Brotherhood of the Bug

[Marlin]

The Initiate had woken in fiery, delirious fever, an angry rash spreading across his torso. The Fuck Flu: a unique and one-time experience in a young man’s life, of more significance even than a boy’s first ejaculation. 

Damn....exactly how I remember my sero-conversion....Waking up with soaked sheets, a little scare but also excited as I remembered the event 3 weeks earlier when that man's semen entered my anus and immediately began off loading the virus into my abraded rectal walls. That morning was confirmation that his DNA was now part of me

[J-raw]

How long did you chase for the bug?

[120DaysofSodom]

Hottt

[PDXPDX]

V. The Affirmation of the Blood 

The Brother Physician felt for a vein in the young man’s tightly muscled arm, and drew a vial of shining, crimson blood. This would be spirited away in secret to a lab, in the care of a Brother employed there, who was entrusted with some of the Chapter’s most sensitive secrets. For the Conversions that are the sacred heart of the Tradition must never be identified by the “authorities” or publicly recorded. 

The Brother Technician worked into the night, keeping the lab windows covered in dark cloth. A centrifuge whirred and sensitive instruments flickered to life. A laser printer heaved a sigh and spat forth a page full of cryptic scripture. What was produced there, known in prosaic terms as a lab report, was in fact, in the religious rites of the Brothers, a Baptismal certificate.

Three more nights passed and the Initiate’s agony began to ease. He still had a moderate fever but he was completely conscious and his appetite had returned, enough to eat light meals. More importantly, his sexual drive was beginning to stir again. The Brother Medic smiled knowingly when, late at night, he observed the natural rhythms of the young man’s Member, stiffening and relaxing under the blanket. The Initiate felt a glorious, delicious desire, tinged with the knowledge that his Cock was now endowed with an awesome new power. Thinking of how he would soon carry out the duties of Manhood caused his heart to pound and his penis to swell.

Brothers stopped by regularly to help the patient pass his days. They spoke of insignificant things, but also began to mix in light innuendo and sexual banter, the stock in trade of chatter in the Chapter House halls. A Brother known for his Daddy tendencies (he often sported a leather harness, even under his ritual robes, across his massive, furred chest) sat on the edge of the bed. The warmth and humor in his deep baritone voice were a balm to the Initiate’s ears. The man would jokingly punch the boy’s shoulder to punctuate an anecdote, once stroking his cheek in a light, affectionate way when wishing him a speedy recovery.

Soon the innocent touch began to extend farther down the lad’s chest as he lay under a light cover. Not surprisingly, the Initiate’s loins responded and his manhood stirred, a blanketed mountain rising above his groin. The elder Brother continued his explorations southward, now lifting the blanket and gently caressing the young man’s endowment. Daddy Brother now dropped all pretense of mere joking. Lowering his face in earnest, he freed and grasped the throbbing young cock, which was flush and burning with fever. The older man’s lips and tongue were desperately hungry, straining to extract an offering of rare and exquisite value.

For at this moment, the Initiate was ready to produce his first fertile ejaculation, teeming with fresh, young viral life. Daddy’s work was skilled and efficient, and in mere moments reached its conclusion. The fluid that was brought forth was thick, viscous and plentiful, the product of weeks of retention – of a tawny, mushroom color, with a correspondingly fecund and foresty flavor. In spasms that went on for nearly two minutes, the lad’s overflowing testes delivered a prodigious bounty, and the older man eagerly devoured it, taking the boy’s cockhead deep in his throat where it ejaculated directly into his guts.

Brother Medic sat in a corner of the room, smiling tolerantly and lightly stroking his own crotch as he watched the lovemaking. This was an unplanned visit, not an official part of the Ritual, but still an important and necessary experience for a new Brother. The young man sat upright in bed, sweating anew, his eyes wide in shock and wonder, suddenly aware of what had happened. The older man smiled as he wiped his lips. “Congratulations, Brother. Your first toxic load.” As the flood of post-orgasmic release and satisfaction swept over the Initiate, he was filled with a deep sense of pride. A new chapter in his life was beginning. What splendid adventures awaited him! He would prime this, his newly endowed weapon, taking aim at desirable prey and harvesting them for the pleasures of the Brotherhood and the glory of His Dark Lordship.

