Cyberboy

Made Myself
Into a Boy-Slave

Chapter 1

Is that gay enough for you?

It's every parents nightmare how a curious kid can find all sorts of picture sites and stuff on the internet. A few months ago I was looking up anime sites for some Japanese cartoons I like, and came across some shota-style artwork. In case you don't know, shota means boy-sex stuff, either with a girl or a woman or a boy or a man, or some kind of weird, tentacled monster too, actually. It's for pervy people who like boys and want to do sex-things with boys, and the stuff available is either single-drawings or comic-book pages (Japanese comics are called manga) in like, a whole story.

Right away, I didn't really like the ones with a boy and a girl or woman, ick. But I totally liked the ones with a boy and another boy, or a man. Those were hot to me, and I searched around and found quite a lot. The boy in the drawings sometimes sucks dick or gets his own dick sucked, but he almost always gets fucked. I thought that was especially hot. The manga stories always started the sex-scenes (the best part) with, like, the boy screaming and crying his head off at being fucked (whether he'd actually wanted to get it or not, from the start of the story), but by the end, he was always liking it. A real common theme in this stuff is Force, like where the boy is held down or gripped tight, or even ganged up on. Another thing they like to show is bondage, where the boy is tied up so that he can be fucked by the guy (or guys) who want to do it to him without having to hold him down and fight with him so much. The bondage stuff, like if it's a story, the boy is always drawn like it hurts a lot and doesn't always come-around to liking it by the end. That didn't matter to me at all actually, because right off the bondage shota became the fave stuff for me look at. I always saved bondage art like that and I could even endure some of the girl or woman-stuff if it had particularly good bondage 3; as long as they were doing stuff to a boy.

I also liked it more when the boy who was getting it looked really young, like my age, because what always gave me a boner was imagining that I was the boy that was getting it! For real, I would look at this stuff on my computer and pretend like it was me that was tied up and getting raped or tormented in some sexy kind of way. Not only was I thinking a LOT about sex at my age, but I also had the weird idea that sex for a boy was mostly getting fucked up his butt, which would always totally hurt at first, but gradually become something that he really liked. Except sometimes he wouldn't because maybe it was too hard or something. It didn't matter, either way was OK with me, because this stuff always gave me a hard-on! I really liked the idea of a bigger boy or a man pushing me down with my wrists tied together behind my back, and then lifting up my legs and pushing them down so that my knees were against my shoulders so that he could utter sexually molest me! That was a word, molestation, that always got me excited 3; I mean super-stiff, hard boner-excited. I totally wanted to be molested. I totally wanted to fall into the hands of some nasty perv who would wanna have sex with me soooo much that he'd tie me up and make me do it even if it was hurting me and making me cry. 'Cuz I knew for sure that, just like in the shota, I'd be liking it a ton by the end.

I was now spending a lot of time on my computer. There are always new links to follow to find other sites. It was easy to find the boy-love and man-boy love sites and find out what it was all about. Any kid nowadays knows at least something about pervs, y'know, that they exist and all, even if kids don't know exactly what it is they want to do that makes them so bad. Well, now I knew, except I didn't think it was so bad at all. Pervs wanna have sex with boys, well that was OK with me, that seemed reasonable. In fact, I totally felt that what I needed was a perv in my life!

Anyway, there are sites where people post messages and chat and say all sorts of things about boy-love (or BL as they mostly call it), and some of it, like, a lot, is really boring! For instance, some of these places have lots of photos posted by members, with my fave kinds of pics being the ones where the boy is in shorts or underwear or speedo swimsuits. I had no idea what a speedo swimsuit looked like until then, but right away after, I wanted to wear one and look sexy like that. So the photos weren't boring, true, but members would post comments to go with them and mostly say stuff about the 'purity of boys' and 'innocence' and how much they'd never hurt a boy or do anything but cuddle or whatever. There were some guys who would write stuff that was extremely hot like, 'That boy is too sexy not to get fucked like he totally deserves!' But then they'd get harassed by the cuddlers and told how wrong they were to think like that and stuff. I always thought this was pretty fake by the way that the piccys of the boys that were nearly naked were always the most popular.

Not everyone who said he was a cuddler would just cuddle if he ever got the chance, I figured.

Either way didn't stop me from downloading lots of pics of boys and older boys and some men! I really liked the ones where a younger boy (meaning like me) was with an older boy or with a man. Because that meant to me that they were, ok, totally having sex together, always, without fail, every time! That's the way my own pervy little mind went.

I did like pics of boys my age and a little older, especially the sexier ones where they're posing kind of like they want to get thoroughly molested. But mostly I filled lots of folders on my computer with pics of older boys and men, specially when I could see the really cool dicks in their speedos and especially more if they were particular strong-looking, muscular guys. I was majorly into that, I was an utter size-queen boy-faggot 3; I wanted my guys hot, hung and muscular! And then I started finding porn-story sites and porn-picture sites with real naked pictures of super-hot, mega-muscular guys with their incredibly big, ultra-stiff'n hard, totally naked man-cocks! Have you ever licked your tongue against a computer screen? 'Cuz I sure have!

There was more too. I even came across porn-chat sites and BL chat-sites where the guys weren't always so nice about what they wanted to do with little boys. Definitely HOT! There really is a ton out there that kids my age really probably shouldn't ever see because they will become totally perverted like I am! Too bad I'm sharper at my computer and how to use it and its security and stuff than my parents.

I loved reading some of the sex-stories and sex-chat and learned a lot about these things that I just knew I wanted to do. I saw pics of cock-sucking (mostly man on man, but some boy on man) and knew I wanted to do that. Some of my fave pics ever are of a boy my age sucking a really big cock and then having cum explode out of his mouth and then splashed on his face. I totally thought of the boy in that picture as 'lucky' that he was getting to have sex already. Any time I saw a picture of a younger boy having sex, I didn't think of him as abused or exploited or whatever that 95% of the wusses at the BL sites would say (whether they meant it or not). I always thought of him as a lucky kid. Even if the man had his hand behind the kid's head like he was making him do it, that was ok by me! Even if it looked like in the picture that the boy wasn't really enjoying it at all, it was OK to me because I knew that deep down he really was and just faking it that he wasn't. Besides anyway, I thought it'd be utter shota-coo' to have a man make me suck his cock. I wanted men to make me have to do stuff like that!

I would sit in front of the computer in just my underwear (both my Dad and my Step-Mom have jobs so I've got a lot of by-myself, home-alone time) and I would open my few pic-files of a boy my age sucking a dick or getting fucked, and I would rub myself and jerk off and push a finger or two up my butt and I'd tell the boy on the computer screen over and over what a lucky kid he was to get to have sex already! I loved reading stories about boys that were made to have sex. I read stories and mangas about fathers or teachers or whatever who would sell their boys for sex to other men, and I thought that was hot! I wished I had a dad who would take sexy pics of me and would have sex with me and let other men have sex with me. I know it sounds weird, but getting molested and exploited and made into like a sexy little boy-whore was exactly what I knew I wanted! The idea of being a boy-prostitute on a dark street corner wearing sexy-tight leather shorts and a t-shirt and getting picked up by strange men in cars who would do whatever-they-wanted to me actually did scare me a little because of some of the really ick-things in the stores that would happen to the boy. But that kind of danger was also what really turned me on about it! Barely eight-years old or not, this was all stuff I wanted to do. But I also figured I'd like it lots better if a man still made me do it!

I started in on chatting and posting messages myself a little while back. I made a yahoo ID that said I was older than I am (18) but that I look a lot younger and that I like to act younger, like 13, and want to have sex with bigger guys. I posted a pic with my cell-phone I took of this really cute 15-year old guy that goes to a high school near to my school, and who looks like he's in junior high. He wasn't exactly my type, I'd rather get dragged into the locker room by the football team. But from time to time, I sort of stalked this kid to get other pics of him to send to guys who wanted more pics of 'me.' I figured I could pretty easily sound like an older kid with my chat-writing style, and I was right. Everybody's lying about something on the net anyway. For me it was reverse role-playing because I knew that no one would believe I was eight-years old anyway, even if I admitted it. Or if they did believe it they'd leave skid-marks running from me since I'd just have to be police jail-bait. I suppose there would be utter desperate and die-hard pervs who wouldn't, but I figured those kindsa guys were too stupid for me to waste my time.

I did mention that I was really smart, right? Ok, admittedly this took a few tries and failures before I figured out how to do it for the best results, which was Hot Guys writing back to me about how much they wanted to fuck my brains out!

This all became kinduva obsession. I was having constant sex-dreams and sex-thoughts. I started sleeping with my arms and legs outstretched like I'd been tied to bedposts and pretending being all scared that a man who'd kidnapped me was gonna rape me. I had tossed my old boxer-style underwear (that my parents had always bought for me) and switched to sexier bikini-briefs. I really loved briefs and got to where I just wore a pair of briefs as my pajamas for bed. My parents would tell me to get ready for bed and all I'd do is take my clothes off and then maaayyyybe wear my bathrobe too. I was an eight-year old kid, so they didn't think it meant anything like what it really meant! For me, it was boy-code to say, "Hey Dad, you know you could actually fuck me if you want!"

Mostly, I knew that pervs pretty much always thought a kid in briefs was sexy, and I wanted to look sexy for pervs.

The school I went to is a private school with uniforms (white shirts, ties and dark blazers) where you can either wear matching dark pants or shorts. I switched to shorts, and I mean shorts that were definitely shorter than the other boys' shorts. Kind of like the sorts of shorts a Japanese school-boy in a shota-drawing would wear. I could stand the teasing because while I always got the highest grades I was also decent at sports, and so wasn't a total geek. Most of the teasing came from older boys and frankly, all that meant to me was that older boys were noticing me 3; which was so very cool! And besides, a few other kids my age started wearing shorter shorts too. For gym, I now exclusively wore lycra-spandex shorts, also kinda sexy short; and of course I also got myself a bright red, size 22 speedo-bikini for swimming that fit me tight and hot so that it looked like wicked sex when it was wet and clingy.

How my parents could not realize that all these switches and new purchases meant I was a drooling fag that was desperate for man-Dick is beyond me. After all the stories I'd read, I could not believe that my Dad would not sneak into my room late at night, get on my bed on his knees with his legs on either side of my shoulders, and then wake me up by lifting up my head to make me suck his cock. Then he'd throw aside my World Wrestling League sheets and pull my pyjama-underwear off and stuff them into my mouth so that my Step-Mom wouldn't hear me screeeeeem as he fucked me good'n hard while telling me to stop crying because I deserved it!

It was all becoming too much. A finger or two up my butt wasn't cutting it anymore. I fell in love with some of my Dad's tools, slicking up the handles and pushing them inside me. I played definite favorites with this Philips head with a particular long handle, spurning the desires of the other tools! It always hurt at first to make it go in me, but I didn't care. Like a good shota-boy I knew that if it hurt that was because it was supposed to because I was so little 3; and anyway, I'd be liking it enough by the time it was over. So yeah, I blush a little, but I liked it sooooo much! Masturbating wasn't about jerking-off for me, it was about pushing something up my butt and then back and forth. Still, this was all just OK, but not exactly satisfying, I mean, for as much as I understood what satisfaction was. I'd read about climax and orgasm and knew I was too young for that. When exactly is it over when you're pushing something up your butt by yourself? I sure didn't know, but what I did know was that I needed to get good and fucked by somebody for real soon! Like in the porn-stories, I needed to have hot man-sperm shot into my mouth and try to swallow it all and have some run down my lips and drip off me; and I needed to have hot man-sperm explode up my ass! I just knew it! And the likeliest candidate for the job was my teacher at school.

