THE BLESSED SEED
It
was the late 90's. I was 35;
married; 3 kids; a good boy, always trying to please; more (or less)
faithful to my wife, to whom I'd been married for 15 years; providing my family
with a steady income from my run-of-the-mill accounting job. And I hated it. Still I was reluctant to give in to my
homosexuality, regarding it as a blemish on my character. But my hormones often got the
best of me, and I ended up at the bars and baths—rarely—but with increasing
frequency.
I
developed an affinity for blowjobs, which progressed to getting laid. I was always the passive one, the
Bottom. Back in those days, to my
detriment, I played it safe and hardly ever fucked without a
Condom. After each tryst, I felt
guilty and ashamed, but on each occasion less and less. And I kept fucking my wife bare.
Just
when I didn't want to go on with such duplicity, becoming more and more
conflicted everyday—just when I was seriously considering leaving wife and
kids—salvation came in the form of a new job, offering 200 travel days a
year. With a generous expense
account and a salary I'd heretofore only dreamt about, I jumped at the
opportunity. Ironically, I kept our family together by keeping us
apart.
I
became very creative at seeking out the most popular Gay haunts—the leather
bars, bath houses, tearooms, rest stops, parks, adult theaters, and
bookstores. I left no stone
unturned. I grew comfortable in my
new role as a kinky, if somewhat masochistic Bottom, a sometime Slave, but
always the Slut. During my trips
home, I played the role of loving husband fucking his wife, while cuming to
reveries of Male Cunt.
Sucking,
felching, rimming, along with the ubiquitous Poppers became my daily
regimen. I got fucked more and
more. I developed tastes for spit,
watersports, armpits, feet, and B&D and S&M. I loved Gay Sex and invited guys to my hotel rooms all hours
of the day and night. Still I
couldn't get enough. I started
fucking bare on the proviso that they pull out. Of course there were the inevitable accidents. I knew I took a risk since I
always bled when I got fucked.
I wasn't yet amenable to taking Cum up the Ass, but more and more that
turned me on.
It
also turned me on fucking my wife, sharing the risk, whispering sweet nothings
in her ear, as I pumped my NEG Gay Sperm
up her straight Pussy. I'd hinted
at an occasional Gay rendezvous, but never breathed a word about bareback
sex.
Gradually
my guilt and reluctance dissipated as I sacrificed quality for quantity. I no longer had to strive to be a Cum
Pig; I HAD BECOME ONE. I felt
powerful and bad. I manipulated
the Tops who thought they were manipulating me—into barebacking—in hopes
that one or both of us would be inseminated with the Blessed
Seed.
And
I continued to fuck my wife—with my Fist and up her Ass. How she raved about our new "open"
relationship—the little Fool—my meal ticket to the family values so
treasured by the outside world. I never told
her how I'd cum to worship unsafe sex.
The turning point came when I got invited to a party in
L.A. I emailed the host and
asked if barebacking were permissible. He wrote back that he and several buds actually
preferred it that way. Sometimes
they had special little get-togethers for barebackers, and there was one such
Friday night. He never actually said the words “Conversion Party.”
I told him I was a relative newbie to group sex. "On the contrary, I think you'll fit right in. Be here at eight, and we'll talk it
over.
Marky seemed an all right kind of guy—not pushy, just hospitable. He assured me I'd enjoy myself. And no one would force me do to anything I didn’t want. That sounded great.
"But Marky, are
your buddies NEG?"
" Who really knows his status, Sport? Just get here early, and we'll talk."
On
my drive down to L.A, I thought a lot about getting POZZED. There
seemed to be distinct advantages—no longer having to worry about the Bug was
the biggie that came to mind. And the disadvantages were too morbid to contemplate. Maybe POZ was not nearly as NEG as it was made out to be.
It
was a little after eight when I rang the bell. I was stressed from the long drive, and Marky noticed it.
"Have a Cola,
and let's share a joint.
Help you unwind. I got some
other stuff. Ecstasy, GHB,
Coke. Just ask.” I took a few tokes, and he suggested I
clean up.
I
told him I didn't do drugs, but I’d love to douche. He flashed me a quick smile. "Trust me.
Chems have their place.
They just make it a little easier to accept ourselves."
Afterwards we shared another joint. We were looking at the profiles of his bareback friends as he chatted online. Marky whispered in my ear about how beautiful I was, how I deserved the Gift, and other bullshit, and gave me another Cola. Foggy as I was, I didn’t think a thing of it. He told me he hosted a party every month or so. He usually invited 15 or 20 guys. Five or six regulars always showed up; the rest, depending.
"I start
inviting guys around 6 PM, by phone and on the Net. The party starts at 10. The guys who can make it pop in anytime between then and 6
AM. I'll try to get hold of my
friend, Nigel. He lives right down
the block," Marky smirked, massaging the PreCum
pooling on my Piss Slit all over my Dick Head.
I felt so warm and comfy. I lay on the mattress besides the computer, jacking off, watching two Studs go at it on TV. The music was growing deafening; the room lights seemed to dim; and, overall, I felt quite pleasant and relaxed. On hands and knees I crawled over to Marky and sucked his Dick. He none too kindly rammed it down my throat. "Horny Pig! Must be the GHB. You're feeling it."
