Andrew's erection was pointing straight out, tenting his tight cotton 'Spongebob' briefs. Hard as a pencil but only six year's old. It happened every morning. So, dressed in just his little undies and white socks, he flips back the duvet, jumps out of bed and heads downstairs.

"Mommy, it's doing it again" he begs in his young, quiet voice.

"Oh hello trouble." says mom as she loads up the washing machine, "..come here then".

Scooping him up, she sits him quickly on the top of the washing machine as it began its cycle.

"Lift up your bum" she says matter of factly. Andrew does so obediently, lifting himself up on the palms of his hands.

The Spongebob briefs are pulled down to the knees without ceremony and the 6 year old penis bounces up noisily against the belly, nuts small and tight below. Andrew leans back on his hands. Mum cups the small ballsac with her left hand and gently grasps the foreskin between two fingers of her right. He looks down curiously as his mummy rapidly masturbates his boycock, just 3 inches long and skinny. She focuses on her work, massaging the little nutsac while applying just the right pressure up and down the shaft of her son's penis, reddening it, especially near the tip. She leans over a little and spits onto the end of the member, changes her grip to lubricate the little boy penis all over, then continues long, tight strokes inside her fist.

She watches her little boy smile and relax happily as the machine under him vibrates heavily. His little mouth opens and from it emerges a barely audible sigh. She feels the little member twitch inside her hands and immediately lets go. She watches the penis pulse with the boy's heartbeat, glistening in the light, little balls pulled up tight underneath.

She reaches down and pulls up the briefs just as quickly as they came down and releases the waistband with a 'snap' against the hips. She lifts him up, pops him down and tells him to go play. He runs upstairs, slips into a pair of loose jogging bottoms and a pink t-shirt, adds his shoes and heads back down and out into the large grass garden. As he trots along, his long (for a boy) blond hair pushes back against his head in the breeze in the outside sunshine. He's not muscular and certainly not fat, but not so skinny either. He has a cute button nose with light freckles.

Grandad is busy down the other end of the garden, a good 100 metres from the house, working in long grass around some holly bushes.

"Hello Andrew!" he chirps as his a hand inside a gardening glove grasps a small fork and he pushes it into soft soil near his feet.

"Hello Grandad. Can you have another look at my thingy like yesterday, Grandad? It seemed to help and it's still the same".

Grandad looks down to the boy's crotch. Just like yesterday, the soft material is barely concealing a distinct hardness inside the boy's underwear.

"I suppose these weeds will have to wait. Come on then."

Andrew pads alongside the old man who takes his hand and looks down at him. Grandad opens the door to the shed a little further down the garden. The door closes behind them and Grandad bolts it. There's a small, dirty window covered in cobwebs and the little boy is lifted up to sit on a toolbox just in front of it.

"I don't know why you bother getting dressed some days" says Grandad as he lifts the t-shirt up off Andrew's outstretched arms revealing his soft white chest and tiny brown nipples. Specks of freckles around the shoulders from the recent sun. Andrew leans forward to be supported by the man's shoulder as he reaches to the waistband of the boy's bottoms and, gripping both them and the waistband of the briefs at once, pulls them both down leaving the child's lower half as naked as his upper. Settling the boy back down on the toolbox, he efficiently pulls the jogging bottoms off the legs. He gently holds each leg firmly as he removes each sock. Andrew sits smiling in the dappled light, smiling brightly. All his clothes lie discarded and unloved in a pile in a dirty corner of the shed. The hard little rod trembles a little, drawing the old man's keen attention.

"Back to me, please, Andrew" the man commands, used to people doing what he asks. The boy swivels round on his bum, stretches out his legs before they hit the wall, and lifts up both arms where they reach behind the man's neck as a firm arm lowers across the boy's bare chest. As the gardening glove lowers to his hairless genitals, the boy looks up proudly at the man stood behind.

The glove, ripped in places, covered in black soil and with small rubber grip around the thumb, closes tight around the 6 year old's penis. The rubbing starts, much harder and more vigorous than mum's. Before long the inner thighs, lower belly, scrotum and penis are glowing pink as they come up against the rough fabric several times a second. The arm tightens around the chest, pinning the boy down and back, gently all the same. Grandad makes sure he hits into the balls each time the hand is at the base of the shaft. The little nuts respond by sliding gooily around in waves inside their sac. Grandad likes to rub the little member raw and won't stop until it's visibly glowing pink with young pumping blood, hiding only just under the thin young skin of the organ.

