Chapter 1 Lost and Found
Adam Smithington had it all. He was assistant attorney general working under a great prosecutor who was about to be elected governor. Which meant Smithington had a clear shot at the boss' job. His prosecutorial history was superb. He never lost a case and he chose the vilest criminals to go after-murderers, rapists, and his favorite, pedophiles. He couldn't count how many he put away, but he always made a media circus of the trial. And he was well-loved.
Adam Smithington had it all. He had three beautiful children. Emily, his eldest had just got her driver's license which was perfect to help ferry his younger two around now that Stefon, the Smithington's butler, was getting too old to be reliable. Ben was his youngest child at 8 who was the spitting image of Smithington and took after him perfectly. Smithington would never say it out loud, but Ben was his pride and joy. His perfect success. His middle child, Tyler, was, well, Tyler was the Smithington black sheep. The family loved him anyways, but they just couldn't quite figure him out.
Adam Smithington had it all. Or rather, he'd had it all. That was until the day his children disappeared. After school, Emily went shopping with her boyfriend (Aaron Amesly, quarterback – at 16! – and son of the mayor) then went to pick up Ben from baseball practice, and Tyler from (sigh) theatre rehearsal. But they never made it home. The road to the Smithington estate was a bit windy and secluded, but it was usually a safe drive. Not that fateful evening.
Nobody could really say what happened, but the unmistakable red-and-pink sedan Emily loved was found at the bottom of the small ravine, upside down, scant feet from the overflowing Azores River. Investigators were unable to locate any of the Smithington kids, but there were traces: some, but not a lot, of blood, some hair, and Ben's baseball cap were all found in the sedan. Everyone was at a loss of what happened or where the kids were. But Smithington knew. He had secretly feared the day when his career would come back to haunt him. He had put some terrible people away over the years, and not all of them for life. Some had been paroled, others had served their sentences. Many released had disappeared.
That happened three months ago.
***
The ensuing media frenzy was unrestrained. As much as people love their heroes, they love it even more when their heroes fall from grace. Every aspect of the search for the 'Smithington Angels' was under the scrutiny of the press. The press had started calling them that when they decided that his children likely drowned and were swept along the Azores out to sea. Reporters camped out in front of the Smithington estate hoping to get an exclusive interview, or a new tidbit to report on first. Adam Smithington was about to get them that breaking tidbit.
He sat alone in his study. He was a shadow of his former self. Is hair, now greying and brittle, lay unkempt along his wan cheeks. Smithington's flesh hung loosely over his bones giving him the appearance of a man who had lost a lot of weight quickly and recently. His eyes were grey and hopeless. A scraggle of a beard wound its way out of his face. He sat alone in his study in the ugliest, most uncomfortable chair he owned.
On a table to his left sat a laptop, fully open, the pale blue glow of the screen the only source of light in the gloom. This laptop had been his most constant companion over the past months as he search high and low for his Angels. He'd used up all of his favors. All of his contacts, colleagues and friends failed him. He had abandoned his job. His old boss won the governorship and his rival, Preston McIntery, became attorney general. McIntery quickly pushed the Angels' investigation aside for his priorities. Justice had failed Smithington, too.
On a table at his right sat a gun, fully loaded, a bottle of rum, almost empty, and a snifter, also almost empty. Smithington considered these objects. He'd worked through the rum, so now it was time for the other. His right hand reached out…
A chime disturbed the gloom. Smithington's hand halted. His attention turned left and his eyes focused on a single word in a list.
"Benny"
"I don't know any Bennys," Smithington mumbled aloud to himself, but clicked the name anyways, opening the email that had interrupted his suicide.
The message was blank. Smithington's eyes darted around the screen, taking it all in, a habit of his investigator days. Burner, untraceable email address. No message. No subject. No signature. One file.
Wait. One file. "Probably a virus," he said, not really believing it.
Smithington clicked on the file to begin the download. Dread filled him, his stomach aching, lurching upwards towards his chest. He couldn't explain it, but he knew he was about to watch proof that his children were dead, that the revenge on Smithington was complete.