It helped that Mr. Greyson was super-sexy, in his twenties and he works out a lot. I've seen him in his gym clothes when he takes us out to the field and he's got a really strong, muscular, great body, and I totally wanted him to molest me total majorly and fill me with lots of hot man-sperm! How many stories have you read about a teacher or coach who teaches a special student how to suck a grown man's cock and then how to get fucked by a grown man? Yeah, me too! So I figured this was the likeliest prospect, particularly also that it seemed to me that Mr. Greyson liked me a lot too. And by that I mean, liked me in that special way, y'know, like he wanted to have total man-boy sex with me. Mostly because I noticed him noticing me after I'd started dressing like a sexier boy. And I checked and he didn't have any girl friends even though he's hot and I figured that meant that for sex he liked to perv on his class of schoolboys all day and then go home to jerk off with the thought of all of us in his mind. Did he moan my name as he finally climaxed and shot his sperm with desperate visions of me tied to my desk all naked for him to molest me and shoot hot man-sperm all deep inside me??? Ohhhh, I sure hoped so!

So finally, one day after school, I was alone in the classroom with Mr. Greyson. Everyone else had dashed of but I'd stayed behind to finish up a homework assignment (which I usually polished off in school so it wouldn't cut into my computer-sex time at home). Realizing that it was twenty-seven minutes after the last bell which meant we were really alone, I went up to his desk to talk about a book report that was gonna be due in a few days. I stood real close to him and could smell his scent which by the end of the day was a combination of perspiration and cologne. I always loved that smell 'cuz it's just so strong and manly and it totally turns me on, and today was no exception as I got a real fierce boner in my shorts. My shorts are not only short, but they also fit pretty snug, so if you looked you could sorta tell when I got a stiff boy-dick. But he didn't notice, or didn't act like it anyway, and just snapped his fingers to get me to pay actual attention to the stupid school-stuff he was telling me.

I tried to be listen close and ask reasonable questions that would prolong this scene and keep me right up next to him so that he would notice that I had a boner and so that would naturally make him realize that I absolutely wanted him to make me suck his really big man-cock! And then he'd also figure out that what I really wanted was for him to bend me over his desk, pull my shorts and underwear down my legs and majorly fuck my brains out! That would be supremely dirty-sex story perfect!

Ok, I wasn't stupid and I did know it wasn't gonna be as easy as in those crazy stories. He's a teacher and absolutely not stupid and so he's not gonna do anything that is gonna get him in serious trouble go to jail for molesting a kid. And so I knew it was first gonna have to be up to me to make him know that it was OK for him to molest me and how I'd keep his secret and never tell! And yes, I also knew we probably wouldn't actually do it right there in the classroom (although that would be cool!), but I'd have to go home with him, or he'd come home with me or maybe we'd go somewhere else. I understood all that.

My only problem was that I was still a little shy about being a gay-boy back then. I know I made it sound easy, but it was hard for me to wear my shorts after I first got them, and my speedo and even briefs-as-underwear because almost no boys wear briefs-as-underwear anymore 3; boxer briefs, sure, but not bikini-style briefs! According to some of the harder stories I've read, my sexy school shorts alone would be indication of my total faggotiness, and would be practically an open invitation with me just asking some pervs to snatch me and rape me violently! And I knew how sexy I looked in my speedo and how much it was like wearing a sign saying, "Little Faggot, Right Here!"

All of which would be ok because I actually wanted that sort of attention, just not all the teasing. But eventually, sure, I conquered my fears about all that and just wore them. Curiously enough, this led me to finding out the amazing truth that most everyone really doesn't think at all the way I do about this sort of thing, or even the way all the guys in these sex-stories do. Most people didn't notice or care, and even the kids at school got over it soon enough. And also, I mean, it's like there I'd stand in front of the mirror in my speedo and think how I must look just like utter-sex and would totally deserve it to get majorly molested, and then I'd walk by to go swimming and my Step-Mom would look at me and say how I looked all so cute and adorable.

But true, she was a girl so what did she know?

Despite all of this, I was having a hard time figuring out what to say to Mr. Greyson. I couldn't bring myself to blurt out the sort of stuff that the boys in some of the stories do like, y'know, the ones where the boy is a total boy-slut? It'd be way too embarrassing to just come and say, "Oh Mr. Greyson, why don't you teach me a lesson on how a boy takes it from a Real man?! I want to learn how to spread my legs for you and be your best student ever!" But unfortunately, that's exactly the sort of lame thing I'd always dream of saying to him, which was why I was now so tongue-tied.

In my own head, he should already have taken charge by now. His big, strong hand should have reached out to the back of my head and pulled me in closer as he said, "But I don't want to talk about school work anymore Danny, I want to talk about YOU! I want to talk about how much I enjoy seeing you every day and how much I think about you every night. I want you to know that I know that you wear those very short shorts for me. I know you yearn to be a special boy with a special man and I know that what you want more than anything is to be molested 3; to be molested by a man!

He is supposed to go on like this. "I can't resist you anymore, Danny. Though it could mean the end of my job and even jail, I would risk anything to have you! You are the boy of my dreams! Of all the boys I have ever taught, you are the hottest and sexiest and cutest! Yes, it is true that I am a perverted teacher who has wanted to have sex with young boys all of my life. But never before has the urge been so uncontrollable because of you, Danny. I must have you 3; only you!

It would be awesome because he would be covering my face with hot kisses as he slid my school jacket off, deftly removed my tie, and then my shirt so that he could caress all over my chest and stomach. In one motion he would lift me onto his desk and unsnap my shorts to lower them down slowly, revealing my boy hardness in my tight-fitting underwear. And he would say, "You are perfect! I love a boy who wears bikini-briefs style underpants instead of boxer-briefs! You look so sexy in them that I cannot resist 3; I cannot wait to take you someplace safe! Even though it is stupid dangerous, I must molest you now, right here in class! Other teachers, your soccer coach, the principal 3; we have all talked about you! We all want you! But only I will have you!"

I'd hear him say I am the sexiest boy alive several more times as he glides my underpants down and takes a tube of special anal-lubricant-for-boys out of his top desk drawer and then prepare me to receive the awesomeness of his thrust 3; !

But instead, I tried to look utterly interested in everything he was babbling about the lesson-plan while I sort of kept posing myself a little and even spread my long, stick-slender legs in what I thought was a sexually inviting way. Nothing I did though could stop him from talking about sentence-structure, and it was becoming an emergency now as my stiffie boner was finally going soft on me. So I moved right up to where he was sitting, and I breathed in his smell again and it was like I got a little drunk on it. My boy-dick got nice'n hard and without thinking, my hand kinda moved to it and I rubbed it a little through my shorts. He noticed at first just that I'd got awfully close and that I looked kinda space-out, so he snapped his fingers at me (which was a thing he did to get attention) and then was about to push me back a little. But he paused for a second as he saw and realized what my hand was doing and I just suddenly reached out with my rubbing hand and grasped his and pulled it down so it was pressed against the boner in my shorts and I said to him, "I'm listening 3; I really want to learn everything from you, Mr. Greyson!"

Well, that stopped him cold, total loss for words until he sort of stammered to ask what it was I was saying. I stepped in even closer, about to climb onto his lap so that I could feel his warmth and he could feel mine. All of my nervousness just kinda flew away and I said a line right out of the sex-stories and my dreams, "Sir, I love you and I've dreamed of you and I want you to teach me everything that a man and a boy can do together!" Without waiting for a reaction, I reached down to unsnap my shorts and let them drop to my feet to show me in my underwear (I was wearing absolutely brand new, silky-white, bikini-style briefs that I'd saved for special), stiff as a boy can be. "I want to be your boy, Sir. You can have man-sex with me and even shoot your hot sperm inside of me 3; and I promise I'll never tell and always keep it a secret!"

Well there, I'd gone and done it. I'd totally offered myself to him, hitting all the important notes: that I loved him, that I wanted to be with him, that I wanted sex with him and by "sex" I totally meant that anything he wanted to do was OK! But I'd also added that I wasn't stupid and understood about security and safety and stuff like that. So in my opinion, I had totally done my job! I completely expected that he would now take over. His hand would press against me and he'd stroke my stiff boner through my sleek underwear and he'd look at me and smile and he'd know for sure that I was the boy of his dreams! I just knew he had pervy thoughts about all of the boys in his class and I just knew I was his favorite, and now he knew he could do everything he'd ever dreamed of doing with me!

I wondered if he'd want to have me suck him off first or whether he'd want to start right off with fucking me. It didn't matter to me, I'd do whatever he wanted. If it was to suck him, I already knew I would totally do my best to make sure to swallow all of his cum! And if it was to get fucked by him, I knew I'd keep telling him how much I liked it, even though I knew it was gonna hurt because I'm so small and 3; ohhh fuk, he's so big! I just closed my eyes and sort of blitzed out a little at imagining all the things I just knew he wanted to do with me. How many times had I sat in class and day-dreamed about him molesting me over my school-desk. It was a little conspiracy I had with my desk, imagining all the ways I could be positioned over it. My favorite was on my stomach, over the front of it, with my arms pulled down so that my hands were below my chair, and my wrists were tied together with a rope so that I couldn't get them back over the seat. My legs would be pulled apart, with each one tied at the ankles to the front legs of my desk. I'd be naked, of course, and he'd push our history book underneath me to prop me up so he could get at me. Slooooowwly he'd rub in some special anal-lubricant-for-boys while I whimpered with my underpants stuffed into my mouth. Then he'd start to push into me, steady and forceful with his brutally long, stiff, thick, ultra man-Dick 3; and I knew my eyes would be clamped shut and full of tears! I'd just barely manage to open my mouth enough to let my painful cry of a boy being molested for the very first time in his whole life ever be heard. Just for my teacher's ears, Mr. Greyson, who'd know that I'd asked for it and I deserved it and I was taking it and being brave for him because I loved him so much.

And just like that, my dream disappeared. His hand slipped to my waist alright, but only to stop me. He pushed me back, hard, and I fell down because it was so unexpected. He was angry 3; pissed off really, and he stood up and he kicked my shorts back over to where I'd fallen and he ordered me to put them back on. I was scared, this was so far away from what I'd ever imagined that I completely gave up on thinking and just scrambled to do what he said. And as soon as I was dressed again, he grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me to the front office where he recounted, in terse, ugly words, what had just happened. The Principal looked at me sternly, so did everyone else in there, and I felt small and ashamed and terrified. My whole body was trembling and I was crying too, of course. They put me alone in a little room and called my parents to pick me up. I guess there was a discussion after they arrived, but I only overheard the yelling parts. At first they were in denial, but Mr. Greyson repeated his story verbatim. I got yanked out of the room and with my eyes downcast, I admitted that it was all true. My Dad was adamant at making me totally say it out loud that I was a little faggot who wanted to have sex with a man! He did this mostly by shouting the most repulsive statements he could think of at me and demanding to know if that's what I really meant! I'm pretty sure now that he didn't actually want to hear the truth, and would have much rather that I said it was all some kind of twisted joke or any other kind of lie.

I don't know if the School really had any official rules about this sort of thing or not, but they said I was automatically suspended and would undoubtedly be expelled.