The first fingers of dawn were spreading across the sky as the Brother Technician finished his work. He secreted away the precious document, switched off the instruments and carefully returned the lab to its untouched state. Using hacking skills taught him by a Brother Coder, he logged into the university security system and wiped the record of his visit.

He made his way back to the Chapter House, cutting through the campus. Out of the corner of an eye he noticed two furtive figures lurking between the statue of the University’s beloved late President (himself a secret Brother) and a bushy grove. Two fresh-faced young men were locked in passionate embrace, their hands wandering over each other, grasping desperately at the straining denim of bulging crotches.

The Brother Technician smiled knowingly and affectionately at this expression of tender young love. The boys, lithe and athletic, caught his eye. Startled, they made as if to run away. But the Brother, schooled in the art of Mesmer, cast a powerful glance and they froze in their tracks. The moment was too brief, the distance too great, to apply the full hypnotic power with which the Brother had captured many a young soul. Though he was unable to cast the full Spell of Conversion Lust, he felt he had planted a seed. He would not be at all surprised if these two turned up at the Chapter House door one day, their young loins burning with the desire for Infection.

He rounded the corner where the campus chapel stood by the student health center, and shivered in a sudden cold wave. These two edifices were hateful symbols of the enemies of the Brotherhood: Christianity, destroyer of ancient Pagan cultures and sexual freedom; and Medicine, dedicated to the senseless eradication of our beautiful Virus. Medicine had created the poison of HIV “treatment” that rips a hole in the heart of the Brotherhood. And, in a tragedy of immense proportions, in recent years the evil sect of Doctors had committed an act of sheer brutality, creating a potion that poisons men’s bodies against Conversion. The Brothers refuse to speak the poison’s four-letter name aloud, spitting in contempt as they refer to “the P word.” In the face of this enemy, their mission is more urgent than ever. They must work twice as hard to bring new men into the fold, lest their race become extinct.

Entering an access code that silently opened a windowless gate in a high, spiked wall, the Brother passed into a cobblestoned courtyard, reaching the imposing Gothic portico of the Chapter House. The High Priest had given instructions to wake him, whatever the hour, with the glad tidings. The Technician hurried through a maze of halls, stairs and chambers to the Priest’s sumptuous quarters, tapped the secret knock, and delivered the precious testament into his superior’s hands. 

The Priest accepted the paper and examined it. After a moment’s contemplation, he closed his eyes reverently. The Brother Technician joined him in a moment of prayerful thanksgiving. 

The scroll bore a verse of the holiest scripture: HIV-1 INFECTION CONFIRMED BY PCR TEST. VIRAL RNA DETECTED AT 2.1 MILLION COPIES/mL.

All hail to Him who giveth death-life.

(To be continued)

[Mvillebottom]

Loving how hot this story is!  Already in my top 10 favorites and climbing!  Thank you for taking the time to give us readers such enjoyment.

[Fillitup57]

good story- want to come up to Portland  and pnp with you and get fucked for hours.

[dazzasboy]

Such a fantastic story so far. Thank you very much for the effort

[pnpsub]

13 hours ago, PDXPDX said:

All hail to Him who giveth death-life.

Hail the Dark Lord and his dark gifts!

I offer myself to Him, to use as He chooses. 

[PDXPDX]

VI. Confirmation

A cold, clear dawn broke and the word went forth that preparations were to be made for a Mass of Confirmation. Auspiciously, the moon was to be full that night, another sign that the Powers of the Night had bestowed their blessing on the Initiate. 

The mood was festive and bustling as the Brothers scurried about preparing for the Feast. The Great Hall was festooned with garlands of nightshade and bittersweet. Long tables were laid with thickly wrought silverware and forged brass plates, each dish emblazoned with the Fraternal Greek letters: ΑΙΔΣ. The Brother Cooks busied themselves in the cavernous kitchens deep in the bowels of the House, roasting great slabs of stag, wild boar and other game.

