. Shah.

Brock fished an ampule of genuine amyl out of his pocket and crushed it. He inhaled deeply before he wrapped his muscular forearm around the doctor and pulled him up against his chest. The warmth of his dose spread quickly through his body, allowing Brock a moment to lose himself in the cacophony of sensations.

He sensed some resistance in the doctor as he offered the aroma, but it wasn't really an offer and he wasn't taking no for an answer. Brock's hold on the doctor quickly became a restraint for the struggling doctor. The viper between Brock's legs waited patiently, its toxic secretions pooling...patient. finally the doctor gave up and inhaled deeply. The tension in his body crumbled as Brock felt every muscle relax - including his second hole. Brock's cock slithered gleefully in. As he lowered the doctor back over the chair.

Brock faced much less resistance the deeper he pressed into the doctor. In what seemed like no time, Brock felt his own auburn pubes mingling with the doctor's jet black fur. He paused a moment. He savored this welcoming new temporary home. His virus had started measuring for furniture and picking out window treatments - eager to close the deal and move in.

And then Brock began to move his hips again. He was doing his best to emulate the wave-like dance of Dr. Shah's fucking. The sensations of the doctor's hole felt very different from the feelings when he'd fucked Uncle Dale on the tail end of his conversion. Perhaps his imitations were successful. Perhaps he just wasn't as delirious this time.

Brock could feel the pressure building in his testicles. The exuberance of his virus manifesting in the deep longing Brock felt to ejaculate. Like the fussy parent he never had, his virus reminded him that reproducing was the most fundamental purpose of life. He didn't feel like he had much of a rebuttal, but he wanted to enjoy this a bit longer.

Dr. Shah's grunts became more rapid and insistant by the moment, which only encouraged Brock. Little by little, the smooth motion he'd been using broke down, giving way to harder and more forceful thrusts. The slap of his skin on the doctor's rang out over the crowd. He kept a very even, deliberate pace. Brock could feel his ability to restrain his orgasm slipping.

Brock pulled out completely. "Tell me what you want," he growled, barely audible to the assembled crowd.

"I want you to breed me," Dr. Shah whispered in response.

"Tell me what the fuck you want," Brock demanded, he placed his dripping stinger just inside the doctor's puffy, inflamed hole.

"I want in! I want to join you!" The doctor shouted in response.

"Chi mikhāhi," Brock shouted!

"Mikonam POZ!" The doctor pleaded. Brock sank himself to the root and released the built up flood of his DNA. Ropes of Brock's semen threaded with millions of copies of his virus coated the depths of Dr. Shah's guts. Dr. Shah's entire body went tense with the realization of what had just happened. Brock once again pulled him against his furry, muscular chest. This time in more of an embrace than a restraint.

Brock held Dr. Shah for what felt like an eternity. Gradually, the tension eased as the doctor melted into Brock's strength. Brock began to gently nuzzle the doctor's neck and the doctor gradually regained himself. He came to an abrupt realization that he was still impaled on Brock's rock hard shaft.

"Ready to go again?" Brock asked.

[seattlebbbtm]

This is hot

[Mysteryman10]

11 hours ago, norubbers said:

Brock ripped Dr. Shah's white Calvin Klein briefs open, exposing his furry hole. Dr. Shah whimpered a bit. Almost on instinct, Brock buried his face in the doctor's ass. He sensed the doctor was ready for this.

Brock buried his tongue as far in Dr. Shah's guts as he could. He found himself prying the doctor's olive cheeks apart and working his fingers in to help his tongue burrow that much deeper.

Dr. Shah had been prepared, like a lamb headed for the alter. He was freshly showered, immaculately groomed, and eager. He seemed to be enthralled by the crowd that was assembling around them to witness Brock sacrifice him to the virus coursing through the veins of every other person in the room - the very virus the doctor had spent his career researching.

When Brock felt the doctor eagerly fucking himself on Brock's tongue, he knew it was time. He straightened himself behind the doctor, slicked his middle finger with a generous film of his precum and probed into the doctor's guts as far as he could. The velvety warmth sang a siren's call to his member. In contrast to the beasts of myth, though, it sang for its own death.