The download finished and opened. Smithington could not have been more wrong and the dread evaporated into elation.
Ben stared at his father from inside the computer screen, smiling. He was different than Smithington remembered, but not that different. The dimples were the same, as was the brightness in Ben's blue eyes. His hair was longer. Ben had preferred a buzz so he didn't have to worry about it. Now his hazelnut hair was longer and styled into a faux hawk. The hair pulled up from the sides into a ridge at the top of his head.
"Hi Daddy!" Ben yelled happily.
Daddy? He never calls me that. Came a thought unbidden in the back of Smithington's mind.
"Master said that you were worried about me" Master? "but don't worry. I'm happy" Ben giggled.
This wasn't right. This wasn't Ben. It looked like him but it didn't act like him. Smithington's smile melted away as he took in the rest of the scene. Ben was shirtless, sitting in front of what looked like a shag carpeted wall. Shirtless except for the leather harness strapped to his chest. The four straps of the harness came up from below his arms and over his shoulders to a point in the middle of Ben's chest. A fifth strap pulled from the center directly down along his belly and disappearing off screen at his waist. His tanned skin was paling, an indication that he hadn't seen much sun since his disappearance.
But he certainly wasn't underfed. His muscle tone was just as Smithington remember watching him play tag football with his buddies. A small layer of fat softened Ben's ribs. His stomach – as much as was visible on screen – was flat, but soft, as you would expect from a healthy eight year old boy. His arms were likewise soft, not skinny not particularly fat. Around his left bicep was a black armband with a spiraling blue triangle emblazed on it. A symbol for the boylove community. Around his neck was a thick, black leather collar. Hanging off the ring, like a dog's tag, was an emblem of a cartoon cat Smithington didn't recognize.
In Smithington's horror, he didn't hear the grunting command. But Ben heard it. Still smiling, Ben turned his head up as a bearded mouth lowered on screen. As the man's lips touched Ben's, the boy opened his lips and slid his soft tongue out. The man copied Ben's actions and his much larger tongue dwarfed Ben's as the two pressed together, tasting each other. Ben stretched his arms up and around the anonymous man's head as two massive beary arms wrapped around Smithington's son. Smithington realized that the shag carpet was in reality, his son's molester.
He watch in horror as one of the man's hands slid down Ben's stomach off screen and the boy began to gyrate his hips as he moaned into the beard.
The man's other hand reached for the camera. The scene spun before the video ended.
Fuck.
Adam Smithington had had it all. Now he had fear
3; and hope.
Chapter 2 Introducing Skyler to the World
Adam Smithington was pissed off. He slammed the door shut and tore off his sopping wet jacket as he stomped through his ramshackle hotel room. The storm was in full swing pelting a deluge upon the small village in the foothills of the Andes. But the weather isn't what irked Smithington. He'd been here for weeks, tracking down his only lead in finding his kidnapped – and now apparently raped – children.
At the end of a video purportedly sent from his youngest, Ben, the camera view shifted and gave him a brief view of a window. One frame of that video showed a clear view of what was outside that window. That brought him here. But all the help he expected from the Peruvian officials was nonexistent. "This happens all the time," they said. "We've never recovered a stolen boy." Ridiculous. "Besides, it looks like he enjoyed it. Get on with your life or you'll go crazy." And that was that. They weren't going to help.
Smithington dropped into the creaky chair next to the table and flipped open his laptop. He flicked on his satellite internet on and opened his email program. And stared stunned.
There was a new message. Not from "Benny" as he'd hoped, but from "Skyler." That must be his other boy. Shaking with trepidation, he opened the email and then hung his head in shame.
On screen popped up a flyer that read:
"Do you want to be my new Daddy? I'll be on the auction block
3; See some of the things I've learned to do and then make your bid! If I'm lucky, I'll be able to go home with you!"