After a frantic day, the hush of dusk fell over the rambling stone complex. Finally the hour had arrived. The Acolytes descended first into the crypt, preparing the Chamber for the ceremony. The altar was polished to a fine sheen and fresh torches affixed to the walls. A winch handle was turned counterclockwise and, with a shriek of iron and a clash of chains, the sacred Sling of rough-sewn leather descended from the gloom of the arches above, until it halted, suspended in the center of the nave.

The Brother Cantor began to lead the chant, followed in two lines by the gathered Brotherhood, clad in their finest robes. At the very end, flanked by the same two Guards who had forcefully overseen his Initiation, was the new Brother, beaming with pride and proceeding with a light stride, his limbs full of the manly vigor bestowed by the One, through the viral life pumping within. Gone entirely were the doubts and regrets that had plagued him before his initial Insemination.

The Brothers descended the semicircular flights of stone stairs at either side of the narthex and took their places in the sanctuary. The Initiate was led forward and the High Priest, behind the altar, raised his arms in welcome, then leaned across the altar and offered a warm embrace, whispering “HAIL” in the young Novice’s ear.

“We are gathered today to confirm our Brother’s new life and the irreversible dedication of his blood, body and soul to the Glory of the Powerful One and the Fellowship of the Holy Cock,” intoned the Priest. An altar server then brought forth the same sacred Coffer that had held the Test Kit, a lifetime ago. Lifting the lid, the Priest produced the slip of paper that the Brother Technician had delivered in the early hours of this blessed day.

“A reading from the Word of our Lord and Master. The Congregation shall repeat after me: HIV-ONE INFECTION CONFIRMED BY PCR TEST.”

The Men chanted in a deep bass unison: “HIV-ONE INFECTION CONFIRMED BY PCR TEST.”

The Priest continued the Recitation: “VIRAL RNA DETECTED AT TWO POINT ONE MILLION COPIES PER MILLILITER.”

And the Congregation responded: “VIRAL RNA DETECTED AT TWO POINT ONE MILLION COPIES PER MILLILITER.”

The Priest concluded: “Praise be to the Dark Lord. Amen”

And the Men too, their voices competing for the loudest and most praiseful note, intoned, “AMEN!!”

“Herewith we bestow upon our Brother the Blessings of Manhood. For he has achieved the most sacred and treasured status HIV-POSITIVE. Forever shall it possess his Body. His former negative status is dead, sacrificed unto our Master for His glory.”

The Guards then turned the Novice to face the gathered men, taking his robe from his shoulders to display him in his full nakedness. The weeks of rigorous training showed their glorious results. Here was a young man in his prime, with golden skin and the musculature of a Michelangelo sculpture. His radiant health laughed in the face of mortals who fear the Virus. The Brethren burst into spontaneous applause and the young man broke into a grin. His loins, too, showed their appreciation and his Member began its ascent into joyful turgidity.

He was then led ceremoniously to the Sling, where the Guards laid him in position, his wrists and ankles firmly secured with thick leather straps. The Congregation drew nearer, gathering around for a close view.

Emerging from the shadows was a Brother Artist, wheeling before him a cart of rough-hewn wood and forged brass rivets, laden with instruments and inks. He caressed the boy's hard young groin, feeling for the smooth, clean surface that had been designated for the Work.

The Novice, in consultation with his Mentors, had made his selection from a richly endowed portfolio of sacred designs. Some were simple and stylized, a mere three intersecting, inward-facing semicircles. Others were intricately embedded in tribal designs, meant to turn broad shoulders and thickly muscled upper backs into a visual feast. A few younger Brothers, following the fashion of the times, opted for a Scorpion, evoking the poison sting with which He bestows his Blessing. But most, in respect for tradition, remained true to the Biohazard, the eternal symbol of our Clan and the central element of our Coat of Arms. Many examples in the book were specially revered in memory of departed Brothers who had proudly borne them until they passed below into the eternal sexual embrace of the One.

The new Brother had opted for a bold and brazen badge, a good five inches in diameter. It would extend from just below his navel to where the root of his newly powerful Manhood sprouted proudly amid golden, lushly piled pubes – which the Artist now deftly shaved with a silver blade, exposing the skin for its inking. The Novice lay back in the Sling, bracing himself for the pain. The Guards pinned his shoulders down; one caressed his cheek and whispered words of courage in his ear, as the needle bore down and the Artist inflicted his excruciating wonders.