Grandad's breath grows heavy as he settles into his task, watching the boy's reaction closely. Andrew's eyes roll back and close, his bum lifts up slightly off the toolbox, and Grandad quickly releases his gloved hand as the little prick convulses in dry joy.

His pile of clothes pushed in a bundle into his arms, naked little Andrew is pushed out of the open door back into the sunshine, his bare feet suddenly cold on the wet grass. A voice from behind the closing door tells him politely to be on his way.

Dressing quickly, he goes inside to see mum, sat relaxing with a cup of tea. "There you are. Right you, in the car. It's football today, remember?"

As his mum reaches over to fasten his seat-belt, her hand brushes the top of a still-hard penis. She looks at him disapprovingly to which he replies with a cheeky grin.

After the soccer practise, the coach gives a brief reminder of what to practise in the next week. As the 15 preteen boys strip off, he tells them to work on penalties and corners. All of them bare chested, most of the football shorts have come down now, and about half of the briefs. Once suitably naked in their own time, they run into the hot showers, splashing about and soaping up. All aged 6 or 7, they have a range of bodies from athletic to overweight, a mix of white, black and mixed skin tone, but united in the hairlessness of their bodies from the neck down. Some penises longer than others, most of the boy's tips hide inside a slender foreskin, but a few are cut.

One of the children catches the coach's eye as he dries off: because he's sporting a full-on boner. As he moves to dry his legs and his back, it bounces around wildly in front of the kid as the coach watches from a distance, getting hungrier.

Taking far longer to get ready than the others, there's a brief chance to have a little word with Andrew just before he puts on his trainers. The coach takes it.

"Andrew: in my office for a moment please"

"Yes sir"

The office is across a hallway, well away from the main changing room where the remaining boys are variously fastening shoes, sliding arms into coats and pulling up underwear to hide their precious jewels. The windowless door closes tight behind Andrew.

"Do we have a little problem, mister?"

"Ummm.. no sir?"

Without warning the coach reaches quickly under the t-shirt, grasps the top of the jogging bottoms and abruptly pulls them down to the knees. Inside the Spongebob briefs, the child's erection is clearly visible.

"I said do we have a problem, Andrew?"

"Ummm.. it's OK sir. I'm sorting it out." the child sniffles, a little scared.

Wordlessly the man moves to a chair a short distance away and sits down.

"Here".

Andrew shuffles over nervously.

"Get undressed"

Not knowing how to escape this, Andrew pulls off his top and jigs the jogging bottoms off his legs, now stood just in his briefs and socks. The coach reaches forward, his confidence in open contrast to the boy's reluctance, and lifts up the kid by his hips. Deftly he turns him onto his stomach and lowers his stretched body across his lap. The boy feels a pulsing heat emanating from the coach's crotch, just under where his own penis is protected only by the thin cotton of his underwear.

He feels the briefs pulled down just below his knees, exposing two perfect, soft and firm globes of boy bottom, squeezed together tight.

"Are you going to be a good boy?"

"umm...yes sir?"

A hand lands hard across the butt cheeks with a slap. Andrew's eyes become wet at the edges.

"I said are you going to hold completely still while I spank your bum? Are you?"

More sniffles. A few tears escape and splash on the concrete floor under Andrew's face.

"ummm"

Two hard whacks on the cheeks. The coach isn't spanking like it's a 6 year old across his lap: he's hitting with all his strength. The spreading redness is testament to the force. The boy yelps.

"Yes sir! Yes I'll be good sir!"

"Then not another word out of you boy. Not a word. We're going to redden up your bum to sort out that problem with your little boner. All I want to hear from you is gratitude. But don't spare the waterworks, this floor needs a clean."

The pain the little boy is made to endure next to is enough to make any man wince. A rain of hard slaps and whacks that lay into the fresh young fleshy bottom cheeks hard. Due to his age there's little fat to soften the blow. The coach watches the little arse carefully, aiming his blows carefully and enjoying the changes in colour. The little 6 year old's bum cheeks turn pink, then stripe red, then bruise into purple and dark blue, especially at the bonier bits of the seat. The boy is held firmly in place, whimpering as his fresh 6 year old bottom is loudly slapped without mercy.

As the beating continues Andrew, distraught, bites his lip and a steady stream of tears drip readily from his face onto the dirty concrete floor. The child's throat produces a series of light, quiet groans and soft, tearful animal-like whining in drawn-out stretches.