Brock curled his finger as he withdrew it, his fingernail tore into the fragile mucosa. Like Achilles's heel, that wound would be the doctor's downfall. Dr. Shah's sharp gasp suggested he was well aware of it. Both Brock and his virus delighted in the sight of blood under his nail. Brock lined his uncut member up behind Dr. Shah's hole, his venomous slime beginning to seep into the doctor.

Slowly and steadily, Brock slid the first bit of his cock in. For both of them, time stood still. It was clear that Dr. Shah didn't have much experience playing with his own hole. His ring clamped immediately, trying to halt Brock from penetrating him any further with his venom-tipped spear. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a kinder side of Brock felt bad for the doctor. Dr. Shah was the only person Brock had ever met whose girth came close to Brock's own. When the doctor fucked Brock, Brock was shocked at how difficult that girth was to take.

Now the table was turned, and the world renowned, tenured professor and virologist was bent over a chair, with a fresh sample of Brock's virus being injected slowly, directly into him. Prior to meeting his uncle, Brock had no idea that producing the amount of precum and cum that he did was unusual. Now that every bit of it carried a deadly payload, Brock considered it one of his greatest gifts.

Between his precum and the doctor's concentrated effort to relax his hole, Brock felt the way deeper beginning to open - and the monster living in Brock's blood was eager and giddy.

Brock began to work his hips very slowly in a shallow gyration. He was trying his best to imitate the doctor's movement when he'd fucked Brock. With every rotation, the head of Brock's 9" prick drilled further into the doctor's eager guts. 

Brock was vaguely aware of the eyes transfixed on him. More than anything, he was focused on the warmth and pressure of the doctor's rectum gradually accepting more of his monster shaft. This rhythm continued until Brock was a little less than halfway in and Brock felt the wall of Dr. Shah's second hole.

Brock slowly backed his cock out of the doctor's guts. He could see a pink tinge to the precum he'd churned to a froth inside the doctor. Brock's virus let out a cry of victory, knowing it was already infiltrating the doctor's veins. He plunged his cock back into to press on the wall deep within Dr. Shah.

Brock fished an ampule of genuine amyl out of his pocket and crushed it. He inhaled deeply before he wrapped his muscular forearm around the doctor and pulled him up against his chest. The warmth of his dose spread quickly through his body, allowing Brock a moment to lose himself in the cacophony of sensations.

He sensed some resistance in the doctor as he offered the aroma, but it wasn't really an offer and he wasn't taking no for an answer. Brock's hold on the doctor quickly became a restraint for the struggling doctor. The viper between Brock's legs waited patiently, its toxic secretions pooling...patient. finally the doctor gave up and inhaled deeply. The tension in his body crumbled as Brock felt every muscle relax - including his second hole. Brock's cock slithered gleefully in. As he lowered the doctor back over the chair.

Brock faced much less resistance the deeper he pressed into the doctor. In what seemed like no time, Brock felt his own auburn pubes mingling with the doctor's jet black fur. He paused a moment. He savored this welcoming new temporary home. His virus had started measuring for furniture and picking out window treatments - eager to close the deal and move in.

And then Brock began to move his hips again. He was doing his best to emulate the wave-like dance of Dr. Shah's fucking. The sensations of the doctor's hole felt very different from the feelings when he'd fucked Uncle Dale on the tail end of his conversion. Perhaps his imitations were successful. Perhaps he just wasn't as delirious this time.

Brock could feel the pressure building in his testicles. The exuberance of his virus manifesting in the deep longing Brock felt to ejaculate. Like the fussy parent he never had, his virus reminded him that reproducing was the most fundamental purpose of life. He didn't feel like he had much of a rebuttal, but he wanted to enjoy this a bit longer.

Dr. Shah's grunts became more rapid and insistant by the moment, which only encouraged Brock. Little by little, the smooth motion he'd been using broke down, giving way to harder and more forceful thrusts. The slap of his skin on the doctor's rang out over the crowd. He kept a very even, deliberate pace. Brock could feel his ability to restrain his orgasm slipping.

Brock pulled out completely. "Tell me what you want," he growled, barely audible to the assembled crowd.

"I want you to breed me," Dr. Shah whispered in response.