These words framed a youthful silhouette in goopy, luscious letters. The silhouette was just a black outline, a side view. Clearly the model was naked, and clearly he was a boy. He leaned forward, standing with forearms pressed against a wall. One leg was extended behind him while the other toed playfully at the ground in front.
He had an obscene erection, giving the distinct impression that this youth was well on his way to a very fortunate puberty. His cock, already man-sized looked even bigger in contrast with his slight, still boyish frame. Between the shadow's legs, a small but plump sack dangled proudly.
Though he hadn't seen Tyler naked since he was a toddler, Adam knew this boy was his 13 year old son.
At the bottom of the flyer was a date and time
3; scheduled for the following night.
***
The next night found Adam sitting alone in his hotel room. Fitting, he thought to himself. He was in the exact situation most normal people imagined pedos were like: sitting alone in a creepy, rundown, rape-me hotel in the middle of bumfuck nowhere eagerly waiting to look at naked children. Of course Adam was only eager to get confirmation his son was still alive and find a way to rescue him.
A deluge hammered outside as Adam typed in the odd web address into his computer. The website began loading with excruciating slowness. Damn this third world country internet. After a brief moment, Adam regretted his impatience and groaned in revulsion. Continuing to download at a snail's pace, the website's banner scrolled into view displaying a logo that read: SLUT-BOYS LOOKING FOR DADDIES.
Leading the banner was the face of a young boy, probably around 10. His bowl-cut brown hair complimented his hazel eyes while at the same time contrasting with his almost glowing-white skin. The bridge of his nose was only a small ridge ending in a tiny, classic button above a pair of startlingly red lips. Lips that gaped slightly, framing the pearls inside and the hint of a pink tongue beyond. Aaron Bucket, Adam recognized the boy who had gone missing from a small town outside Omaha who was staring out of the screen at him with a look half of wonder and half of fear. The boy had looked like this five years ago when he disappeared on his way to school.
Adam's gaze pulled away from poor lost Aaron to the obscene logo butting up against the sweet face. The letters were written in a variety of flesh colors, round and bulging to give an organic impression. A small, erect boy dick protruded out from a tight, baggy scrotum stood in for the logo's hyphen. The flesh-writing dribbled with an excessive amount of thick, white goop, no mistaking what that was. The obscene font combined with little Aaron's portrait left little question to the depravity Adam knew he was about to experience and it left him even more fearful for his son.
But this wasn't even the most disgusting part of the Slut-Boys Looking for Daddies logo. That would be the two 'o's in 'Looking'. The first 'o' framed a mocha slit: the clearly untouched virgin anus of a young boy, totally hairless, totally tight above a pronounced perineal seam highlighting the beginnings of the boy's taint. As Adam stared on in horror, the little slit quivered and clenched even tighter, pulling inwards, protectively. It was an animation. And next to it was the other 'o', which contained clearly the same anus, no longer a tight, untouched slit, but a gaping hole, red and puffy with a trail of cum dripping down the violated boy's taint. As the slime dribbled out, the ring bordering the lad's sphincter throbbed in obvious discomfort.
Adam felt a knot of nervousness fill his stomach overriding some of the searing anger he'd been feeling since he received that email "from" Ben as the page continued to load. Two things began to materialize onscreen.
The first was a famed streaming video player. As the rest of the page loaded the video software began to connect and started displaying status information that Adam ignored. He was only interested in the other object loading. It was an image. As the image wiped down, Adam recognized two things. The first, and most important was his son, Tyler, stared back at him. The second was his pose: Tyler was naked, leaning against the frame of the video player. One leg extended backwards while the other toyed with the ground. His disproportionately large erection stood out straight. This was the original picture of the silhouette teased in the flyer. Tyler stared lustily at his father through the screen. Adam felt sick.
Suddenly music blared from his computer's speakers as the video player connected, giving Adam a start. The busty music pounded as Adam quickly lowered the volume in extreme annoyance. What looked like a cabaret stage faded on screen, complete with flowing ruby curtains and an audience pit, filled to the brim.