My father was insanely mad, not only at being dragged from his beloved office (he's one of those kinds of guys who loves his job), but even more when he realized he had a 'little faggot' for a son. It was utter silence from me on the drive home, even though the insults and horrible statements flowed freely from the front seats. This was all personally humiliating and insulting and embarrassing to them, and would undoubtedly impact them severely in their chosen professions as well as their social standings. I had screwed them over completely in my perverse desire to get screwed by my teacher!

We got home and I was ordered to my room and I ran, frankly, and closed the door. Dinner did not enter my mind, and later I figured it might not be real smart of me to eat anything they tried to give me anyway right now. Of course I sobbed like a baby at how terrible this had all gone and seriously wondered what, at eight-years of age, I was now going to do with my life. I could hear my Dad and step-mom going at it because they were both so loud and full of anger. They weren't arguing though, they were just going on about how I had ruined everything and what they were going to do with me. My Dad made it very clear that he hated having a son who was a faggot and would love to be rid of me. My step-mom (who was never more than fake-interested in me) mostly just said stuff like how they were stuck because of the law, and so they'd better work out some kind of plan. There was talk about finding some particularly awful boarding school.

I stayed in my room because I honestly thought that my dad would really hurt me if he saw me that night 3; and totally not 'hurt me' in any kind of good way. I finally fell asleep but tossed and turned and woke up several times, finally for the last time a little before 5:00. I was certain now that I had to run away. My parents hated me and soon all my friends would hate me and my teacher hated me and it was all hopeless. Staying here would be a nightmare, I'd figured that out. I had a plan, maybe not the best one possible, but at least it was a plan. So I packed some clothes in my school backpack and broke my piggy-bank which actually had a few hundred dollars in it. Then I switched on my computer, volume down, and set about to delete everything. I activated my security scrubwear and cleaned it all up because I did not want to leave traces. I knew how to do that, I'd found a lot of info from paranoid BL's about how to delete traces and I had the best scrubwear available. All of my files were organized and set for this. My computer had been primed for total deletion of all the sex-stuff for quite some time. All that accomplished, I crept downstairs and then towards the front door. Next to the door was a small table and stacked on top of it were five hundred dollars in twenties. There had never before been money left out like that. One of them, or both, had figured out that I'd probably try and run away, and so I guessed it that the message to me was, "Yes, go you little faggot! Take this money and go away as far as you can! We never want to see you again!"

And as simple as that, I did it.

Chapter 2

Once in Manhattan, I entered a net-café, got a table with a little privacy, got a coffee and muffin, got a look of surprising non-curiosity from the cashier, and logged into my special accounts. Stay with me here, I said I'd deleted all traces of this stuff, all my fake-ID's and accounts, from my computer. Deleting all traces of this stuff forever is pretty close to impossible. But no one would be able to find my fake ID's and accounts from anything in my computer and my room, which pretty much means no one could ever find it. Anyway, I looked up this guy I knew, Brent, that I'd chatted with before. Now if Brent was everything he said he was, that meant he was in his twenties, was already a pretty successful artist, worked out every day and was tall, strong, muscular, and hot. I knew he was totally gay as he corresponded regularly with my 18-year old persona who looks younger and wants to be 13. He doesn't know that 18-year-old-me knows how he also likes to go to BL sites and other, more pervy boy-sites, and jerks off to pictures of some really young boys, as well as some really hard stories. I had, in fact, corresponded with him as well with one of my pervy-older-guy personas (which I was never able to carry on for very long) in which he shared with me an incredibly hot, bondage sex-fantasy he had that involved the cute Sprouse twins when they were, y'know, younger.

This made him pretty close to A-List Material for me. And if he really did look like his picture, then I would happily jump into his arms. Yes, this was my plan. Find a hot guy who likes little boys and finally and for real have hot, steamy man/boy sex! What exactly sort of plan were you expecting??? Ok, also, I hoped that he would like me enough to let me move in with him. I wasn't so stupid that I didn't know it was dangerous for a kid my age to be alone on the street, and I for-sure didn't want to be sent home to my parents who hated me. I was like any other kid, really, I needed a safe and nurturing home environment in which, y'know, I would be loved and cared for and get fucked up my butt at least once a day!

So I sent Brent an e-mail as the 18-year old me, telling him my tale of woe of how my parents threw me out of their house when they found out I was gay. So I came to NY and I was hoping to meet him and how I wasn't actually trying to, y'know, move in with him or anything, but that I would like to meet him and maybe he could show me around and I could figure out what to do next. I figured that if he hadn't lied about everything that this would work and that he'd at least be willing to meet. I knew if I wrote to tell him, "Hey Brent 3; great news! I am an eight-year old boy who is dying to meet you and suck your big and beefy cock and get my brains fucked out by your big and beefy cock!" that I might as well just say, "Hi Brent, I'm the F.B.I. and I want to ruin your life!"

Anyway, I checked the message to be sure it was hopeful without being totally pathetic and then sent it off. I then went off for a walk and came back an hour later and logged on again and there was no reply. Well, that sucked, as Brent was usually pretty quick to write back to 18-year old me. But it was not unreasonable, even to me, that he might feel a little nervous about actually meeting someone. But it was heading to lunch-time and I was wondering what I would do tonight and where I would stay if I didn't get to stay with Brent. The money I had wasn't enough to stay in NYC for very long, and I didn't even know if a kid could get a room in a hotel!

I went back out for a walk and tried to think up other ideas. Mostly, they involved meeting some guy somewhere that would let me at least stay the night. But I was not thrilled with the idea of just seeing what would happen and what kind of guy it might be. It could get very unsafe and very unhealthy for a kid my size. My fantasies about being some kind of hot, sexy boy-prostitute kinda fell apart against the scary reality of it. I knew there was no way I could do anything to defend myself if things went bad. For that matter, it was the same situation with Brent, really, but I at least had a good feeling about him.

When I came back to the café after 2:00 and signed back on, there was a message for me from him. Being basically smart, he figured out what I was suggesting and didn't promise anything like a commitment, even for just a few days because, y'know, we both didn't really know each other. But he was concerned and worried for me being alone and wanted at least to talk to me and help me out. So he said he'd meet me at 4:00 in a Barnes and Noble on 14th Street and we'd see what happens. I signed off, cleared my history and looked on a map to find out how to get there. It didn't seem that far and as I wasn't ready to try the subways on my own, I walked it.

Brent had given me a description that he'd be wearing a black jacket, black leather pants and black boots, and would be carrying a portfolio (because he'd be coming from a client's meeting). He said I also already knew what he looked like from the pictures he'd sent, and he already knew what I looked like. Needless to say, that news cheered me up quite a bit, though I felt a pang of guilt that I'd lied to him about me 3; but I guess I figured I could manage to make it up to him somehow. Brent showed up a little early, and I'd been there for a while already and was deep in a book. But I saw him stroll past me, mostly because I noticed the long, lingering (but kind of, y'know, hiding it) look he gave me. I always like it when guys look at me that way and usually notice and wonder, hmmm, I wonder if he wants to have mad-crazy sex with me? But this time, I though to myself, oh gosh, that's Brent!

I caught up with him in the fantasy-fiction section and walked behind him for a bit and kept noticing him noticing me and then turning away and this went on for a bit, actually. I was pretty naturally terrified that I'd say something wrong and he'd haul me up to the front desk cash-register and tell how I'd tried to be a faggot with him and report me and the police would come and it would be a disaster. But finally, I figured that just wasn't going to happen and so sucking up all my courage, I stepped beside him and whispered, "uhmm, Hi 3; I'm Danny. No really, I am. Thanks for coming for me."

This time, the look of stunned surprise was entirely expected and so I waited for him to blink this time, and as soon as a smile started to form on his face, I put my hand in his and said, "I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Uncle Brent. Let's go home."

I don't think he was really thinking clearly at first, and so we just walked out of the store and headed towards where he'd parked his car in total silence for a whole block until we were close enough for Brent to pull out his keys. Then he finally spoke, turning to me and quietly stating the obvious, "You're a lot younger than I expected."

"Yeah, I know," I whispered back with a smile. We were now next to his car and there was no one around us, but I still whispered. "I didn't want to say, y'know, the truth 3; because I didn't want you to be afraid this was some kind of entrapment thing. See, I know about that stuff. And I wanted to be careful, but I also really wanted to meet you because it is true that I am gay and my parents threw me out 3; well basically, yeah. And seeing you now 3; wow, I really want to be with you! Ok?"

He unlocked his Mercedes and opened the door and I quickly climbed in, hopping from the driver's seat to the passenger seat and maneuvering my hefty backpack behind me. The windows, by the way, were mirrored so you couldn't see in. After he took a long sigh like he had no real, firm idea what he was getting into or whether he was being smart, he started the engine and pulled out into the street. He told me he lives in Westchester in a house he inherited from his Father. He started babbling then, frankly, just filling the car with chatter so as not to think too much about what was happening and what might happen. I realized I was making him nervous, oh cool. But I figured I should do what I could to change that, so I undid the snaps of my shorts (modest, long-shorts 3; not my usual sexy kind) and then pushed them down my legs. Brent looked alarmed and asked what I was doing and I said how I wanted him to see me in just my underwear, so I also took off my collared shirt. I reminded him that no one could see into the car and then stretched out my bare legs. "And now you can see that I'm not wearing any kind of wire or recorder or anything and look," I said as I reached over and took his right hand in both of mine and pulled it over to place it against my underwear. "Not even the F.B.I. can use a kid like this to trap someone, right?"

Instinct took over for Brent and he started right way to feel me and rub me and stroke me and real quick, I had a stiff boner in my underwear, just because of him. I got a hard-on so fast 'cuz a man was fondling me through my underwear. I didn't say anything else at first, just letting this go on while he drove. But finally I nibbled my lower lip a little, and then just flat out said, "Ok, my name really is Danny Wyckham but I'm really only eight-years old and I'm in the second-Grade, but that doesn't matter because I'm also totally gay and for me that means I totally want to have sex with a man. So that means, Brent, that when we get to your home, I hope that the first thing you do is fuck me wild! And I hope that you really want to fuck me. And I hope you want to fuck me a lot and I really hope you'll let me stay with you and that you'll fuck my brains out every day and let me be your total boy-lover and hot sex-toy. There."

I'd said it all in one breath, everything I'd ever dreamed of saying to a man since I'd learned about what kind of boy I really wanted to be. After I finished, there was a very stark moment of silence.

"That's quite a declaration," he finally replied. "Look, uhm, Danny, why don't you at least put your shorts back on." He said as he put his right hand back on the wheel. "I'm gonna cause an accident otherwise."

"Sorry 3;" I muttered as I reached down to pick up my shorts.

"Not that I don't want to fuck you, Danny," he quickly added. "I want to and I'm definitely going to as soon as we get home. If you've never been fucked before, you are definitely going to be fucked very soon! Ok, champ?"

I beamed back at him as I hitched my shorts back on. "Ok!" I gushed back eagerly, "I can't wait! I tried to get my teacher to do it to me but I guess he's not really a BL and I guess I really blew it there. But I bet it's going to better with you for my first time anyway!"

Brent grinned back, "You're kind of a boy-slut, aren't you Danny?"

Giggling, I tried to deny it, saying how I'm usually really shy. "But I figured that if I stripped and got sexy with you, that you'd know at least that I was for-real, I mean, a little kid 3; a boy who really wants to have sex with a man."

"Heh, you are an utterly amazing kid, Danny Wyckham, eight-years old. But tell me, what made you so sure that I'd even want to have sex with a kid as young as you? We'd never talked about that sort of thing, I mean, me and you as Danny Penning, the 18-year old version of you."

"That's true." I answered. And then I giggled, "But we sure did between you and me as Arthur Hansom, the 25-year old version of me."