"Tell me what the fuck you want," Brock demanded, he placed his dripping stinger just inside the doctor's puffy, inflamed hole.

"I want in! I want to join you!" The doctor shouted in response.

"Chi mikhāhi," Brock shouted!

"Mikonam POZ!" The doctor pleaded. Brock sank himself to the root and released the built up flood of his DNA. Ropes of Brock's semen threaded with millions of copies of his virus coated the depths of Dr. Shah's guts. Dr. Shah's entire body went tense with the realization of what had just happened. Brock once again pulled him against his furry, muscular chest. This time in more of an embrace than a restraint.

Brock held Dr. Shah for what felt like an eternity. Gradually, the tension eased as the doctor melted into Brock's strength. Brock began to gently nuzzle the doctor's neck and the doctor gradually regained himself. He came to an abrupt realization that he was still impaled on Brock's rock hard shaft.

"Ready to go again?" Brock asked.

Ace chapter buddy! I was hard imagini g I was the doc submitting to that monster cock & feeling the dna flooding my guts! Keep going its "positively thrilling"....

[norubbers]

Brock felt as though his virus was leaching the life from Dr. Shah. Brock understood the headspace the doctor now occupied. He had been there himself two months ago. It simultaneously felt like an eternity ago and also yesterday.

What Brock didn't expect was the sense of power he felt. In a way he had just taken a man's life. No. That wasn't quite right. A man had given him his life. Willingly offered it. Demanded that Brock take it.

Not directly, mind you. HIV was more survivable than ever and getting more so every year. But Dr. Shah now faced a lifetime of monitoring and medications with serious risk of side effects. Not only was the doctor fully aware of this, it was his career - his entire life's work.

Brock had been holding Dr. Shah tenderly and savoring the moment while he processed all of this. That tenderness faded gradually as Brock's virus locked it away in the back of his mind. It was time to go back to work. Brock became acutely aware that his prick was still turgid. And that he was wearing too much clothing.

Brock turned the doctor to face him. "I guess we are in uncharted territory here," he said to the crowd as much as Dr. Shah. "While the Society may never have another succession, in the event we do, let's begin a new tradition. "Uncle Dale, the doctor should receive your original strain as well."

Brock spotted his uncle in the crowd. He had stripped down to nothing but a metal cock ring. Knowing his uncle, the cock ring was more for aesthetic than anything. His uncle nodded and began making his way toward Brock and the doctor.

"And for all those who remained gathered - those Jarls who voted for the survival and furtherance of the society - let us baptize our newest member and wash him in as many of the first generation strains as we have gathered here," Brock barely recognized the confidence and command in his own voice. Maybe it was the virus speaking.

A murmur of excitement shot through the crowd. Most everyone seemed excited about the idea. Uncle Dale and some of the crowd cleared way for a large, padded platform that had been pushed out of the way for the meeting. Dr. Shah, still looked a bit bewildered, but he also appeared very content.

Brock led the doctor over to the oversized platform. By the vinyl upholstery, brock suspected this was specifically made for such a purpose. Brock laid the doctor down and confiscated the doctor's white briefs before moving out of the way so his uncle could have his turn.

Brock brought the doctor's briefs to his face and inhaled deeply. The doctor's natural musk was intoxicating. Not a high like the amyl, this invoked desire. Brock's virus helped him sort through the mixture of pheromones. It was like a litmus test of the doctor's thoughts leading up to tonight. Lust. Fear. Excitement. Anger. More lust.

Brock was vaguely aware of his uncle beginning to penetrate the doctor. "Kiddo, you stretched him out so much! It's like throwing a hot dog down a hallway over here," he chided. Brock could only smirk.

Brock surveyed the crowd of Jarls. The majority of them appeared to be his uncle's age or older. Builds ranging from "Peter Pan" perpetual twinks up to burly, ball-gutted bears. The cocks on display were equally varied. Brock felt a flash of something else through the haze of power. Community. Despite being half the age of the youngest guy here, Brock felt a powerful sense of belonging.

Brock glanced back over at his uncle. He seemed to be having a good time. He had no difficulty sinking his 8" cock into the doctor. Some of Brock's jizz oozed out around his prick. Like some kind of donut filled with coconut milk. "My god, bud! How much cum did you shoot in the good doctor?!" His uncle joked some more.

