Peter's office space was filled with cubicles. Over thirty of them. Peter being a pretty high up executive had a cubicle that was more of an office. It contained two small arm chairs and a large desk and computer. Still, it was a cubicle, not a self contained office. People walked by all day and he could simply stand up to see across the entire office. Peter's desk also contained framed photos of his two sons and his lovely young wife. Now, at nine-fifteen in the morning, Peter sat staring at the photos. What had he done? How could he have allowed his boss to make him do such a horrible thing? Why had he complied instead of facing his own faults and accepting the consequences?

No doubt about it, Peter was being blackmailed, and he was smart enough to know it would only get worse. How could it get much worse than what he had already done?

Peter fingered the large envelope. Inside were naked photos of his sons. His own dear little boys. Shamefully it had been easier than he had ever dreamed. His wife was out for the evening, to a shower or something with her sister. Peter was in charge of his two bright, energetic boys. He put them to bed after giving them some hot chocolate with the knock out drops in it. He cursed himself and his boss all the while he did the dirty deed. All the while he waited, he felt sick to his stomach. His head hurt, and it felt like he wasn't getting enough oxygen. It was all stress and guilt. Peter looked at himself int he bathroom mirror. He was a good looking, clean cut young man with a bright career ahead of him. How could be bow to doing such a disgusting thing?

After twenty minutes, he went back into the room his son's shared. He looked around at their many toys and games.. a typical room of young boys. The boys each slept in a twin bed, divided by a table with a lamp. Peter went to his eldest son Jared first. The ten year old was growing up so fast. Soon he would be thinking about girls and fucking them. But for now, for a precious year or two, he was still a little boy...still innocent and sweet and pure. A tiny bit of drool clung to the corner of Jared's beautiful little boy lips. His long eyelashes fluttered as he shifted in his sleep. Peter reached down and gently shook the boy. He had to make sure he would not wake. The drops had done their work.

Peter pulled down the covers to reveal Jared's tee shirt and underpants. How slender and delicate the boys naked legs looked. The tee shirt had pulled up a bit to reveal the waist band of the underpants and a small pale expanse of little boy belly. How could Samuel Charleston be so sick, so perverted. He had demanded nude photos of Peter's two sons.

Peter gently peeled off the boys tee shirt, moving the boy's slender arms. He lifted the shirt off the boy's head and looked down at the child's smooth naked chest and small brown nipples.

With trembling fingers he took the waist band of the underpants in his fingers and tugged. They slid down off the child's slender hips, revealing the tiny penis and baby eggs. Peter felt like vomiting. He knew he had to work fast, or he would not be able to go through with it. All of this to protect himself. would he sacrifice his children to protect himself? He told himself it was not so bad. Just a couple of naked pictures. Cute more than perverted. More of a prank really than a sick act of depravity. He reached down and spread his ten year old son's legs a bit, so more of the little boy cock could be seen. Then he took his phone out of his trouser pocket and quickly snapped a couple of photos of his bare assed son.

He re-dressed the boy and then repeated the process with his eight year old. Somehow the boy's youth made it even more excruciating. Only eight and being photographed naked in bed, his baby dick on full display.

For some reason, now, sitting at his desk with the envelope in his hands, Peter's dick grew thicker in his pants He had been ordered to go commando under his suit trousers and he hated the feeling. His cock rubbing against the suit trouser material make the damned fucker want to erect. Something about the feel of the trouser material.

Peter's phone rang. He looked at it and blinked a few times. It was from Mr. Charleston! But he wasn't due in the young boss's office for a few minutes yet. He picked up.

"Good morning, Sir." he said, his voice thick and dry.

"Good morning, Cunt! Came in early, I see. Good. I like an ambitious, dedicated worker. We need to see about getting you a proper office." His boss sounded so young, like a teenage boy, his voice husky with testosterone. "You can see if you look up, that I had cameras installed so that I can watch you as you work in your cubicle. That's how I knew you were in. Those cameras are going to come in handy. Do you see those two metal clips lying on your desk, Peter? I want you to open your shirt and put one clamp on each of your fine big nipples."

Peter didn't know where to turn. The office was starting to fill with workers. People were walking passed his cubicle. " Hasn't this gone far enough, Sir?" he asked into the phone, trying to sound defiant.