"But I didn't
want to do drugs!" I protested, thinking of the next
drug test. Actually, I felt
downright evil, hot, and sexy. I
often have a problem with the gag reflex.
But that night, no problemo at all. I wanted him down my throat, but he pushed me away.
"Not yet, Cunt! I know you want it, but not nearly bad enough. Time for a pill, an XTC. The GHB got you horny, but you're way too laid-back. Take this, and you'll be fuck meat for the guys when they arrive."
As
I popped it down my throat I exploded.
"I
WANT TO BE RAPED, DAMN IT!" Marky gave me a devilish grin. "Give it to me, please!"
The doorbell rang. There was a commotion in the hall, followed by silence. Marky told me Nigel had gone to take a shower, and it was time for us to play. He knelt down to rim me and kissed me as he entered me.
"My God, Your
bare Cock feels so good in me!"
He
gave me a joint and then his Poppers. The drugs, combined with my predilection,
had rendered me a total Slut. I
wanted him to cum in me. But
once again Marky spurned my advances and pulled out. He told me to turn around. I hadn't heard Nigel enter the room. I was astonished. He must have been 6’, had the
deepest, darkest eyes I’d ever seen, the widest mouth, beautiful muscles, with
an incredible 8 inches topped by a massive PA. He was perfection personified! I crawled over to him. He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up. He was like a
faucet forcing Spittle down my throat. He commanded me to suck his Dick. I took a lengthy hit of Poppers as he
ground that huge Tool down my throat. Was I imagining things or did intense Gregorian music
fill the room as Marky massaged something up my Butt?
"Just a little
aid to relax your Pussy." But it didn't feel good at all. My Butt was on fire!
"What the
hell..." I started to protest, but was silenced
in astonishment as Nigel ordered Marky to work a Butt Plug up my Ass—in tandem
with his uncut Cock. Nigel was
pissing down my throat, while Marky twisted the latex Dildo in besides his
Dick.
"YEAH, BOY!
WE'RE GOING TO IMPREGNATE
YOU!" Show
him the Dildo, Marky." It
was slimey and BLOOD RED.
"He's
ready now, Marky. Cream
away."
Marky
gave me another sniff, but it wasn't Poppers.
"Coke!" Marky
grinned. "Like
the stuff up your Ass.
You'll be a better fuck for it."
Marky plowed my bleeding Butt while I sucked Nigel's mammoth Cock. He pissed again.
"Yeah,
Pig! Swallow my sick
Piss, you Filthy Slut!" Needless to say, I was preoccupied when
Marky shot his Cum in me.
With
the pervasive music, the twirling lights, Marky's tongue in my ear, his POZ Spooge dripping off my hairy Balls, and
Nigel's massive rock hard Rod fucking my face—I imploded from sensual
overload. I started to cry.
Marky
spoke in singsongy, condescending voice.
"Your
first big test, boy; and you passed it well. Let's take a break."
"NO BREAK!"
I screamed. "I WANT IT NOW! I WANT NIGEL TO RAPE MY ASS!"
Nigel
took my face between his hands, looking deep into my teary eyes.
"BEG FOR IT, SLUT!
BEG FOR MY AIDS CUM!"
I
didn't even hesitate. I searched his
deep black eyes. "IF THE DEVIL EXISTS, NIGEL,
YOU'RE IT. Just give me what you
got. No ifs, ands or butts."
"You sure,
Slut? Once we start, there's no
turning back. I always finish what
I start. So be sure. Be
very, very sure."
"I'm sure," but
suddenly I was scared. The drugs
were wearing off. It was still
early—9 PM. I could make a break
for it. As I watched Marky and
Nigel prepare the Sling, I plotted my escape. I pulled on my trousers, grabbed my tee, and made a
mad dash for the door.
The doorbell rang. Shit! Nigel turned and saw me. He tackled me, inadvertently bloodying my nose, and drug me to the Sling. My fate was sealed. I'd met my match. There’d be no escaping now. To add insult to injury, I had rug burns on my knees, and puked all over my bare chest. Dressed in black leather, an Asian Twink named Tuan came, in, took in the scene, and helped bind my feet and hands and clean me up.
Marky
prepared another Cola, adding a vial of GHB. He dug another XTC down my throat. It was either swallow it or choke. Tuan took a sniff of Coke, then sprinkled some on my soiled,
bloodied handkerchief and held it tightly to my lips while Marky pinched my
nose.
As
you might expect, Nigel plunged his enormous pierced black Cock up my Ass,
Marky's Cum the only Lube. I felt
his P.A. searing me. While Marky
kissed me, Tuan sucked my Cock. I
came as Nigel exploded up my Ass.
Marky felched me and we kissed—our lips a crimson kaleidoscope of Cum
and Piss and Blood. After that
Tuan took his turn and dumped yet another POZ LOAD up my Ass.
The
rest was almost anticlimactic. It
was 10 PM. The party had barely
begun, and already I'd been bred.
More guys came in. I was
only half awake. I don't know how
many Loads I took, but one thing was for sure: I got POZZED that night and two weeks later was laid up with the Fuck Flu.
Feverish though I was, my joints protesting every move, I screwed my
"shield of respectability," while fantasizing about Shit Holes
and Mancunt.