The camera zoomed to stage left as a figure, back lit by the bright lights sauntered to the middle of the stage, a hazy mystery. In the tradition of queer musical theatre, the backlights panned up quickly leaving the stage in almost pitch darkness. Then a spotlight lit up the figure: Tyler stood behind a mic leaning heavily on one leg. One arm rested firmly on his hip, elbow pointed out, while the other dangled as if forgotten. His stance reminded Adam of the powerful felinity of a burlesque house's Maitre d.
The theatre was noticeably silent as if the audience was holding its collective breath. Then Tyler spoke. "Hey, guys," he said breathily and with his slight lisp that Adam hated
"I'm Skyler. With an 'S', not a 'T'. I can't wait to meet my daddy. Let me show you how I can make you happy."
A sly grin spread across his face as the crowd roared with cat calls and offers before the auction had even begun.
Adam closed his computer, sickened. It was clear his son was lost to him. Since he was little, Tyler had always acted a little feminine. This gross behavior was only getting worse as he entered puberty. Adam had done his best, but clearly Tyler was a fag. Adam gave up on him. He deserved the perverts.
Adam now had to focus on his only remaining son: Ben. He had to get him back before these monsters turned him into his older brother.
Adam Smithington had had it all. Now he had shame.
Chapter 3 Payback: Meet Benny
Adam Smithington slammed the door as he stormed out of the motel room. The subtropical rain was still torrenting from the sky and he was soaked in seconds. This did not improve his fury. His eldest boy, Tyler, was clearly and proudly a dick-smoking fag. His worst fears about his son – no! former son – were true. It's not like Smithington was all that surprised. But he had hoped this was all just a phase or he was reading his son wrong. Even that he was one of those pussy-hound metrosexual guys who chased fag hag sluts looking for guys into fashion and romantic comedies and all that girly shit.
But no. Tyler was selling himself to the highest bidder in a room full of queery pedos. That was clear. And Tyler was loving it, too. That was also clear. Smithington couldn't have that behavior in his house. Couldn't have it around him or his youngest son, Ben, when Smithington got him back. No, Tyler chose his path. And he chose abandonment of his family to a lifetime of riding cock and guzzling cum and dying of AIDS.
Maybe this made things easier for Smithington. Now he could focus on finding just Ben.
"Shitty evening."
Smithington jumped in surprise at the interruption to his musing. Trembling with adrenaline, he turned and his gaze fell on a bespeckled man in his mid-fourties with the shape of a body builder. Rain water rand in rivulets off his bald head.
"Sorry to startle you," the man said. "Let me introduce myself Mr. Smithington."
Smithington grew instantly suspicious and defensive. This man knew him, probably from his former career of from the press. But maybe he was here to deliver hostage demands for Ben.
"I'm agent Thom Cutter with the UN Taskforce Against Child Exploitation. I'm looking for your sons as I imagine you are too."
"How
3; why are you here?" Smithington was confused. It was beyond unlikely that this man would be looking for his children and staying in the exact same motel as he was.
"TACE always has an agent following the parents of trafficked children in case the kidnappers are interested in ransom and make contact. In fact, I know you've been contacted. I saw that email and the video from Ben. And I know Tyler is being displayed and sold right now. In fact, I'm surprised you're not following the
3; ahem
3; auction."
Cutter left the question unasked, but Smithington answered anyways, more to let off steam than to explain himself. "He's a fag. I could tell the moment he walked on stage that he is where he wants to be. And that's his choice and he will suffer for it himself, but I'm done with him. Tyler is dead to me."
Cutter studied Smithington for a moment before nodding. "I understand, and in your position would do the same thing. But I don't have the luxury to give up on him. Still, I will focus my efforts on your worthy child. Speaking of that," Cutter grabbed the tormented father's shoulder in comfort, "I have a very unusual proposition for you."
Smithington looked at the hand holding him and then into the agent's face. Seeing this reaction as permission to continue, Cutter went on.