"Oh Peter, you stupid little cunt. You'll be punished for that. We are just getting started with our games. I don't want any sass, not this early in the project. I need you to be obedient and enthusiastic. Now get your shirt open and get those clips on your tits."

With a huge sigh of defeat, Peter unbuttoned a bit of his stiff white dress shirt. He moved his necktie to one side and he placed one of the steel clips on each of his big pouty nipples decorating his well formed muscular pecs. It hurt sure, but not too badly. It was the utter embarrassment. Just as he was attaching the clamp to his right titty tip, a co-worker walked by.

"Morning Peter..." the young man said. Good thing he was studying some papers and didn't look in.

"Morning Kyle." Peter said back, turning in his swivel desk chair away from the cubicle opening. "Someone will see me, Sir. It could hurt your business."

"It's your job to make sure no one does. And besides, if they do...how can it hurt me? I simply fire the pervert who had been working here when I arrived. You end up being the freak who would never work again. Of course, then I'd be forced to turn you into the police as well for your past college indiscretion. Now, show the camera your nice tit clamps."

Peter held his shirt open so his boss could see the steel clamps biting into his tit nubs.

"Nice. Very nice. Now I am anxious to see the photos you took of your two darling little boys. Those boys are so beautiful, they could be movie stars. Who knows, perhaps they will be. But before you bring the envelope to my office. I want you to do something else for me. A couple fo things actually. You see, I thought of you this morning. See the nice cup of coffee I left for you on your desk? I want to you have that first. Oh, and see the little container of creamer? Well, it's not creamer exactly, it's my cum. I jerked off into the container just for you. Now I want you to pour the cum into your coffee and then drink it for me. That's about six loads of cum there, Peter. Let me tell you how I did that. I fucked about a dozen guys and gals last week, you see I swing both ways. I don't usually use a rubber, but on six occasions I did. I emptied the fuck slop from the condoms into the container and saved it just for this morning. Make sure to empty it all into your coffee. See if you like it as much as cream. Oh, Peter...lick out the container as well, we don't want to waste any."

Peter gagged and almost puked when he licked out the creamer container. The cum was thick and stringy and gooey and like paste. He gagged several times.

"That was rude, Peter. You'll be punished for that. Better get used to the taste of cum. Now drink your coffee."

Peter honestly didn't know if he could keep the foul mixture down. His tummy growled and rebelled at the sperm...or perhaps it was just his imagination. Peter was feeling quite confused. Quite fucked up.

"Good Boy, Peter, you've given me a nice big hard on. Now, while you enjoy your coffee, I want you to slide your hand down inside your pants and masturbate for me. Push your chair away from your desk, so I can see the action. Don't take your dick out. That wouldn't be proper, not in the office. Just slide your hand down inside the waistband of your pants and jerk your nice big dick for me."

More and more people were filling up the office space. The buzz of then chatting filled the air. People passed his cubicle every few seconds. Peter felt dizzy. He slid his hand down inside his expensive suit trousers and began to finger his naked dick. It was bad enough not being allowed to wear underwear...but having to play with himself. Now his nipples tingled and burned from the clamps. Playing with his dick must have stimulated them. He drank more cum coffee and rubbed his dick. It grew thick and hard.

"Nice and hard, Peter. I can see it quite clearly through your trousers. Get it leaking, Peter. Get that big prick leaking! Tug a little on the tit clips to get your fucker leaking."

For some strange reason, Peter thought about his wife, whom he loved dearly. He thought about his two boys who were the world to him. Someone passed and said hello. His hand worked at the big dick in his pants. He felt the pre-cum dribble out. "Sir, I am leaking. It's going to stain my trousers. Please, Sir. I can't have it stain my trousers."

"Don't worry about that, Cunt. Just keep jerking that dick. I want you to shoot your load. A nice morning release. Did you fuck your wife this morning, Peter?"

"No Sir." Peter hated talking about his wife and kids to this monstrous pervert. For some reason his dick felt close to cumming.

"Did you fuck either of your son's this morning, Peter?" WHAT A FUCKING STUPID PERVERTED, SICK QUESTION. "Peter I asked you a question. Answer please."

"No, I didn't!"

"You didn't what, Peter. Explain clearly please."

"I didn't fuck either of my son's this morning, you sick bastard."

"You'll be punished for that. No, I suppose your sons were busy sucking and fucking each other this morning before school."

