The Seeds of Destruction
Last Saturday night I was chatting with
this pretty 18 year old. He was
sitting wide-eyed on a bench outside the showers, ogling the guys strutting
their stuff. I sat down
beside him and said, "Hi."
It was his first time at the Baths, and
he was nervous. He found the
atmosphere intimidating and was scared to death of "catching
something." He wanted sex (at least he
said he did); but all the guys were too old or fat or withered or
diseased. And he was shocked by
all the "unsafe sex."
Several guys walked by clutching little
vials, and he asked me what Poppers
did for them. He'd never tried
them.
"They're no big deal, really. They just relax you and make you feel more sociable."
"Got any?"
"In my locker. Be
right back."
But they weren't in my locker. I had 'em stuffed in the waist folds of
my towel all along. I just needed
an excuse to find my bud.
Adam was sitting in the TV Room. He'd already noticed the cute thing I
was with, as had everybody in the Club by then.
"Gonna fuck him?"
"He's pretty green.
It's his first trip here, and he's scared to death. I need your help.
You get first dibs."
I told him we'd meet him in the Maze,
then hurried back to the Kid. He
was relieved to see me round the corner as some "Sleazy Old Trolls" had put the make on him.
I handed him the bottle and told him to
take a little sniff to see how they affected him. He did so, maybe for a moment longer than I would have
recommended, then moaned that he felt "nice
and hot."
"Now there's the understatement of the year!"
I asked him if he’d like to take a
tour; and he said, "Yes." Upon spotting the "Sleazy
Old Troll" who'd groped his Ass, he kept close on my tail.
Once again he asked to borrow my
Poppers. I told him to hang onto
them. I had a feeling the Kid
would need them a helluva lot more than I before the night was through.
"Geez, thanks." He took a deep whiff and turned
red. "They sure work wonders. Lemme know when you want 'em
back."
We entered the Maze and stood just
inside the door, back lit only by a dim red light. The moaning emanating from the dark passages beyond was
supplanted by the slap of flesh on flesh. Unnerved, the Youth uncapped the bottle and took
another whiff. That's when Adam
slipped behind him, and I stepped back into the shadows.
The Kid sniffed from the bottle while
Adam worked his Ass. I don't
know what sweet-nothings my bud whispered in his ear, but they took off for
Adam's room.
As I waited for the outcome of their
little tryst, I entered the bowels of the Maze in search of LOVE. An unlubed finger snaked up my
Butt. Annoyed, I turned to
confront my uncouth suitor, and discovered it was Alan. He led me to his room. The Kid was lying on his stomach.
"Why's he sleeping?"
"Well, he wanted to try something a little stronger than Poppers; and all I had was GHB."
"Great!
We can't leave him here like this!"
But Adam is one of those imperturbable
buggers whom nothing fazes.
Between the two of us, we dragged the Kid back to the Maze and strapped
him in the leather Sling.
The Kid looked so angelic, his legs in
stirrups high above his head, his glistening Mancunt soft and beckoning. I guess Adam couldn't help
himself. After depositing a 2nd POZ LOAD up the Boy's Mancunt, he took off,
leaving me alone with Poisoned Beauty.
I reached down, dug my finger in his
Pussy, and came away with a digit drenched in Spooge. I marveled at how salty. Adam's Seed is always salty.
"AH, POZ
CUM!" I sighed dramatically, recollecting the day two years before
when Adam confided he was POZ.
I'd always suspected I'd been the one who bred his Ass, but never
breathed a word of it to anyone.
I glanced down at Sleeping Beauty. Such a sweet Pussy! We were alone. He'd never be more fuckable. I shuddered as the 3rd POZ LOAD of the evening spurted up the Young Man's Ass. I headed for the showers to join my
Bud, then to his room for a catnap.
2 A.M! Time to check on our Progeny. There was a lot of traffic in the Maze. One of the fabled "Old Trolls" stopped me
excited. "Fuck! You should see what's going on."
Still secured in the Sling was our
Sacrificial Lamb. As I nudged my
way amongst the damp towels, I realized what I'd first perceived as a mulling
muck of Cocks and Balls was actually an orderly queue of Bareback Tops intent
on breeding the Young Twink.
"What's with the Kid?" I asked the
Dude up next to dip his wick.
"A PNP Boy who's overdosed," came his
educated guess.
"Then how cum he's strapped in like that?"
"Must be a Cum Addict as well. Look. Do me a favor. Save my place. I'll be right back. I gotta piss."
"No, wait. I
know that Kid. He's into
Watersports. Piss down
his throat, then fuck his Ass." Word spread like wildfire.
And so it was that one Top after
another, the old, the infirm, the obese, and the diseased, joined ranks to fill
both the Youngster's Holes with Piss and Cum. I saw the Kid take five
dirty Loads at least.
Of course he had it cuming. Justice rendered is justice
deserved. They hadda take
the Kid down a notch. The Punk was
simply too goody two-shoes.
I watched a pair of "Old
Trolls," with purple KS lesions dotting their bodies, shoot up the Young Man's Butt. He was sure gonna be sore in the
morning—not to mention the AIDS VIRUS
which would make his life a Living Hell.
I had to smile.