Given the care and talent that went into the Inscribing, a good two hours passed before the beauty had been fully endowed. When it was completed, a fresh glory in blue and red against a crimson background of inflamed flesh, the Artist stood back and the Brothers strained to gaze on the glorious masterwork. The Biohazard shone like a beacon, drawing the eye to the boy's newly loaded weapon below it, which was thickening with pride. The men felt a power emanating from the fresh-inflicted ink, the Blessing of Him who now possessed this branded young body. Many a man’s Member swelled in lustful worship of the holiness embodied here.

The restraints were loosened and the young Brother stood once again naked before his comrades, displaying a body still gloriously youthful but now marked forever. Tainted and no longer pristine in the eyes of the world -- but, to the enlightened gaze of the Brothers, endowed with a beauty beyond compare.

(To be continued)

[PDXPDX]

So sorry, fellas -- I realized my profile pic is a mirror selfie. My tattoo is actually on my left, not my right. Fixed. 😈

[DICKWADD]

Ahhhhhh, so you are a POZ TOP!  Fuck yea, brother!  

[PDXPDX]

Hi guys, here's the next chapter... I plan to post one every weekend from here on out. Enjoy!

VII. The Sacrament

The Chapter was still rejoicing at the addition of an eager new Convert to their ranks. Now was the time for the special sharing that the newest Brother could bestow only in the springtime of his Gift.

The haunting notes of the Initiation Hymn rang through the subterranean Chapter Hall, its ancient stone lightly trembling to the deep baritone thrum. Torches were lit in their iron rings with a spattering flare, casting a dim glow into the farthest recess of the crypt, where a hidden stairway spiraled to even lower Depths. As prescribed by the Ritual, the Brothers filed into the back of the sanctuary, forming an orderly semicircle on either side. 

To one side of the altar the newest Brother, his unhooded robe now bound with the crimson cord of a Novice, sat with the easy confidence bestowed by full manhood, upon an ornately carved chair of dark wood, padded in red velvet, with the Fraternal crest emblazoned on its back. To call it a throne would be unseemly, but with its restrained, masculine dignity it was without question a seat of honor. The young man’s radiant glow and gentle, indulgent smile betrayed a modest but well-earned pride.

The Liturgy was familiar to the Novice, who had undergone a similar Initiation ceremony just weeks before. But there was one important difference. Rather than a mass anointment of semen injected by the gathered Brotherhood into a fertile and receptive hole, on this High Holy Night the recent Convert was to administer the Sacrament alone, drawing on the unique and beautiful power of his newly poz Cock, a brilliant but short-lived potency with a viral – or shall we say virile – load in the miraculous millions. A power granted by the Dark One with the commandment to deploy it, broadly but wisely, to bestow the Gift of Conversion on a few fortunate men.

A dank, mysterious breeze wafted from unseen passageways as uneven footsteps tripped their way down the stone stairwell. The entry was less orderly than before, for the man being escorted was putting up a vigorous fight.

Even beneath the loose-fitting robe his powerful build was unmistakable, and the two Guards, at the peak of fitness themselves, struggled to subdue him. In the scuffle the garment’s hood was wrenched off, revealing the wide, angular face of a man of some fifty years, with close-cropped silver hair and thick stubble. A fiery rage flashed in the man’s blue-gray eyes and his broad, muscled shoulders heaved and twisted as he battled his captors. As he thrashed, the neck of his robe fell open, unveiling a massive chest with thick nipples that stood defiantly erect through a forest of silver hair.

The rough rope binding the cloak at the waist slipped open as it was pulled to and fro, allowing the sides of the robe to drape open gracefully, like stage curtains. The opening had barely widened a few inches when the man’s cock, powered by its own angry arousal, sprang forth – lifting along with it a ruddy scrotum easily the size of two fists, buried in a nest of silvery hair like steel wool. The massive orbs within the sac jostled and bounced as the man continued to exert all his force in an effort to break free.