He blinked and then said, "My God, you are a boy-slut!"

Brent's eyes and attention kept flowing back from me and the road. I suppose still being bare-chested made me look pretty attractive to him, which probably explains why we were driving pretty fast across the parkway to get out of Manhattan. Like a nice grown-up and totally respectable BL-site member, he started to go on about how he wouldn't hurt me or make me do anything I didn't want to do. That it'd be OK to take things slow and see how we both really feel about each other. Frankly, I was getting concerned.

"You are still going to fuck me wild when we get home, right..?"

"Absolutely," he nodded swiftly. "But don't worry, I'll lead you into it easy and slow and gently so that you don't get hurt and that you like it as much as possible."

"mmmm 3; cool." I agreed, and then we were both a little quiet as we drove past the big, George Washington Bridge and traffic opened up more.

"Hey Brent 3;?" I asked.

"Yeah 3;?" he replied.

"I know from the things you wrote to me when you thought I was, like, your age, that you're maybe into kinda ruff stuff? I mean, how you said the way some boys are just asking for it by the way they looked in some of the photos we shared, and the things you'd do to a kid like that if you had him all alone and helpless? I thought that was really cool! And from some of the pedo-sex stories I've read, like, where the boy gets kind of raped? And I've seen some shota drawings and c-gen images where a boy is really getting it kinda hard and, I mean, uhmmm. This is kind of hard to say 'cuz it's probably gonna make me sound like a real freak."

Brent sort of snorted. "Sounding any more weird is going to be pretty hard for you right now, Danny."

I shrugged. "Ok, so what I'm trying to say is that if you didn't real want to be quite so nice and easy and gentle with me 3; I sort of think that would be OK. I mean, ever since I read some of those stories and the things you told me and then some of those shota images 3; I've kind of had dreams about it where it was happening to me. Y'know, me getting raped. I'd imagine how I'd get kidnapped by this guy, and he gets me to his house and then he takes all my clothes off except mayyyybe just my underwear, and then, like, he ties me so that my wrists are tied behind my back, and then the guy carries me to his bedroom and pushes me down onto the bed and wrestles my underwear off me and then he just sort of, y'know 3; uhmmm, he fucks me. Escept not gentle, y'know, but kind of hard. I mean 3; more like he rapes me.

"If you wanted to do something like that, y'know, pretend that you've kidnapped me because you think I'm a sexy kid and you want to molest me and so you're making me do this stuff like suck your cock and then fucking me, and you do it a little rough, y'know? And I'm struggling against you but, ok, no chance there because you're so awesome big and strong, but my struggling makes you rougher with me and so that when you first went to do it, y'know, wham!" and I made a stiff fist-punch straight in front of me as an example of a dick-thrust. "And it would hurt, I know 3; I'm sure it would, and I'll probably cry about it because of how it would feel like that. But to have that happen 3; to get it like I was being raped for my very first time, oh 3; ohhh fuk, yeahhhhhh 3; !" I had to scoot my shorts back down and even my underwear, so Brent was pretty astonished to see that rather then jerk off my super-stiff three-and-a-half-inch boy-boner, I sat up and pushed two of my fingers up my tight boy-butt!

I squirmed in the seat as I rocked up and down on my fingers, moaning a little. Finally I pulled out of myself, licked my lips a little sheepishly, tugged my underwear back up, turned back to Brent and said, "So uhmm, yeah, if you wanted to make it sort of a game where you were pretending to be someone who was really mean, and made it so that my first time was 3; was like that, uhmm, that would be OK with me. Really."

Not wanting to be pulled over by the police under these circumstances, Brent drove home about as fast as he could. When we pulled off the highway and onto neighborhood streets that must be near to his house, I relaxed a little and threw another log on the fire (just to be sure) by spreading my legs really wide. Brent obliged by calling me a boy-slut again as he reached over to stroke me some more. More relaxed now himself, his fingers reached to feel me up between my legs, and oh wow, I kinda shuddered. It wasn't much longer before we pulled up to the gate that swung open at the press of his key-button and then drove up the long driveway leading to his surprisingly big house and then into his garage.

As soon as the engine was off and the garage door was closed, he reached over and unbuckled me and pulled me up with my back against the steering wheel, and he lifted my legs and I put them over his shoulder and he just sunk his face and licked me all over through my underwear and ohhhhh, it felt so good! Then he smiled and stroked my face and said I was the most beautiful boy he'd ever seen and he kissed me and said, "So, are you ready for your first fuck, little second-Grader?"

And I don't know where it came from, I guess from every boys-slut story I've ever read, but I managed a grin and put my trembling, little hands around his strong, broad shoulders and said, "Yeah teacher, I wanna get an A+ in gettin' man-fucked!"

That was it. He pushed the door open and dragged me out forcefully. I got rough manhandled over to a work table he has in here where he packages stuff up. He pushed me on my side and held me down while he cut off a piece of twine and used it to tie my wrists behind my back. "Listen to me and listen good, you little faggot," he snarled at me. "Everything that is going to happen to you is your own fault for being such a little boy-whore! I am going to fuck you so hard 3; I am going to rape you like you deserve! You are going to be the world's most molested boy in just a little while. I am going to fuck you harder than any boy has ever been fucked before! It's going to happen, you little second-Grader faggot, so don't bother crying for you mommy because there's nothing you or anyone can do to stop me!"

It sure sounded like he was playing the game exactly like I asked him to do it. But on the other hand, there wasn't a whole lot he was saying that wasn't true. I was here, all alone with him, and no one knew where I was or what was happening. He really could do whatever he wanted to me, and maybe it didn't matter how nice he'd been acting before. So if was still really thinking this was a game, I sure didn't have any trouble getting in character and acting scared and struggling just about as hard as I could.

Brent pushed me further back on the table and cut off another piece and tied my ankles together. Finally, he snatched up a rag and stuffed it into my mouth, and tore off a piece of thick tape to plaster it roughly over my mouth and cheeks to keep the rag in place. Then he hefted me up in his arms and declared with a fierce growl, "Let's start again, Danny, eight-year old boy brat!" And he carried me over and popped the trunk of his car open and dropped me in it and then slammed it shut with a, "You're mine now, boy! You're never going to see your home or your family ever again!"

Honestly, I thought my boy-boner would never get soft again. I had no idea whether this was real or still just a game. As far as my super-stiff hard-on was concerned, it didn't seem to matter. I was waiting in the dark all alone and tied up, wearing just my white-and-yellow bikini-cut underwear. And after maybe ten seconds, he made it even more intense because he had a speaker built into the trunk and he'd set it to play a recording of some other kid who was totally getting molested! For ten whole minutes I was trapped and forced to listen to this other boy, maybe my age, who was begging and crying and screaming and sobbing from getting what sounded like majorly raped! And all the time listening and wriggling and struggling alone in the dark 3; I knew that the same thing was about to happen to me!

The light was so bright when he suddenly yanked open the trunk again. I had to shut my eyes and I so nearly wet myself as he snatched me up and I'm sure he was smiling super-nasty at me. "Yeah, it's time for little eight-year old Danny the second-grader schoolboy to get raped for the very first time in his life! But definitely not the last!" He hefted me over his shoulder and carried me inside.

His expensive jacket and dark, long sleeve shirt were off now, but he had on a black leather vest that looked cool and showed off his arms and chest more. I gave my best to wriggle and squirm because by then I wasn't acting at all, I was totally terrified. He had no problem controlling me though and carried me up the stairs to his bedroom. He has a big, four-poster bed and he just dropped me onto it.

In seconds, Brent was attacking at my underwear, the only thing that protected me from being entirely naked and extremely rapeable, and pretty quickly had it ripped and torn to bits. A lot rougher then I'd imagined, Brent shoved two lubed fingers up my butt with a quick thrust and I cried out and my eyes teared up almost immediately. Ohh, that hurt a lot more then anything I'd ever done with myself, which was always lots more slow and gradual. He sneered at my sniffling, saying how it was going to hurt lots more when he raped me as he kept on rapidly pushing in and out of me with his two, long fingers. Just after I managed to get over the hurting-part and gasped like the way I do when I start to like it, he pulled out and then pushed me to the center of the bed and sat on top of me. Reaching behind me, he untied my wrists and then jerked my arms over my head and diagonal-spread them as they throbbed a little from the sudden rush of blood-flow. He scooted up me so that his weight was on my chest and it was crushing me, but he didn't care as he fastened restraints to my wrists that were looped around the posts at the head of the bead. With a hop, he was off me and first to one side of the bed and then the other as he adjusted and tightened the pull on my arms. I made sincere attempts at crying for help, muffled as I was by the gag. No doubt about it, I wasn't pretending anymore.

Next he untied my legs and pulled them wide apart and fastened restraints at my ankles, lifting my legs up at an angle, unlike my arms which lay flat. He tightened them around the back posts until my slender, small body was spread-eagle taut and I was naked and even though my little boner was still sooooo stiff, I couldn't believe this was really happening and was really wishing it wasn't! I couldn't mutter a word, but my eyes were imploring him to untie me and let me go and we'd just forget about the while thing.

No way! He slowly undressed before me, completely drinking in my terror and helplessness. He took off his pants and then his sexy bikini-cut underwear and ohmigosh, his cock really was big and beefy! Super-huge, and lots bigger than anything I'd ever put up my tight-boy ass before! It's totally porn-star big, more'n ten inches and super hard and it's the kinda dick where guys in the rape-stories tell the helpless kid-victim how he's gonna rape him to death! My eyes were incredibly wide and riveted on the big round bulb of his steel-stiff, mega man-cock! I just started to cry right then and there, and if I could manage to say anything, I would have been begging for my mommy and daddy to save me.

"You're my slave now, boy" he said as he got on top of me. "You're my slave-brat, fuck-toy boy-faggot to fuck any time I want!" A small pillow went under my back and he scooted it down to elevate my butt and then he got on top of me again, looked me straight in the eye as he maneuvered his great big man-cock against my tiny boy-anus, and then started to push!

"nnnnNNNNGGGHHHH!" I cried into the gag as I felt the tremendous pressure of his cock-head against me. He actually had more lube on his cock to make this, y'know, even possible, but it still took a lot of force as he really hadn't prepared me the way every boy in every story I've ever read is prepared by multiple fingers and dildos and all gradually building him open to accept the majesty of his first man-cock up his tight'n tender boy-ass. Not me though, I asked to be a shota-boy, gettin' my first-ever man-fuck like it was a total rape 3; and so this was definitely going to hurt! Already I was crying and my teeth were clenched together right through the rag, and then my mouth opened as wide as it could to gasp out a muffled scream 3; and then more and more as it felt like my whole body was being ripped wide open! My legs were already pulled painfully far apart and tied soooo tight, but I tried to spread them even more in the hope that it would help with some of the agony! If I weren't gagged, I know he'd be able to hear me say, "No please, don't do it! 'm sorry, Brent, but I can't take it! Please, oh please pleeeeeze stop! You're too big and I'm too little and 3; NOOOO!"

He could tell. Even though I was gagged so I couldn't talk, he could tell that I would've begged him to stop. I was everything that I'd asked him to let me be, I was all begging and crying like a total helpless, little boy. And no matter, he'd just gone ahead and fucked me real hard anyway!