The coach, emerging from a mist of horny rage, gets a grip of himself and stops, realising his mum must be waiting outside by now. He lifts the boy by the hips back onto his feet. Quickly opening a jar of sports cream, he digs out a glob with his hand and smears the cooling gel over the little boy's rear as he faces him. Andrew looks down, upset and confused. The coach reaches down and pulls the briefs up high, covering the erection that continues undeterred. Andrew feels some of the cream start to seep into his Spongebob briefs at the back.

"Sssssh little fella" the coach says, adopting a comforting tone as he gently hugs the nearly naked child, hands behind his back and around his head, stroking the blond hair, still slightly wet from the shower.

"sssh it's OK now" and the boy wets the coaches shoulder with unhurried weeping.

He holds the boy in front of him once more.

"Good boy. We'll sort out that little problem, don't you worry. What I did will help, OK? But no telling mummy, got it?"

"Yes sir" The boy replies quietly but immediately, wary of hesitating.

It isn't his mum but his dad waiting patiently in the car outside. Andrew scrambles into the back seat and does his seat belt.

"I brought your trunks if you have the energy left for a swim today Andy?"

The boy brightens: he loves the fountains and slides at the pool. He'll be safe there.

"Yay, OK daddy!"

In the open-plan changing room, Andrew manages to get changed into his trunks quickly without anyone noticing his marked behind. He slips into tight, dark blue speedos that were bought for him when he was 5. His boy package is presented neatly between his legs, and the position of his penis is obvious: a rigid, round tube across the front. The tip of the erection ducks just under the string-pull waistband. Dad is in his speedos too. Pure black, his muscular frames shows them off well.

Inside dwells a large, fat penis nestled amongst thick, dark, rough pubic hair.

"Let's just finish getting you ready" Dad says as he pulls Andrew into a cubicle just off the main changing room, sliding the lock with a click.

Dad looks down at his son and gestures to his own adult-size speedos. Andrew reaches forward, pulling daddy's untied black trunks down under a pair of full-to-the-brim testicles that a bull wouldn't be ashamed of - and releasing a hardening cock.

Andrew cautiously watches it snake out in front of his face, filling with oxygenated blood, the spongy head stretching out of the foreskin and solidifying.

"Now hold yours out far as you can, Andy"

Andrew reaches down and unties the string on his blue trunks. He tucks his thumbs inside the front and pulls the material out stretched. Dad looks down as his son shows him his completely hairless penis pointing straight up inside the trunks, the tip now poking just above the top. Andrew looks up expectantly.

Dad strokes his penis expertly into its magnificent 8" glory. As he massages it, the tip is level with Andrew's nose. Andrew stands patiently, holding the front of his speedos away from his body as far as he can.

"Do a spit for me into my hand.."

Andrew watches his dad rub it onto his now gleaming cock. Daddy becomes excited quickly. A thick string of pre-cum that emerges is quickly dangled over the young boy's exposed penis. It slowly descends under it's own slimy weight, abseiling like a spider until it reaches the soft skin of the younger male's own erection. It pauses there briefly before dripping into the fabric of the speedos.

As the older man's breathing becomes deep, Andrew watches his dad push the tip of his throbbing hot member up under the leg of his speedos where his right leg comes out, rubbing up against the perfectly soft skin. The tip of the thick, veined penis is resting against the 6 year old's hairless willy. The head of it almost as big as Andrew's whole shaft.

Within moments the hole at the end of dad's sensitive tip widens. Both Andrew and his dad look down into the older man's urethra. Like cream up a straw, a gentle surge of translucent white semen spills over the top and out of the large penis. It pumps out steadily: not an ejaculation as much as an expulsion. It bubbles out of the shaft, firing no more than a few centimentres with each convulsion. It coats the young boy's genitals, gradually bathing them in spunk and collecting in a deposit just under the boy's middle.

They both watch fascinated, even Dad a little detached from the experience, as the stream of cum starts to subside. A couple of splashes later, daddy squeezes his penis from the base to deposit the remaining cream in his boy's little speedos. Andrew gently relaxes his thumbs held in front of him, closing his trunks back against his belly. A large deposit of his daddy's warm and slimy spunk now surrounds his little parts, the child's rod still raging hard. The child's immature testes are completely encased by his own daddy's live sperm, the same ones that made him, those testes prevented from absorbing his father's testosterone only by the fragile skin of his genitals.

As the semen thins, it starts to run down the little boy's smooth legs a little, escaping the middle of the trunks. Down the thigh and dripping onto the bleached floor at the knee. Andrew puts his small hand inside dad's and they walk to the paddling pool to join the other children.

Back at home later, mum's out and dad's brother is round for a beer and the rugby. Not wanting the distraction, it's an early bedtime for Andrew. Dressed in Sesame Street pajamas, he comes downstairs to say goodnight.