A shock of recognition swept the gathered Brothers – though their hood-shrouded faces kept their composure and the chant continued unabated, slowly gathering force. The Novice in his chair of honor felt an uneasy jolt course through his body. For the new arrival was no ordinary Recruit. He was an infamous foe of the Brotherhood: the pastor of a local megachurch, a potent political force in the conservative community. This “reverend” hosted religious broadcasts along with his shrewish, heavily made-up wife, where they raged ceaselessly against the evils of sexual sin. Nothing seemed to arouse his anger more than the spread of HIV, and he would spit violently as he cast his contempt on “filthy, AIDS-ridden homosexuals.” 

As he became aware of his surroundings a hint of fear tinged the anger in his eyes and his struggle ebbed slightly. He pulled himself to his full height, fixing a prideful but chastened glare at the altar before him. The eerie chant rose again in volume and tempo, as the High Priest emerged from the gloom.

“Are you [citing his name]?” the Priest intoned in a resounding baritone. “I am,” the man replied, summoning his own imposing, masculine timbre, with just a hint of uncertainty. “Do you know why you stand before us?” “I have been brought here by force, against my will.” 

“You stand at trial as an enemy of our Brotherhood,” the Priest declared. “Tonight you are to be transformed. We give you a choice. You may accept with gratitude the Gift we offer, along with our forgiveness – or you may fight it and be marked as an outcast, both among our ranks and in those of your own hateful sect. Either way, you will receive forever in your body the Sacrament of our Faith, that which you have long reviled and blasphemed.”

“Fuck you, you filthy f*****t,” the man snarled, straining anew at his bonds. The Guards tightened their grips, easily overcoming his now flagging resistance.

The Priest remained calm. “You still have time to repent. We are men of grace and justice, and we extend the hand of welcome to those who gladly receive what we offer. Think carefully. A wise choice on your part will grant you entry to a Fellowship of Men far more powerful than the impotent religion which you now profess.”

“Fuck you,” the prisoner repeated, this time with a noticeable shade less conviction. 

“Very well,” the Priest nodded. “Your resolve will be tested.” He glanced at the Guards, who turned the man roughly, forcing him to face the congregation.

At this point a group of four Brothers, their faces cloaked like the others, their voices still chanting in mystical unison, broke from the ranks and strode in single file toward the altar, arraying themselves closely around the struggling captive. Even the thick robes could scarcely conceal their supple, athletic bodies.

One by one the four men unfastened and cast off their garments, revealing breathtaking torsos, taut abdomens, hard-trained arms and trunk-like legs. These magnificent young men, all of them on the cusp of twenty, were the flower of the Brotherhood’s youth, each boy beguilingly beautiful in his own way. One was a golden blond with the first fresh bloom of auburn beard, a few tentative strands of hair adorning his broad, smooth chest. Another had mahogany skin, pitch-dark hair, and almond-shaped eyes set in a perfect, unwrinkled brow. The third was sculpted of priceless ebony, with chocolate hair tightly surrounding his massive skull and carpeting godlike genitals. The fourth, a sinewy redhead, was clad in pale, marble-like skin sketched with light blue veins and lightly sprinkled with freckles. A light tuft of ginger pubic hair topped his gently dangling uncut cock, more modest in size than the others but with a perfectly proportioned beauty.

The young Brothers sparkled with an endearing boyishness, but moved with the earnest, meaningful manner of men about their work. 

The foursome laid their hands upon the trembling man, who gave a startled gasp and shuddered momentarily in the Guards’ tight grasp. The young men’s tender ministrations seemed to melt his resistance and he relaxed slightly, only tensing as each boy’s fingers caressed his most sensitive parts - grazing a nipple, gliding down his shivering back, gently cupping his prodigious balls, then stroking his still-stiffening member, which responded of its own accord, straining and twitching toward the vaulted ceiling. Soft lips and moist tongues explored every crevice of his quivering body. The man heaved a sigh, loosening his tension imperceptibly. As the blond boy slid into a kneeling position and brought full young lips toward the man’s pulsing cockhead, the prisoner seemed to resign himself to his fate, throwing his head back as he accepted the pleasure that was forcefully bestowed upon him. 

The strange words of the ancient chant rose and enveloped him, and the wide eyes of the Novice, still patiently waiting to perform his duty, glowed with intensity as he cast his gaze upon the scene.