"Jesus, Sir, they are eight and ten. Please don't talk about them that way."

"Oh, come on, Peter. You're the one who took bare assed pictures of them. I hope they are good shots. I hope I can clearly see those nice baby peckers. Something about a little boy's clean, young, innocent little dickie that I think is so sweet. Come on, Peter, shoot your load. Shoot your morning load into your pants."

"Please, Sir! Please don't make me shoot in my pants. It will stain them!"

"You heard me, Cunt, shoot your load!" Peter came. He came his pants. It was a huge load. Peter usually shot copious amounts of sperm. His wife complained in a kidding way that she couldn't handle all the jizz. Peter arched up in his seat and grunted. He always came heavy and hard. He groaned and splattered his batter into his pants.

"Good girl, Peter. Now stand up and bring the envelope to me in my office." Peter got uneasily to his feet. The whole room spun. The office had gotten to work...it hummed.

Peter looked down. Just as he feared, there was a large wet spot on his trousers right where his dick hung. It had made the material so thin and clingy, that one could easily see the shape of his big dick head.

"Put the envelope in your teeth, Peter and your hands behind your back, and walk to my office!" Mr. Charleston's office was across the office. Peter would half to walk this way through the entire office, passed thirty or forty co-workers, most of whom he knew quite well. The sticky cum caused the trouser to cling to his flaccid fuck meat.

Samuel Charleston sat behind his desk, smiling as he studied the photos of Peter's son. Somehow Peter had made it to the office. He knew that ten or eleven people had seen the huge spot on his pants. He wondered what they must be thinking. No one had said anything, but he was eyes go down to his crotch as he passed by. But he had made it to the office.

"Which little fucker do you think is hotter, Jared or James?" Samuel asked Peter, who was kneeling naked in front of his desk. Peter had been ordered to undress the moment he got into the office. "James, who is what, eight, has such a soft sweet baby face and youthful body, I would say, he is the more fuckable of the two. But James is so slender and sexy. He is just at that age when boys are kind of like young colts...And such a cute pecker on him. He is going to hung like his daddy, I can tell."

Peter has ceased begging his boss from saying foul things about his sons. It did no good, in fact it seemed to egg him on. He tried not to listen to the disgusting words.

"Yeah, Peter, young Jared is going to be a real girl fucker when he gets a few years older. He'll be fucking cunt by twelve, that's for sure. Boys should start fucking at eleven or twelve, as soon as their balls drop. Why waste all those fine years? Looks like Jared has nuts already. Is he shooting yet? Ten is still quite young, but maybe he has his daddy's fuck potential. How old you were you when you fucked your first cunt, Peter?"

"I don't remember, Sir." Peter hung his head.

"Of course you do. Of course you do, Peter. A fella always remembers his first fuck. Now how old were you?"

"Sixteen, Sir."

"Sixteen? Did you have a nice big pecker at sixteen? Were you the envy of all the boys int he locker room?"

"i was...I was okay."

"Okay? You are too fucking modest Peter. We need to break you of that. You should be proud of your manhood. We're going to help you with that. Do you know where we are going for lunch today? We are going to the gym. I am taking you to my very exclusive gym. A nice work out, and then some lunch. What do you say? You'll be my special guest."

Peter looked up at his young handsome boss. "I didn't bring any gym gear!"

"Not to worry, I have everything you will need. But before you go back to your office work. I want to give you your homework for tonight. Your homework for tonight is to get a couple of nice photos of yourself with your boys. I want to see you sitting naked on the bed with your legs spread wide. I want to see your naked boys lying between your legs with their cute little heads on your thighs...one boy head on each thigh. And I want their sweet little faces pressed to each side of your dick! Make sure their noses and lips are touching your dick, but also make sure I can see them clearly, don't bury their faces in your fucker. Be delicate. Smile at the camera. I want a long shot, so I can see you and the boys on the bed. And then I want a close-up of your dick and balls and their soft little faces."

Peter could barely speak. "My...my wife will be home tonight."

"Well, then, you'll just have to give her a bit of the sleeping potion as well...a bit of the knockout drops in her glass of wine or whatever. You can do it. Now get dressed, Peter and go back to work. Leave the titty clamps on. OH my, look at that huge stain on your pants. That is certainly unsightly. And remember our luncheon date at the gym!"