"As a DA, you were so successful in cases like these. Even more successful that we are. So I think we have better chances of finding Ben if we share our information."
"What information do you have that I don't?" Smithington asked, still suspicious.
"Frankly, not much. But Ben's kidnappers have released a new video on some private newsgroups online that we have access to. It also sounds like they will release more. I have to warn you, though, that you will have trouble watching what they do to your son. But I think you already have some idea."
Smithington took a deep breath to try to control his emotions.
Smithington couldn't ignore this new information. He had to take what Agent Cutter was offering
3;
***
They sat in Cutter's room, identical to Smithington's. It was right next door to his room, which is probably how Cutter knew when Smithington stormed out. Tyler's live auction was on screen. The boy was now naked with his ass in the air. Hands from the audience raised and lowered as perverts put in their bids.
Cutter quickly closed the web page with little concern and Smithington pretended to ignore what he saw. He took a deep breath to calm himself after facing even more evidence of the boy's faggotry.
Cutter pulled over a second chair to the table his laptop rested on, inviting Smithington to sit. He then opened a folder which had two videos. The first one, Hi Daddy.mp4 was the same name as the video that showed Smithington Ben was alive and abused. He didn't catch the title of the second video file before Cutter opened it and the screen went black.
Then, white text came panning in from the side. It read: Payback Part 1: Meet Benny.
Smithington pursed his lips in anger. He knew it! This was proof that all that had happened was to get to him. It was personal.
"Ready?" Cutter asked with a hint of trepidation after seeing Smithington's expression. Smithington gave one terse nod.
"Do it."
The video was already playing. The black faded to a view Smithington would quickly come to hate.
The video was focused on a baby blue, nondescript wall. In front of the wall was a narrow, padded table and a tall bar-height desk chair facing the camera. A man walked into the framed and leaned his butt against the chair. He was in his mid forties, though looked a little older. He had a grizzle of dark hair coming out of his face, but his head was completely shaved bald. He was bulky. The kind of bulky that you could tell was mostly muscle but had an intimidating layer of fat around it. He wore a white tank top and tight yellow short shorts. He was covered in thick, dark body hair that stuck through every opening in his clothes. He looked like the classic gay 'bear' and he grinned at the camera.
"Hi darlings!" he said cheerily, "It's me, Buck, and boy, do I have a treat for you all. As you know, we usually are hired by fathers or uncles to teach their boys respect and humility and show you how we do it. But today, we have a special guest." He reached off screen and pulled a boy to him. Ben.
Buck stood Ben in front of him holding him by his hips, showing him off to his audience. This was clearly an earlier video than the one that was emailed to Smithington and he looked incredibly unhappy. Ben still had his short hair, though it was a little longer than normal. His azure eyes were red rimmed and watery as if he was just crying and his cheeks were rosy. The exposed skin on his face, arms, and legs was still darkly tanned. He was dressed in blue soccer shorts and a child-sized, pale pink t-shirt with the word's Virgin Alert on it and an outline of a man hoding a boy's head who was kneeling between the man's legs. You could just barely see that he was wearing bright white, calf height socks.
The man named Buck leaned his face next to Ben's and took an exaggerated, audible sniff. "Mmmm," he said to the terrified boy, "You smell like a virgin." Then an unusually long, thick tongue spipped out of Buck's mouth and slid wetly up Ben's face from jaw to hairline. Ben's face froze in a look of pure steeled hatred. "You taste like a virgin, too. I wonder if the rest of you tastes like a virgin, too. I guess we'll find out soon. Hah!" Buck giggled at his own salacious joke as a tear ran down Ben's stiff face.
Smithington stared daggers into the screen. His jaws tightened as he ground his molars. This violation was almost too much for him to handle. What had Ben done to deserve this? He had always been an amazing kid. He was best in the league on both his soccer and tag football teams. He was popular and everyone liked him. Sure he wasn't very good at school, but Smithington's friends could fix that when the boy was older. The answer, of course, is that Ben hadn't done anything to deserve this. This was retribution for Smithington. This Buck, was punishing him, not Ben. Ben was just a casualty. But he was the one who was suffering.