GAHHHHH, his thick man-cock suddenly rammed it's way into me, almost the whole head at once and even through the gag, my scream was still awfully shrill. My head seriously snapped back on my neck and whapped several times against the mattress, while the whole of my skinny body practically leapt up from the bed and would have gone shooting off, I bet, if it hadn't been for the restraints! I wanted to screeeeem so loud and gave it a real good try, but the gag stifled most of the sound. Still, I know Brent could tell 3; he could tell that I was really hurting and totally in a ton of pain from what he'd just done to me! I thought sure he was gonna pull out of me, and oh gosh, I sure totally wanted him to because I never ever imagined it would hurt this much! But all he did was caress my face with a kind of mean gentleness and at the same time he kept all of the intense pressure of unrelenting sex-torture just barely within the ultra-tight anal-entrance of my tiny body. "You are being raped at last, my little boy-slave 3; how do you like it?!" he asked me in a really sinister, evil villain-like voice.

It was just the perfect thing for him to do. I had wanted it to be like this. I was tied up and I was helpless and there was nothing I could do! And he was gonna rape me for real and he was not gonna stop for anything! He knew it that he was hurting me and he still wasn't going to stop because if a guy really had kidnapped me to rape me 3; he wouldn't stop either. And so here he was, on top of me and just barely up my boy-ass with his ultra-hard man-cock and it felt like someone had rammed a big ol' baseball bat right up my boy-butt and I knew 3; I utterly knew that as bad as it was already, it was still gonna get worse for me and hurt even more! I remembered the way the other kid screamed in that recording when the fucking began in earnest. And I guess I really can't explain it real well other than to say that I was struggling and gasping and crying and writhing and major screeeeeching, and yet still I had a boy-boner that was more super-stiff than it had ever been before! There was no way I could have formed any kind of words to answer his question, but just him asking it and the caressing touch thing he was doing to my cheek against the torture-touch his Super-Hard cock was feeling inside of me somehow managed to toughen me up a little and I tried to stop crying quite so much and tried to stop screaming so much and I drew in, like, three long breaths and then bit my front teeth in fiercely into the gag and managed an actual glare with my eyes as if to say in words he could understand, "I c'n take it, Brent, 'cuz I'm a fukkin' boy!"

Oh yeah, and he sure did! His hands slapped against my skinny waist and he gripped me tight and then there was this steady PUUUUUSH to get inside me and I totally and really just couldn't take it even though I wanted to be utter brave and snarl back. It was just way more force and power then I could ever hope to withstand! man-Force and man-Power 3; and I was just a little boy. But way in the very back of my mind, and of course in my utter perv, little-boy way, that's what made it so majorly cool! In the front, I was crying and pleading for mercy, but in the back, this was the most awesome thing ever! Maybe somehow Brent knew that for sure, or maybe he was just gonna go ahead and do it anyway 3; rape me hard and see what happens next.

One thing I know for sure is that if we'd done this any other than me being so completely tied down to the bed and barely able to move and entirely helpless, I am dead-certain positive that I would have managed to find some way to get out from under him. It hurt just that much! 'Hurt' is just a blazingly weak word to describe what Brent made me feel. My little-boy arms and legs pulled frantically on the restraints, and my immature muscles were total flexed, and all of my puny strength was spent to absolutely no avail as he tore open my sphincter and anus with the ripping power of his manhood and did not relent until he had all ten masterful inches of himself buried deep inside me! In and In and in he went until I thought there was no end to him! Gag or no, I could hear my shrill screeeeem of total suffering just as sharp and loud and clear as possible! It seemed to me that more than the gag, that my cries were muffled muffled by the thick presence of his relentless man-cock forcing its way up through my neck and out of my gaping mouth! Tied up and all alone and forced to feel it like this, with my whole body engaged in struggle and pain and the total helplessness of a little boy against a Big man!

I will never ever forget the first time I was fucked! Brent made it totally supreeeeme!

"How do you like my thick cock inside of you, second-Grader?" he asked me. "Yeah, I always knew you were a little faggot of a boy who wanted his big teacher to make him stay after class and pull down his shorts and underwear and fuck him! You want all the teachers to fuck you, don't you Danny? You little slut of a boy, you're really loving this, aren't you? You love to feel dick! You probably haven't been a virgin since you were 5-years old. Your kindergarten teacher was the first to fuck you, wasn't he?! You love it prancing around in your little underpants and getting men hard so they wanna fuck you! Yeah, you asked for it, boy! You asked for it for a long time and now you're finally getting it! And you're gonna get it like this from now on, you little fuck-toy boy-faggot! Take it, brat! Take it! take it! take it!"

With a quick rip, he tore the tape off from my mouth and then yanked the gag out. But before I could even catch my breath, he started really hammering his massive manhood inside me in time to each "take!" And my eyes bugged and I reared back, my chest and stomach and shoulders and neck utter stretched, and I cried, "AAAAAAA!" to each mega-intense thrust! He was hurting me still, not doing anything to let me get used to it, not slowing down to be soothing or gentle in any way. He kept calling me names and using all the dirty words I knew and some I didn't. I was gonna be his boy-bitch fukkin' brat sex-slave faggot toy and I better get used to it 'cuz he is gonna fuck me hard like this every day and lotsa times!

"Please Stop Hurting MEEEE!" I begged but he kept up the steady rape-pace with angry thrusts like a clenched fist punching up into my virgin-tite boy anus! I was already in anguish when he gripped my tiny waist with both of his powerful hands to hoist me up a little so he could ram his way into me even harder!

I got to suffer like that for a long time, it just seemed like forever! Brent later said it was maybe fifteen minutes from start to finish, but for me it just seemed like I'd been fucked for my entire life. Nothing else had ever happened to me before I was writhing beneath Brent and pleading pitifully for the mercy of him just not fucking me so hard. But he kept grinding his merciless cock inside me like he wanted to rupture every part of me.

I tasted blood in my mouth as he continued to fuck me with terrible force, stabbing his giant man-cock deeper and deeper into me. It really felt like he was ripping me apart, like he was grinding my insides into red paste, and churning me and totally ruining me 3; all for his manly Pleasure! And from all that, I just started to scream because I knew I was going to die like this because it hurt so much and my little boy-dick was still so incredibly stiff'n hard, and I couldn't breath as my whole little body suddenly seized up. It felt like Brent had just suddenly squeezed my own boner and balls and pushed something back inside me that just exploded with a burst that shot all over and then like just twisted from where his super-huge man-cock was buried in me and then spread out to every part of my body! I reared up from this intense sex-lightning that lanced inside me and I felt my insides utter tense and clench around his massive invasion and all of a sudden, Brent jerked on top of me and his already huge erection pulsed and throbbed and actually got bigger in me! oh fuk

Chapter 3

Finally, I rolled over a couple times to the edge of the bed, and then threw my legs over the side and sat up. My body was still sore and I saw the chaffing on my wrists from where I'd been restrained. I was also still moist from sweat and dirt and sex and I wanted to get cleaned up. Brent had left my glasses on the bedside table and I put them on, stood up, and staggered into the bathroom. My legs and my balance really felt weird from feeling all that upthrust jabbing between them. Once through the door, I looked at myself in the mirror, and saw a skinny, small, eight-year old boy, with my hair a mess, and all sorts of parts of my body still red and bruised, soiled and dirty and with a trickle of man-sperm still dripping down the insides of my upper legs.

I just stopped and looked at myself for a long while, until I brushed my hair back into place with my hand and just grinned at myself proudly. "You are fukkin' awesome!" I said to myself. "You finally did it! You finally got fucked by a man 3; no, raped by a man! And it hurt so much, he fucked you hard, but you took it and you're still alive and he spermed up inside you! You've got for-real man-sperm up your butt from being fucked by a man! You took it 3; you took it all! You are an awesome boy! A fukkin' awesome boy!"

I quickly filled up the sink and did a quick washing up. I wanted to find Brent so much! Once I was not so grimy and yucky feeling, I nearly dashed out of the bedroom naked. But then I heard noises downstairs, kitchen noises 3; normal noises. And I figured I didn't need to rush so much. Checking back to the bathroom, I thought maybe I should do a better job of being presentable as a boy for his inspection. A little poking around and I found an enema kit which I put to proper use (we'd had one at home and I'd done it before), flushing myself twice and then using the toilet. I liked having Brent's man-sperm up inside me, but I thought he'd want me to be clean and maybe ready again. Again? Did I want him to fuck me like that again? Maybe not exactly like that, but then again, maybe I did.

I ran my fingers through my now real-short hair which I hated at first, to be honest, but I totally liked it that way now because that was how Brent first ever saw me. I grinned as I used a little Vaseline from the same jar I bet he'd used to slick up his man-cock for fucking me to gel my hair back into spikes. Satisfied, I rustled through my backpack that he'd brought upstairs, I guess, while I was tied up in the trunk (that had been soooo cool!). I pulled out my little, red, nylon speedo-bikini and put it on. It fit so nice and tight and, I knew, totally sexy!

I tied it snug and looked at myself again in the mirror. I only have a little muscle definition, and I really don't have hips or curves to my body at all. My little dicklet is no bigger or smaller than your average eight-year old kid's dicklet. My arms are very thin and my legs are just a little too long for the rest of me, starkly smooth tubes straight down to my feet. And I know that, sure, to a lot of people who might be looking at me like this, they'd think I was just a cute, little boy. I guess that's ok, I don't mind being cute. But I'd just gotten an awesomely good-looking and successful man to break dozens of laws to fuck me wild in his own home. So come on, how could anyone possibly think a boy who looks this much like he can get a Hot man to utterly fuck him like crazy could ever really be just 'cute'???

"You are fukkin' sexy, Danny! You are a super-hot, eight-year old, boy-faggot sex toy!" I said proudly as I continued to pose myself, admiring my own perky, smooth, round bubble-butt that, like Brent had said, was just made for tons of fucking! "You can take a big strong man fucking you supreme, and you're gonna do it a lot so you better learn to like it 3; no you better learn to love it 'cuz you're gonna do it every day. Mr. Brent is gonna fuck you every day! Yeahhhh, so cry all you want 'cuz it won't matter 'cuz he knows you wannit, you little faggot! You are 3; you're a faggot! 'Cuz you want man-Dick more than anything! And ohhhh, you are sooooo gonna get it whether you wannit or not! You asked for it an' you deserve it 'cuz you're such a little faggot boy-slut whore! Yeahhh, you are a fukkin' awesome, super-sexy, little faggot, boy-slut whore!"

I left the room and trotted downstairs, heading for the kitchen, and as I got closer, I could hear parts of a conversation he was having with someone on the phone. I came in the room as he was saying, "Well, I'm not sure yet, he's still sleeping. I don't know if he's going to be right for me or else for 3; hold on."

He took a very long look at me, the boy he'd earlier fucked so hard that I cried and I begged him that wanted him to stop but he kept on doing it until he fucked me so hard that I finally passed out. And he saw me standing there, cleaned up, neat and tidy, but not dressed in clothes like I wanted to leave, but rather practically naked except for a very skimpy, little-boy, bikini-style speedo with only one-inch sides and tight fitting so that my little boy-sex was clearly defined against the taut nylon fit. He looked at me for so long and with such a sense of desire that I couldn't help it, I got another boner in my speedo.

"Yes, he'll be staying with me," Brent concluded on the phone and then hung up.

Brent was preparing dinner in the kitchen, wearing just a smoking-jacket type robe that just came below his hips so I could see his strong muscular legs and his upper chest and arms and wow, he looked super-sexy to me! And the way he was staring at me in just my little speedo had me sure that he was thinking the same thing about me which made me grin like the Cheshire Cat.