The captive’s ten-inch cock glided easily down the young blond’s practiced throat, and the other lads added their own stimulation – the black boy stretching his lips to envelop the massive balls, the redhead licking the lightly haired shaft and sharing its glistening head with his blond Brother in a tender kiss.

Then the mahogany-skinned youth rose to his feet and turned to the congregation, backing toward the altar and presenting the smooth copper globes of his backside to the captive. He reached behind himself and stretched his buttocks from either side, revealing a taut, puckered hole that glistened with the spit with which his fellows had anointed him in pre-ceremonial preparations. The prisoner tensed anew, a look of terror in his eyes, but retained his stance as the boy backed himself onto the hard cock – which, with a will of its own, throbbed greedily as it slid in.

All pretense of resistance was dropped as the man slipped his arms from the Guards’ now loose grasp and clenched the boy’s chest, tightly squeezing him as he pounded his loins hungrily, deep into the welcoming hole. Grunts and growls emerged from his grimacing lips and he shook, seemingly seized with an electrical force beyond his control.

A sudden, final spasm exploded from his groin, his face contorted in simultaneous shock and ecstasy, and he emitted a guttural cry that echoed through the vaulted arches. His arms wrapped even more tightly around the brown-skinned boy and, despite himself, he grasped the young man’s face, turned it toward him, and kissed him passionately.

Suddenly the captive seemed to come to his senses and pushed the boy away, his slick, semi-hard cock bouncing as it was roughly yanked from the tight young hole. The man staggered backwards, stumbling against the altar, and grasped his head in his hands. “What are you– get the fuck– I didn’t want–” he stammered weakly.

The Priest stepped out of the shadows where he had been discreetly watching and addressed the man, as the four boys stood at attention, their own turgid cocks pulsing from their exertions. Abruptly the congregation interrupted its insistent chant, the dark notes reverberating for many minutes until they faded into stony silence. The captive’s heaving shoulders sagged, and a look of resignation came over his sweating face.

“You know what you are, friend. Your body betrays you,” the Priest said gently. “You stand at a crossroads. Ahead of you could lie an endless bounty of the pleasure you have just tasted. If you cast your lot with our Order, you will claim the manly embrace of a community of lovers. We are truer to our Faith and more steadfastly loyal to our fellows than the brittle hypocrites who profess to be your disciples. Do you not wish to be one of us?”

The man held a long, dejected gaze at the flagstone floor, seemingly lost in thought, while the gathered Brothers maintained silence. Finally, summoning a scrap of courage, he whispered, “What must I do?”

“You shall be anointed this night with a life force that you will bear within your body forever. The entire Brotherhood will witness as your false manhood is stripped from you and you are laid bare as the naked and vulnerable boy that you have always been.

“Once the Gift has been received within you, your past transgressions will be burned away in a fiery fever. I will not lie – it will be an ordeal, but one from which you will emerge a new and purified Man, the bearer of enormous power and privilege, but also of lifelong responsibility. You must promise to share our precious Gift with generations to come, as Scripture dictates. If you remain devoted to the oath of our Order, the Brothers will stand by your side unto death, and beyond.”

The Priest held his words for the few moments it took his voice to echo and fade through the halls, then intoned, “Will you so solemnly swear?”

The man stood transfixed for many minutes, daring not to look up from the floor. Finally he nodded, barely perceptibly. The Priest, raising his arms, repeated with greater force, “Will you so solemnly swear?”

After one more moment of hesitation, the man drew a deep breath. “I will.”

The Novice gasped lightly and shifted in his chair, adjusting the drapes of his robe modestly across his stirring lap. 

The Priest lowered his arms and clasped his hands before him. In spite of his solemn dignity, a light smile crept onto his lips. “Let us prepare the Service.”

[barebamabear]

Excellent writing. I feel like I’m in the room and I’m hard as fuck.

[oinker]

Enjoyed the story !  I’d like it more if there was more poz breedings possible multiple guys breeding giving the details of how the poz  nen turn on the beg by teasing him with their cocks till he just can not resist !  

[Bicycledude]

On 3/31/2024 at 12:09 PM, barebamabear said:

Excellent writing. I feel like I’m in the room and I’m hard as fuck.