"You mind if I put him to bed?" asks Uncle.

No sooner is Andrew back upstairs than his pajamas bottoms and boy briefs lie both discarded way over the other side of the room and his pajama shirt is unbuttoned wide open as he's pushed back onto his bed. Uncle grabs an ankle in each hand and passes them up to Andrew. "Hold these little legs back please? Good boy. Far back as you can.". A smile spreads across his face as the soft, thin little legs fold back and the 6 year old's tightly squeezed pink anus comes into full view.

"Can we get those legs further back little guy? Good boy. Spread them wide.."

Andrew struggles to obey but with a little extra push from his Uncle to show exactly how he wants him arranged, manages to get in a position that gains silent approval. The boy's penis remains rock solid, pressed up tight and snug against his tummy.

As Uncle scans the room, he remarks to himself,"Now, what can we use?".

"What do you want up it, little guy? A pen? hmm.. no. Ah, a marker pen, much fatter do you see?". He holds a black permanent marker, nearly an inch diameter, up to the boy's face. "hmm no I think we can stretch that little hole much wider, don't you?"

Not interested in any answer, Uncle picks up one of the child's toys: a table tennis paddle. He leans down and wets the boy's passage with his tongue. Using one hand to spread the sphincter itself apart, he holds the handle of the bat, hexagonal in shape, up against the opening. He leans over the boy heavily, his face distracting little Andrew at the exact moment the handle first penetrates the little bottom.

"Are we going to get that little hole nice and open? You gonna help me open up your little pussy?" Uncle asks, again without waiting for an answer. As he speaks he forces more of the handle into the small body. He pulls back to examine his handiwork more closely. He adjusts the angle to line up with the kid's bowels.

"One last push Andy. Pull those legs right back and apart, and push your bum out hard as you can. Hard as you can". And the little boy scrunches up his face around his nose as Uncle watches the preteen's bottom tense up.

The handle is over two inches thick but Uncle is very determined and makes sure it disappears slowly, painfully up into the boy. The hairless hole reluctantly presses deeply inward. Then the sphincter gives way and the boy's weak muscled ring pops abruptly over the intruding object. It adjusts its own shape neatly around the enormous width and hexagon tube of the handle.

At last it's all in, and Uncle takes to moving the other end around in circles, pushing the boy's insides around in a most uncomfortable way. Keeping the handle fully embedded, Uncle takes to moving it faster before adding a vigorous 'mashing' motion. Rotating it through every angle, he watches the little boy's face as he bangs it hard against his backbone, then squishes the child's prostate, then lunges it forward inside and up toward the belly, then wiggles left and right at either side of the pelvis, which itself is not much wider than the intruding object.

"Good boy" says Uncle reassuringly as he now grips the tool with a fist and expertly maneuvers it painfully around the child's intestines before starting to pump it in and out. A particularly rough move squirts a quick, intense stream of bright red blood out of the bottom onto the clean white sheet below the boy's bottom, but at that point the anus also begins to relax and become mushy, reducing the boy's pain. He lies patiently on his back watching Uncle work on his bottom.

Adjusting his own position, Uncle moves onto one elbow and, spreading the hole again with the fingers of one hand, takes the bat in his other hands and makes the main motion an 'in and out' pump. The handle now covered in unmentionable fluids from inside the boy's exit, it starts to slide more easily. Uncle makes the pumps longer and the circles larger. On the inward stroke he stabs it down hard into the depths of the child's belly, digging it deep into the rectum. Before long he's able to extract the handle from the hole completely, pause to watch the anus gasp, red, wet and leaking for a moment, then plunge the whole thing back up with a firm and satisfying if squelchy thrust. The pool of red, brown and clear liquid under the boy's bottom starts to grow more quickly now as Uncle pumps the bottom fast and deep, attacking it with renewed determination.

Watching him accept his treatment but struggle with it all, Uncle soon feels a spread of wet warmth spread across the front of his own jeans. He pulls the handle out one last time, its length smeared with the boy's soft stools that have been pulled out of his bottom very prematurely. The boy's fluids dribble readily from his hole, now unable to fully close after it's ordeal, and run down the hairless crack before soaking into the sheet.

Uncle leans down and pulls the boys hands away from his legs; they gently fall back down, hands by his side. A brief suck on the boy's tiny hard prick, a quick wipe of the dirty area both on the child's body and the sheets, and Andrew's naked body, cock sticking straight out, is lovingly covered with the duvet and kissed 'goodnight'.