"You like it?" I asked with sparkling eyes and an inviting pose with my right hip kinda thrust to the left so that it actually sort of looked like a for-real hip. I then made a turnaround, putting my smooth, bare legs together and standing a little on tip-toe to make my perky boy-butt really stand out. Then I stood again before him with my legs spread pretty wide, like I was totally asking for it.

Brent quickly agreed that, yes, he liked it. "To me," he said, "You look like the absolute epitome of blatant sex! You are a boy, Danny Wyckham, who is just going to have to get used to being fucked quite a lot!"

Strong hands effortlessly lifted me up onto the marble island-counter in the center of the kitchen and Brent began to pet me and kiss me. This time I really kissed back and it was weird at first when his tongue went into my mouth but I quickly found it was hot and I liked it, especially when we wrapped our tongues together and he sucked at mine and I sucked at his. In between I told him how I wanted to be his total boy-sex-slave and dress however he wanted and do whatever he wanted and how if he had any friends that like boys, they can all fuck me and do me like that, gang-fuck style! "You can tie me up whenever you want and play bondage games with me and pretend I'm Cole Sprouse and you take me down to the secret Basement-Dungeon in the Tipton Hotel and do just anything and everything you want to me! I'll still be your boy no matter what you do to me! Even if I say 'Nahh, I'm kinda tired and don't wanna get fucked, or how maybe my favorite show is coming on TV just then,' or maybe even beg you like, 'oh pleeeeeze Brent, it's been so much already and it just hurtzz now 'cuz I'm so sore so pleeeeeze don't fuck me anymore!', you should totally just go ahead and fuck me anyway 3; except maybe do it harder to me because I made it like I didn't want you to. Really ram it in me extra ultra-hard and don't care if you make me cry. And you should say something like, 'take it, you little fuck-toy, you're just a little brat boy-faggot and you don't ever get to say no to me or to any man!' No matter what I say, you should always do what you want because that's really what I want anyway!"

Brent put his strong hands around my skinny arms and pushed my arms back behind my back and close together so that it hurt. He leaned in close to me and said, "This is the way it's going to be, boy. I am a man, and you are nothing but a little boy! You will do everything I want, whether you want it or not! You are my slave-boy and if I want you to feel good, you will feel good 3; and if I want to hurt you, you will be hurt. But no matter what I do to you, I expect that little boy-prick of yours will get stiff and excited and boy-boner hard because it's me that's doing it to you! I will make you into the boy-sex-slave you want to be, and I don't care if you change your mind somewhere down the line because you are always going to be my boy-sex-slave!"

He kissed my passionately then, and I kissed back, despite the ache in my arms and the threats and the bigness of his tongue. He finally let go of me to rub his hand against my dagger-stiff boy-boner for a few moments and then he yanked me off the counter and set me down on the floor on my knees. "I am going to train you every day until you are the best little boy-slut in the world!" he said and I proudly agreed with a pleading moan how that was exactly what I wanted him to do to me.

I was backed against a bottom cabinet and Brent opened his robe 3; and my eyes flashed like camera lenses just before he filled my moist mouth with his big, juicy man-Dick and gave me my first ever lesson in cock-Sucking! I really didn't know what I was doing, and he had to calm me down from just trying to suck it like a giant straw. Brent told me to use my tongue to encircle it and lick it and just 3; just worship it, and let him handle the motion of pushing it in and out of my mouth. He'd tell we when to suck now, drawing my cheeks in to tighten my oral embrace of his awesomely stiff, powerful cock.

He kept his hands at my head, holding me and pushing me back and forth which sort of made it like he was forcing me to do this which we were both starting to realize I really liked it that way 'cuz it's sooooo ultra-cool! The first time he made it go down into my throat 3; oh fuk, that hurt! He had to push really hard while holding my head firm and steady, and telling me to swallow. And I could think of was, "How??!" but he kept pushing and there was nothing I could do but feeeeeeel it practically tear my throat open because 3; GAHHH! 3; Brent is so fukkin' Big 'n Strong so that I had to swallow it! He wasn't touching me anywhere like my butt or my dick but just doing this and making me have to do this, y'know, having to serve him on my knees because he's a man and I'm just his little, faggot slave-boy. Ohhhh yeahhhhh, this just gave me such a ragingly stiff boy-boner in my tied-tight, red speedo-bikini that I thought I'd tear right through it!

Brent kept giving me instructions while moving and jerking my head around, and he was also calling me names like, cocksucker and boy-faggot, and danny-the-queer, and boy-slut and his little sex-slave (ohhhh 3; !) and lots of other stuff. It took nearly twenty full minutes, and my mouth and jaw and throat were really sore and I was tired and I sort of wanted to stop but then he'd maybe bang my head a little or call me his "boy-slave" again and I knew I wasn't gonna stop for anything! At the end, he had his hands holding me at both sides of my face and tilted my head back and shot a thick stream of steamy-thick man-sperm down into my mouth right against my throat and ohhhhh, I started gulping because I wanted to do this right and swallow every bit. It was real hard because it was so much and it bubbled out from my lips a little but I swallowed most of it and the rest just trickled a little and I was able to lick it back in after he staggered backwards and pulled his super-awesome man-cock out of my mouth. I was so into it that right after I licked my lips and cheeks, I lunged forward to suckle his man-cock again and get all of the sperm that was sticking to it back into my mouth and throat and finally my stomach where thick and steamy man-cum belonged!

Brent, the man I now loved more than anything, tousled my hair and called me the "best boy ever!" which made me take a deeeeeep breath that was just seething with total desire and absolute satisfaction. Right then and there I knew for sure that Brent could tie me up naked to a medieval dungeon rack and make me for-real scream from for-real torture and as long as afterwards he tousled my hair and called me the "best boy ever!" that I'd somehow still be OK with it. I wondered though if he would 3; how far would he go with me? I hoped he'd do stuff with me and to me that I couldn't even imagine, because I wanted so much to prove to this man how much I loved him and how much I wanted him to be proud of me and know that even though I was just-a-little-boy, that I was the bravest and best boy ever!

For sure he told me finally that I could stay with him and be his boy for as long as I wanted. I told him right then that that meant forever! He smiled and reached and lifted me up with one hand up between my legs with his palm against my stiffie boy-boner, and he called me Boner-boy, because I'm almost always sooo boy-boner hard 'cuz I'm such a boy-slut. Brent set me on the counter and spread my legs apart and licked at my little hard-on and testicles and tilted me back too and knuckled my sphincter through my bikini-speedo, and that especially felt great! Eventually, he pulled away and tousled my hair again. I beamed back and sorta wanted to leap up in a pounce and wrap my nearly-naked body around him but he sensed it and said, "No, that's enough for now, I want to finish dinner." And of course I totally did what he told me to and settled down.

While he went back to his cooking, he told me how he'd have to take me shopping for some new clothes as the selection in my backpack was probably pretty limited. I said, "Sure," but also asked him if he could buy me more speedo bikinis and really sexy underwear and stuff like that. And I also asked him if it would be ok that I mostly just wear something sexy like a speedo or underwear around the house so that way whenever he looks at me he will see me as his total boy-sex slave! "That way," I said, "it'll be like I'm always there and ready for you to fuck me, like I'm total just asking for it! And I'll also always know how it's like at any minute of any day that I can just get grabbed and get whatever utter faggot-bikini thing I'm wearing tugged down and then I get supreeeeemely fucked 3; yeahhh, whether I even want it or not! Total awwwwesome, Brent!"

That brought him back for another slightly-shorter round of petting and licking and stroking, and I made little moans like a boy who wouldn't mind it at all to get another really good fucking. But instead, he gave me a pretty firm slap against my right cheek, definitely enough to make it really sting. That got my attention definitely and I looked straight at him with a wounded 'what-did-you-do-that-for?' sort of look. But before I said anything stupid, he led off first with how I better not ever call him anything but 'Mister Brent' or 'Master Brent' or even just 'Master' ever again. There was so much strength in his voice then that I sat up and just meekly nodded my agreement with wide-eyed, mouth-open acceptance. He held the moment like that for nearly a minute until I finally thought to add in a quiet voice, "Yes sir, Master Brent."

He gave the cheek he'd just swatted a couple of gentle pats. "So you think you'd like it to get yourself ganged by a bunch of men, eh? You think you're that much of a little sex-slut, boy? Well, we'll see about that. I've got some friends and oh yessss, they will definitely want to meet you. Saturday is when it will happen, when you'll be for-real gang-fucked! There'll be a lot of men and we will all fuck you non-stop for the whole day! You'll like it at first, I know, because you're such a little faggot! But soon enough, it'll start to hurt. You'll get all sore, your skinny arms and legs and your whole body will get tired and weak and start to ache. And your butt, yeahhh, when you start to get all sore up your butt where it's like we're just rubbing you raw with all our thrusting inside of you. And then your scrawny little body will get hit with so many of your boy-faggot, dry anal-orgasms from getting ass-fucked that it's all too much and you can't take any more! But it's gonna keep happening to you, slave-boy, whether you start crying or screaming or even begging us to stop! It might start as a Gang-fuck, but it will become a gang-rape! You'll like it at first but then it'll hurt you and you maybe think you'll like that too, but you won't. Do you know why? Because you're just a queer, little faggot of an eight-year old boy 3; a whimpering second-Grader who can't take it to get fucked so much by the sex-power of men! A little boy, no matter how much of a faggot-slut he is, can't take that much fucking for that long. But you're going to have to because it's going to happen to you, Danny Wyckham!"

His hand went to my throat and he squeezed a little. "You think you're a tuff little brat that wants all of this to happen so you can prove how tuff a little brat you are? Well, we'll see. Even that little mouth of yours is gonna get a work-out. And another thing, it will be a really lucky for you if you've always dreamed about getting spanked a lot! really lucky because you are definitely gonna get spanked harder than any schoolboy has ever been spanked before! You can just be that your hot, little bubble-butt is gonna get spanked at least a thousand times!

"So that's all this Saturday. Still think you're going to like it?"

His hand went away from my throat and while he didn't entirely squeeze so tight that I totally couldn't breath, I was having to gasp after he pulled away. My voice choked and caught and I stammered and I realized also that I was trembling. Brent 3; no wait, Master Brent had really scared me here and for the first time ever, I was wondering if this really was something I wanted to do and be. This was for-real, I was his utter slave now and he was going to do whatever he wanted to me. I felt a tear roll down my cheek as I finally managed to sob, "I 3; I don't know..!"

Two strong hands grabbed me at my shoulders and pushed me face down on the counter. Reaching into the drawer, he pulled out two, long nylon ties and first he forced my arms behind my back and jerked my wrists together at the small of my back and tied them together with one of the thin but incredibly strong little straps. Then he pulled my legs onto the counter, forced them together and bound them at the ankles. As he pulled my head up by my hair and stuffed a rag into my mouth, he said, "Here is the truth of it, Danny Wyckham, you little eight-year old faggot. It doesn't even matter whether you think you'll like it or whether think you still want to do it or not! You are nothing but a slave-boy now. You're my slave-boy! I'm bigger than you, I'm a man and you're just a little boy! So I can make you do whatever I want! There's nothing a weakling little second-grader like you can do about it! In just four more days 3; you are going to be brutally gang-raped by at least ten men, and it's going to happen to you whether you want it or not!"

His free hand stroked down my smooth back and then caressed my perky, round, protruding bottom through my speedo-bikini. He was gentle as he smoothed his hand between my legs and then felt up, back and forth rubbing all excited, just barely touching my soft testicles through the nylon and gliding back up the crack of my bum. Back and forth, back and forth, he exerted his middle finger a little whenever he passed over my speedo-protected sphincter 3; protected for now, anyway. "This is what a boy like you is good for," he said as he caressed my boy-sex, "You were born to be fucked by men 3; and you will be! You'll be my little slave-boy forever!"