Brock selected the first Jarl and guided him over to the side of the fuck table. "Introduce yourself to our friend the doctor and me, then christen him with your load," Brock commanded.

"Brian. Baton Rouge nest," the man said shortly. He had a delightful accent. Brian looked to be in his 50s. He was was athletically built and nearly hairless. What caught Brock's attention was his height. Brock wasn't great at judging the height of people shorter than himself. By his approximation Brian stood 5'3". In contrast to the size of his body, his cock looked huge, but it was a good 3" shorter than Brock's.

Brock watched as Brian easily pushed himself to orgasm. Where Brock had always been a powerful shooter, Brian's orgasm seeped from the tip of his circumcised dick like a thick syrup and dropped onto the doctor's furry chest in a puddle.

Seeing his fellow Jarl's load drove Uncle Dale into a brief frenzy. To be fair, Brock felt a surge of feral desire from his own virus recognizing itself in the spill of Brian's precious reproductive nectar. Every depraved fucker in the room perked up a bit.

Brock had to stay focused, though. Brock took another deep inhale of the doctor's briefs and began working his way through the crowd. 

David from L.A. was an unexpectedly femme bear who looked like he could break most of them in half. His short, fat prick shot for distance. Most of his load missed the doctor entirely, but some thin drops landed here and there from the doctor's neck to his shins.

The moment of frenzy ripped through the crowd as the scent of his cum filled the air. Brock raised the briefs to his face again.

Alex from Brooklyn. Tall. Skinny. Hairless. His cock was like himself in penis form. Probably 10" long, below average girth. His ejaculation was one medium force shot of thick, white cream.

Anthony from Atlanta. Medium height, built like a linebacker. His gorgeous, uncut black cock contrasted nicely with his pearl-white load.

After each load, the frenzy built a bit more in the crowd and the doctor's scent went further and further to Brock's head.

Uncle Dale's moans caught Brock's attention. He had the doctor's knees on his shoulders and was ready to explode. Dr. Shah was notably quiet. Some grunting and heavy breathing, but otherwise he seemed to be in a trance. His olive skin was streaked with at least 20 loads of cum of all manners of size and viscosity.

"You're going to have to tag in again, kiddo," Dale said after he caught his breath. If Dr. Shah's hole had looked like a donut filled with coconut oil before, it now looked like someone had smashed that donut in a fit of lunacy. "I'll trade you." He smirked.

[Mysteryman10]

On 10/24/2024 at 8:23 PM, norubbers said:

Brock felt as though his virus was leaching the life from Dr. Shah. Brock understood the headspace the doctor now occupied. He had been there himself two months ago. It simultaneously felt like an eternity ago and also yesterday.

What Brock didn't expect was the sense of power he felt. In a way he had just taken a man's life. No. That wasn't quite right. A man had given him his life. Willingly offered it. Demanded that Brock take it.

Not directly, mind you. HIV was more survivable than ever and getting more so every year. But Dr. Shah now faced a lifetime of monitoring and medications with serious risk of side effects. Not only was the doctor fully aware of this, it was his career - his entire life's work.

Brock had been holding Dr. Shah tenderly and savoring the moment while he processed all of this. That tenderness faded gradually as Brock's virus locked it away in the back of his mind. It was time to go back to work. Brock became acutely aware that his prick was still turgid. And that he was wearing too much clothing.

Brock turned the doctor to face him. "I guess we are in uncharted territory here," he said to the crowd as much as Dr. Shah. "While the Society may never have another succession, in the event we do, let's begin a new tradition. "Uncle Dale, the doctor should receive your original strain as well."

Brock spotted his uncle in the crowd. He had stripped down to nothing but a metal cock ring. Knowing his uncle, the cock ring was more for aesthetic than anything. His uncle nodded and began making his way toward Brock and the doctor.

"And for all those who remained gathered - those Jarls who voted for the survival and furtherance of the society - let us baptize our newest member and wash him in as many of the first generation strains as we have gathered here," Brock barely recognized the confidence and command in his own voice. Maybe it was the virus speaking.