I was crying and I was scared but also, I could tell for sure that my sturdy little dicklet was boy-boner harder than I had ever felt it before in my life. Pressed against his counter-top, I thought sure it was gonna work a groove right through his expensive marble. I watched as he walked away from me, going back to finishing the dinner. I watched with tear-faced eyes and a redness to my face from the difficulty in breathing with a rag deep in my mouth and the discomfort of the ties that were too tight around my wrists and ankles, and the assurance that I was soon going to have to endure 3; well, a lot of sexual pain! The thought of the last part, I mean, it wasn't really causing me to get soft or anything. In fact, as I imagined ways that they might tie me up so that they could really let me have it like I'd seen in some of the fiercer shota-drawings, it felt like I might just stay all boy-boner ultra-stiff for the rest of my life!

Master Brent finally finished preparing dinner, but set only one plate. Then he pulled me off the counter and set me on my knees under the table right before his own chair. He sat down and opened his robe and his thick, beefy man-Dick was already stiffening again, and he put his hand behind my head and pulled my head down and I opened my mouth and I started to do what he was forcing me to do. My hands were tied behind my back and my ankles were tied together and I was on my knees and almost naked with just a sexy bikini against the cold floor. But I started to do the best job possible that I could at sucking his man-Dick like this.

While he ate his dinner and while I sucked his man-Dick, he told me that this was also how it was going to be from now on. "Suck it right and you'll get your dinner, the only food for boys like you! I'll get you some special vitamins to supplement your new, thick, rich, all-protein diet. Understand?" He felt down with his hand to the top of my head so he could know that I was nodding yes. "This will keep you young and strong and fit, like a boy should be. And I know about a special drug that I'll get for you and give to you that will also keep you young and small, like we both know you want to be! But even if you didn't, it's what I want you to be 3; so you'd have to take it anyway!"

ohhhh 3; I sucked him even deeper and better. He sort of lost interest in his own meal for a couple of minutes there. But he'd already exerted his manly sexuality quite a lot already today so this took a while. He finished eating and just stayed in his chair after while I gave it my all to feed myself. He even petted my head and hair a little and that was nice, and after about half an hour when my mouth and jaw and throat were getting pretty tired, I could tell he was alllllllmost there. I gave him a real loooooonnnng lick there, sliding my mouth off his thick shaft, and then slowly went back and gobbled the bulbous head of his man-cock into my throat and used lots of suction and moisture and so when he came and shot his fiery-hot streams of thick man-sperm down into my throat 3; well, I knew it must have been totally great for him. His whole body was tense and then just exploded and I barely was able to handle the gobs of steamy, white man-cum that flowed into me. But yessssss, for sure this WAS boy-food, and I wanted to swallow it all to show him for-real that I was utterly devoted to him. Sure, I was actually pretty nervous about stuff that was going to happen to me 3; more like real scared to be honest. But I was also really starting to figure out that a boy-slave like me, well, a boy-slave should be scared at least some of the time, right? And if it hurts sometimes too, well then it should hurt sometimes to be a boy-slave! So yeahhh, that's what I figured.

When it was over, he pulled me out from under the table and lifted my up and kissed me on the lips and all over my face and he told me again and again and again that I was his boy! He cut the ties on my wrists and ankles, and my skinny hands just flew around his neck and shoulders and we kissed and cuddled all mushy like that for a while. Afterwards, he set me to work cleaning up the kitchen, which I did because I was his little slave-boy, and he just watched and admired my almost totally naked body. I admit it that I posed a little and pranced a little and showed off a little, and I admit it that it turns me on a lot to be nearly naked and on display like this and knowing that I'm really a hot and sexy little boy (whether I'm also cute and adorable too) and that I can get men all excited about me so that they wanna fuck me little brains out!

After all this, we moved into his big living room and watched a movie together on his leather couch with his big projector-screen, and I was still naked but for my skimpy, sexy speedo-bikini. We weren't making as much of a big deal about the man-master and boy-slave routine, so I could chatter a little more freely, though always still, at least, making sure to call him Mister Brent. This was very cool too, kind of like we were Father and son except better 'cuz, y'know, with sex! I was a little cold being just nearly naked in my speedo, so I got to snuggle up real close to him for warmth and comfort and love. It was a James Bond action-movie and we both mentioned how it would be better if the girl in the movie had been a young boy like me, sharing the adventure and danger and getting rescued and kissed and loved. Master Brent petted me almost constantly throughout the movie and I always would get boned-up-like-a-boy whenever he petted me through my glistening nylon speedo, whether against my little dicklet or my round butt or up between my legs right there which is where I get to feeeeeel 3; ohhhh 3; the true strength of a man inside of me. You c'n bet that because of that, it is just the favorite and best part of me ever!

After the movie we went back upstairs with him carrying me in his arms and me pretending that my wrists were still tied behind me and I was looking up at him kind of like I was scared. Master Brent sat down on the bed and pulled me up next to him, on my knees and staring me in the face. He said to me, "I need to know one more thing about you, Danny Wyckham. I need to be sure. Are you really a boy? Are you really a boy who wants to get fucked by men, hard and rugged like a tuff, brave boy 3; or are you a boy who really wants to be a girl and get fucked by men like a girl, all sweet and nice and always whimpering about it?

"I'm a boy, Master Brent," I declared without hesitation. I wanna be a boy for men and get fucked hard like men like'ta fuck their boys!"

"Are you sure," he demanded as he gripped my shoulders and squeezed me together enough to hurt. "Are you really, deep down the kind of sissy-boy that likes to wear girl's lacy underwear and be all dainty and cry like a little baby just because anything hurts a little?" And he slapped me really hard across my face.

That hurt a lot and my whole head was turned around. I couldn't stop it that a tear welled up in my left eye, but I managed not to sob or whimper. It took a couple of deep breaths but then I was able to glare back at him, all puppy-fierce, and say, "I'm a boy, Master Brent! I'm a fukkin' boy and I'll only cry if you make me cry!"

"Well, let's see about that," he stated as he yanked me forward wand shoved me down on my stomach and pressed one hand firmly against my shoulders and with the other, began to swat my boy-butt right through my wafer-thin, red speedo-bikini! He spanked me and spanked me with the palm of his hand, solid blows the way Dads mostly never spank their sons anymore. He reached around, untied my speedo and tugged it down my legs and down to my ankles and then off me entirely so I was totally naked for his spanking-fun and utter man-Pleasure. I was gasping and gritting my teeth, and gulping in breath between each stinging strike against my helpless bottom! I so much didn't want to cry 3; I wanted him to know it for sure that I was a brave and tuff little boy!

After maybe fifteen swats, Brent paused to caress and admire the redness of my glowing bottom, and let my throat catch in my gasping whimpers. But soon enough, he reached over to open a side-table drawer and pulled out a paddle to test me even further. I had never really even been spanked at all before 3; ever! But Master Brent was right because it had always been something that I'd dreamed about, like getting my Dad so mad at me that he would spank me over and over with me just in my underwear 3; and no on ether to stop him. I did really want me Dad and my teacher and some other men in my life to fuck me 3; but I also wanted them to spank me too.

The paddle whooshed through the air and then hit me with a solid slap and oh GAHHHH, did I cry out from that! This was a special paddle with a long end and leather grip and holes cunningly drilled in the spanking area that made it more intense and painful for boys to get spanked with it. Yes, it was a paddle made special for spanking boys only. For brave boys who try not to cry when they get spanked with a special paddle!

Crying out with each strike was OK, I guess. And I didn't hold back a bit. But I only made it to about ten before it became to much and I started to sob and then cry with real tears and say, "Ohhhh pleeeeeze stop! Oh please Master Brent, don't spank me any more..!"

He twisted my arm back enough to hurt me and keep me firmly in position and let me have it for twenty more wicked swats with the paddle. He really made me cry good and long and I was flailing my legs back and forth like the little boy that I was. He had been quiet at first, but now he called me all sorts of names like faggot and whore and slut and slave and stuff like that, making me know it and admit that I deserved it to get spanked and I deserved it to get treated roughly and I deserved it to get fucked and even raped! He made me say stuff like, "I'm a little eight-year old faggot, boy-slut whore who wants men to fuck me up my tight, little eight-year old faggot boy-slut whore asshole and fuck me real good'n hard because I'm nothing but a little eight-year old faggot boy-slut whore who deserves it!"

He held me and gripped me and shook me and spanked me, over and over, and made me cry and cry like the little boy I was. A boy, absolutely helpless in the violent hands of a Big Strong man! A boy who could do nothing but try his best to take it! But he never once called me a little girl. I was always a boy to him. So I knew he for-real loved me.

After the last blow against me, he set the paddle aside and began to stroke me nice and smooth and gently, all across my abused butt and up my back a little and then down around my upper thighs. His soft touch oozed away a lot of the pain of it, even though I was still real sore and, I'm sure, utterly as red on my bottom as my speedo-bikini. With a shift of his own position, he lay down fully on the bed and moved me from across his lap to on top of him, pulled forward so that we were face to face with my little dicklet starting to stiffen again against his muscular stomach. Brent opened my legs, spreading them wide so I straddled his torso, with my knees just not quite being able to touch the bed. He continued to caress and fondle my boy-butt, squeezing it and petting it all nice and gentle and I liked this a lot, 'specially when he said I had a perfect little boy-ass for spanking and for fucking!

"Will you spank me a lot, Master Brent?" I asked with a mischievous grin

"Oh, definitely, count on it. You, Danny Wyckham, are going to be a very well-spanked boy!" he answered, and I showed him that I really wanted him to because I got all-the-way boy-boner stiff again that he could definitely feel against his firm, muscle-toned six-pack. "You really are a kinky, little boy-slut, aren't you?"

I nodded eagerly. I'd seen shota-drawings of boys in bikini-briefs all tied up by their wrists or spread-eagled between two poles and they were getting spanked with paddles and switches and straps and canes. In the drawings, the cute boy-victims always got real stiff boy-boners as this went on, like being beaten and tortured was a total turn-on to them, and made them want to have sex even more! When they'd get untied, they were always so passionate to the man who had done it to them, like they were now utterly desperate to get fucked! And I always knew it that it had to be true! I knew that to get tied up and spanked would make me feel so completely helpless and so much totally just a little boy in the complete control of a man, and how that would be so hot to me that I would totally have a ultra-stiff boy-boner too and desperately need to get fucked! I mostly thought that's what my boner was for 3; to tell a man that I wanted to be fucked, that it was OK, y'know, because I've got a hard-on and that means I'm turned-on and excited and I want to be fucked! And it was a given that when I'd get around to hearing grown-up sex-words like foreplay, I would totally connect it in my twisted, little, faggot boy-slut brain with, "Oh, you mean like getting tied-up or spanked?"

So yeah, oh yeah, ohhh fuk yeah, I definitely wanted to be spanked, either tied up or held, and either naked or wearing something really sexy!

"Well, you'll get all the spankings a naughty, little, sex-crazed boy like you deserves!" continued Brent. "You'll get everything that a super-hot, sexy boy like you wants and needs, won't you?" And he sldp his right hand down the center of my butt until he could press his finger against my taut, little sphincter and then 3; ohhh gosh, he moved it around and around and then sloooowwwwly worked it inside of me. I went, "Ahhhhh" and reared up with my elbows on Master Brent's chest and tilted my head back. I'd put bigger things than Master Brent's finger up my butt myself, but this was way more special because it was Master Brent's finger. And he was using it just to make me feel good! He worked it in and out, fucking me so gently with it. He put his other arm and hand over my shoulders and pulled me down so that we were face-to-face again. And he kissed me as he pushed a second finger up my tight, little eight-year old boy ass.

I was a second-grader boy with both feet in heaven right then. I was gyrating my smooth, naked legs to the motion of his two fingers going in and out of my tight boysex. While my little boy-dicklet was super dagger-stiff hard, I knew for sure that for me, my anus was really my for-real boysex. What Mr. Brent was doing with me right now was and always would be, for me, total for-real sex! Being fucked and feeling fingers and anything up my butt was for-real sex to me! Not my dick at all, really. I was a total butt-sex faggot-boy and he knew it!

He stopped kissing me long enough to let me purr my utter puppy-please and then he pushed the third of his fingers up my butt which made me rear up again. But he pulled my head down once more to kiss me and love me while he pleasured me inside my tingling anus! His strong fingers were plowing me nice and deep and steady and I really liked it. I asked him, "Mister Brent 3; hunh-hunhh 3; can you really make me getta 3; hunh-hunhhh 3; dry, boy-faggot, anal-orgasm from 3; ahhhhhh 3; from fucking my tight boy-butt like this like 3; hunh-hunhhh 3; like in the stories I've read?"

He just kept working his magic inside of me and let me carry on chattering away in between my breathless gasps. I said how, according to the stores, little boy faggots like me who were too young to wet-cum would still get to have dry-cum anal-orgasms from getting man-fucked and how it was supposed to be the best thing ever for a boy to get to feel! Master Brent chuckled a little as he continued to pleasure me and then he really surprised me by saying, "You know, usually most boy-faggot brats have to get fucked a few times and get over how much it hurts at first before that happens. But you, Danny Wyckham, eight-year old boy-faggot supreme, had a sizzling boysex anal-orgasm the very first time you were fucked!"

"Rahh 3; really..?" I was honestly astonished.

"Mmmmm, it was too much for your little boyhood to withstand so you passed out right as it hit. But you bucked and spasmed like a champion stud eight-year old boy-faggot and you know what? I think it's time you did it again!" With that he pulled all of his digits from inside me and then gently slid me back just a little 3; and then I felt him press his supreme hardness up against the center of my boy-butt and up against my lower back and ohhh yeahhhh 3; I got the idea instantly that his man-cock was hugely bigger than his fingers. His potent man-cock would reach all the way so deep inside of me that I'd feel it like it was everywhere! I wanted it and he knew it, but he held me in place like this for a while, just for a little while until I whimpered, "Please Master Brent, I want your man-Dick inside me so much!"

His strong, firm hands gripped me at the sides and lifted me up and adjusted us both just so until he could slowly bring me down onto his intensely stiff and thick and masterfully hard man-cock! "Soooo awwweeesome," I moaned as I was impaled and filled with the most intense feeling ever that a boy can feel 3; utter and total man-sex!

He was calmer and quieter and slower this time and it was different and really good to be able to move and respond to what he was doing and what I was feeling. His dick felt lots better to me because I'd taken it before and now I was 'specially ready, and I just loved what it did inside me, making me feel so especially little because it was so incredibly big! The hugeness of his man-cock made me feel so completely like a boy. For me, feeling-like-a-boy didn't mean at all to be anything like a 'young-man' 3; but to be littler and smaller and practically helpless. Brent didn't need to tie me up really, he could just hold me down firmly and make me feel anything. He could fuck me hard and ruff if he wanted, he could rape me, or he could make me feel completely awesome and loved and supreme like now. I was his boy for anything he wanted to do. Just the thought of it was hot and sexy. Feeling-like-a-boy meant being in a man's strong arms and feeling his overwhelming strength but then also his intense love, because he knows he's such a powerful man and I'm his utterly devoted, little boy. That was just absolutely everything I wanted to be!

Brent lifted me up and down, up and down, filling me deep with his thrilling man-Sex. It was slow and steady but still so big that I would wince and gasp every time as he filled me up 3; he was So Much man, and I was such a little boy. It hurt still, like the first time, and down was especially more like it hurt; but up felt lots more like wow. So it wasn't the total-hurt like from then but more like a good-hurt thing where it was feeling kinda good and kinda bad nearly at the same time. I liked it this way, it was utter cool. I also especially liked the way he was talking to me, saying stuff like, 'Yeahhh, Danny's my special little faggot-boy. You love having a big man-cock go up inside your tight boy-butt don't you? You know what you are? You're a second-grader schoolboy whore who's going to get butt-fucked every day!'

It was just like in the man-boy fuck stories. It made him so totally in charge, which was good. I wanted to talk dirty too and be just an ultra boy-slut! "Oh yeah, oh yeahhhh 3; ohhhh that feels so good, Mister Brent! Fuck me good like that! Your dick is so big I can barely take it, but do it anyway! Fuck me! Fuck me hard! Fuck me harder than any second-Grader ever! AaaaaAAAAAAA! Oh gosh, that hurrrrtfuck me forever! I wannit so much and I 3; I 3; ohhhh nnghhhh 3; aaaaaaaAA! GAAAAAAHH! Wha..? GAHHH! unngggGGAHHH! Wha..what's happening to me..?! Oh GAAHHHH!"

It felt like Brent had just suddenly squeezed my own boner and balls and pushed something back inside me that just exploded with a burst that shot all over and then like just twisted from where his super-awesome man-cock was buried in me and then spread out to every part of my body! I seized up from this amazing sex-lightning that lanced inside me and I felt my insides utter tense and clench around his massive invasion and all of a sudden, Brent jerked beneath me and his already huge erection pulsed and throbbed and actually got bigger inside me! oh fuk! Then I felt a warm burst of something deep in me and it took a moment before I realized that Brent was actually cumming inside me 3; ohhhh, shooting his hot, steamy man-juice up into my guts, like they say it in all the stories. It felt just great and I had a total tingle all over and everywhere, and I just knew that I was in heaven, a place where really good boys go! Brent's sperm was now inside me and I knew that is totally where it belonged!

I was so feverish with intense boy-passion that I didn't even notice as he lifted us both forward, setting me down with my back on the bed which never actually leaving inside me. He lifted my legs up with my feet and ankles over his shoulders and then, even though he'd just spermed me, he started to fuck me again! But this was lots more excited fucking and with my insides already lubed with his hot and thick man-cum, I was as ready as a boy could be for it. He started with long strokes by lots quicker, giving me an in-and-out penetration of about seven full inches since he was never leaving me with his massive cock-head and first inch or so of shaft! It was still so big, but he knew that I was liking it all now, the pain was still there, making me seize up and gasp each time it hit into me 3; But I was liking it. I liked the pain and passion and utter pleasure of being fucked by a grown man's super-thick, steel-stiff, ten-inch [25 cm] cock!

So I finally got to where I stopped being such a crybaby about it. Sure, his man-cock was lots bigger than anything I'd ever imagined and still, when he wasn't being careful, it was really prolly too just a little big for me! But I used to download tons of pictures of hot, hung guys, all naked and super-strong looking with their iron-stiff hard-ons standing up like steel 3; and ohh, how I dreamed of them fucking me, all of them taking turns to pound me with their enormous, throbbing cocks and telling me how I was the best and bravest eight-year old boy ever! So just like that, because I wanted it so much, I was able to start to relax, with my small, twig-like body becoming accustomed to this enormous presence within me. As long as I took it in easy, not really trying to move much and just take it and let it come then ohhh yeahhh, it started to feeeeel soooooo goooood! It felt so good to be so full 3; so full of man-cock!

I shivered and gasped over and over with every movement he made. Any shift could cause a twinge and spasm of pulsing pain inside me and I'd have to wriggle and adjust as much as I could so it would feel better. And the more I did it, I found it got easier and better. I was still kind of throbbing inside and I know my eyes were total watery with tears, but I managed a swallow and was able to focus my eyes on him and for the first time in a while actually saw him instead of just flashing lights of agony, and I stammered my treble-voice to ask him, "Am I 3; your boy now 3; Brent..?"

"You are my boy forever, Danny! You are the most awesome boy in the world!" And then he pulled back his incredible cock, holding me down by pressing my knees against my chest, and then he pushed back into me and I cried out another gasp. Pulling back had actually felt gooooood, and going back in hadn't felt anywhere near so bad as the first time. And then again, he pulled back 3; sooooo awesome 3; and again he pushed in and yeahhhhh, ohhhh, that does feel good too! Oh yeah, oh yeahhh, this was it! I was being fucked! I was finally being fucked!

"You're fucking me!" I squeaked at him with tears still in my eyes. My lower lip quivered a little as his thickness washed into me again and I instinctively flexed my legs and opened myself to his entry a little and whoa, that sure made things even better. My voice got a little stronger, "You're a man and I'm only an eight-year old boy 3; just a second-grader schoolboy, and you're for-real fucking me and it's 3; ohhhhh, it's the best thing ever!"

His exertions within me got a little faster right around then 'cuz I guess I was really turning him on. Cool. But despite the roughness of our beginning, Brent was careful not to push his full weight against my upraised legs, for fear of hurting me too much or snapping me in two, actually. His fuck-strokes inside me felt better and better. My own little prostate started to respond and get very excited by all this back-and-forthing of a man's cock, and my own pencil-thin dicklet was ragingly stiff from all this mega sexual adventure!

Then Brent really started to speed it up, stabbing me with shorter but faster thrusts of his supreme flesh-sword. My back and shoulders were arced and my head was tilted back, as each penetration of my boyhood was a supreme test of my desire to be a boy! You can bet there were tears in my eyes but this time they were utter tears of pure boy-joy because I was feeling the full thrust of a big, strong man and taking it and liking it a lot! He never let up on me, not a bit, and I sure didn't want him to. "AAAAA! AAAAAA! Fuck me harder, Master Brent! Oh pleeeeeeeze fuck me harder!" With each powerful blast I knew I was alive and I was a boy and I was in a man's bed and I was his boy to fuck and to love and to spank and to hug and to abuse and to kiss and to molest! Brent thrust and thrust his potency in and out 3; in and out 3; in and out of me, stroking my shoulders, bending me into a pretzel to get into me even deeper and better, and all the time calling me his brave and strong little slave-boy fuck-toy! That just made it all sooooo good and utterly worth it to me! I loved him like a boy totally loves his MAN and if he was maybe even going to fuck me to death 3; than I was willing!

Of course not that it mattered whether I'd be willing of not, which was what makes it sooooo ultra-coo' to be a boy!

I dunno how long it lasted, I think nearly an hour. I dunno how many times he made me getta dry-cum boy-orgasm from fucking me over and over and over, but each one was like more awesome for me than the one before. When he finally pumped his own river of boiling-hot man-sperm inside me, which made me dry-cum boy-orgasm again like a boy-faggot slave-boy always should, ohhhhhh, I was just utterly exhausted. I'm just a boy, I'm only eight-years old and in the second-grade and I'm a small and weak and helpless boy in a great big World that's filled with men who can do anything they want with me and to me. ohhhhh fuk yeahhhh! So I finally went to sleep for real with Master Brent's still-stiff man-Dick right up my tight'n tender boy-butt 3; just where it belonged 3; and where it belonged forever!

I slept so soundly and great, and I totally had the best kind of dreams. I was the lucky boy at last

The End