A murmur of excitement shot through the crowd. Most everyone seemed excited about the idea. Uncle Dale and some of the crowd cleared way for a large, padded platform that had been pushed out of the way for the meeting. Dr. Shah, still looked a bit bewildered, but he also appeared very content.

Brock led the doctor over to the oversized platform. By the vinyl upholstery, brock suspected this was specifically made for such a purpose. Brock laid the doctor down and confiscated the doctor's white briefs before moving out of the way so his uncle could have his turn.

Brock brought the doctor's briefs to his face and inhaled deeply. The doctor's natural musk was intoxicating. Not a high like the amyl, this invoked desire. Brock's virus helped him sort through the mixture of pheromones. It was like a litmus test of the doctor's thoughts leading up to tonight. Lust. Fear. Excitement. Anger. More lust.

Brock was vaguely aware of his uncle beginning to penetrate the doctor. "Kiddo, you stretched him out so much! It's like throwing a hot dog down a hallway over here," he chided. Brock could only smirk.

Brock surveyed the crowd of Jarls. The majority of them appeared to be his uncle's age or older. Builds ranging from "Peter Pan" perpetual twinks up to burly, ball-gutted bears. The cocks on display were equally varied. Brock felt a flash of something else through the haze of power. Community. Despite being half the age of the youngest guy here, Brock felt a powerful sense of belonging.

Brock glanced back over at his uncle. He seemed to be having a good time. He had no difficulty sinking his 8" cock into the doctor. Some of Brock's jizz oozed out around his prick. Like some kind of donut filled with coconut milk. "My god, bud! How much cum did you shoot in the good doctor?!" His uncle joked some more.

Brock selected the first Jarl and guided him over to the side of the fuck table. "Introduce yourself to our friend the doctor and me, then christen him with your load," Brock commanded.

"Brian. Baton Rouge nest," the man said shortly. He had a delightful accent. Brian looked to be in his 50s. He was was athletically built and nearly hairless. What caught Brock's attention was his height. Brock wasn't great at judging the height of people shorter than himself. By his approximation Brian stood 5'3". In contrast to the size of his body, his cock looked huge, but it was a good 3" shorter than Brock's.

Brock watched as Brian easily pushed himself to orgasm. Where Brock had always been a powerful shooter, Brian's orgasm seeped from the tip of his circumcised dick like a thick syrup and dropped onto the doctor's furry chest in a puddle.

Seeing his fellow Jarl's load drove Uncle Dale into a brief frenzy. To be fair, Brock felt a surge of feral desire from his own virus recognizing itself in the spill of Brian's precious reproductive nectar. Every depraved fucker in the room perked up a bit.

Brock had to stay focused, though. Brock took another deep inhale of the doctor's briefs and began working his way through the crowd. 

David from L.A. was an unexpectedly femme bear who looked like he could break most of them in half. His short, fat prick shot for distance. Most of his load missed the doctor entirely, but some thin drops landed here and there from the doctor's neck to his shins.

The moment of frenzy ripped through the crowd as the scent of his cum filled the air. Brock raised the briefs to his face again.

Alex from Brooklyn. Tall. Skinny. Hairless. His cock was like himself in penis form. Probably 10" long, below average girth. His ejaculation was one medium force shot of thick, white cream.

Anthony from Atlanta. Medium height, built like a linebacker. His gorgeous, uncut black cock contrasted nicely with his pearl-white load.

After each load, the frenzy built a bit more in the crowd and the doctor's scent went further and further to Brock's head.

Uncle Dale's moans caught Brock's attention. He had the doctor's knees on his shoulders and was ready to explode. Dr. Shah was notably quiet. Some grunting and heavy breathing, but otherwise he seemed to be in a trance. His olive skin was streaked with at least 20 loads of cum of all manners of size and viscosity.

"You're going to have to tag in again, kiddo," Dale said after he caught his breath. If Dr. Shah's hole had looked like a donut filled with coconut oil before, it now looked like someone had smashed that donut in a fit of lunacy. "I'll trade you." He smirked.

Ace chapter-Dr Shars hole must now be a cavernous cum bucket-that turns me on-i would love guys to make me the same-i wanna join the group where can I get my tatoo?

Edited October 26 by Mysteryman10
spelling mistake