On screen, Buck had redrawn his gaze to the camera. "This is Benny Smithington." He briefly gazed back at Ben. "Say 'hi' to our adoring fans, Benny." Ben didn't respond. His body remained stiff, his eyed focused at a point behind the camera, as if trying to pretend he was somewhere else. But they kept glancing back to the camera before quicky darting away. He was losing control.
*SMACK*
Ben's head snapped around at the force of Buck's backhanded slap. An angry red welt swelled on his cheek.
"WHEN I TELL YOU TO DO SOMETHING," Buck's scream was almost shrill and on the verge of insane, "YOU WILL NOT HESITATE AND YOU WILL NOT DISOBEY!" His face was so close to Smithington's son's cheeks that as he enunciated his words, his lips brushed against the boy.
Buck composed himself and and redrew his attention to the camera. Benny's face was soaked, a combination of Buck's spit and Benny's now constant tears.
"Lets try that again," the threat in Buck's voice was unmistakable. "Benny, say 'hi' to your adoring fans."
Ben hesitated for the briefest moment, then decided it would be better to go along with it. He lowered his gaze to the floor and mumbled out a greeting through his clenched teeth. "Hi, fans," as more tears ran down his face at this small surrender.
Buck's grin was his only acknowledgment of his victory over the 8-year-old.
"I'm sure a lot of you are scratching your noggins about that name. Smithington. Smithington. Let me reveal the mystery. Benny's daddy is Assistant Attorney General who has put more of us in prison than any person alive today," His voice turned suddenly painful and hurt for a moment, "including me. And for what? Appreciating little boys like Benny, here? Well, now Mr. Assistant Attorney General is making up for it by letting us play with his little boy!" Buck brought his hand up and inside Ben's shirt, rubbing his tummy slowly, showing off brief glimpses of Ben's perfectly smooth, perfectly tanned, perfectly boyishly soft belly. He then playfully slid his fingertips into the waistband of Ben's soccer shorts. "So smooth," Buck said as if to himself. Then he shook himself slightly and his eyes refocused. "Not yet! Plenty of time for that later." Behind Ben, Buck adjusted himself.
Back in the motel room, Smithington's breathing began to get heavier and ragged. This was too much, he started to dry heave and crouched on the floor as he struggled for oxygen. Next to him, Cutter sat still staring intently at the screen picking up every detail. He saw what happened next.
Buck pulled Benny back to him hugging the boy tightly. Viewers could clearly see him start to dry hump against the boy's back, teasing the boy and himself at the same time. His hands slipped lower and came up, once again, under Benny's shirt. This time, though, Buck didn't stop at his stomach. He pushed his hands up pulling the hem of the pink shirt up with it. This gave the audience its first view of Benny's smooth innie belly button. The way he was pulled back to Buck, his stomach was stretched which turned the 'o' of the button into an elongated oval, almost a slit. The audience also learned that Benny's shorts were riding a little low, revealing just the top of the 8-year-old's flat pubic mound and the beginnings of a slight, but definite crotch V.
Benny's face started to loose its emotionless stillness. His lips started to quiver slightly as Buck's hands glided up to the boy's little chest. He started massaging the undeveloped pecs and then started to toy with the boy's nipples. Benny raised his arms subconsciously in defense, but stopped as Buck started to pinch and roll the little nubs roughly. When the molester was satisfied with his work, Buck pulled down Benny's pink shirt and held it tightly from the bottom. The audience could now see the hardened nipples poking against the 'virgin' shirt.
At this point, Adam Smithington had regained enough composure to look back at the agent's laptop. He saw the man known as "Buck" toy with his precious little boy. He looked at Ben's face, his trembling frown, tear lined, swollen cheeks, red eyes and lost it. He fell onto the ground. He couldn't bear seeing this abuse and knowing, from experience, that it was just the beginning.
"Raise your arms, Son," the man said huskily in the video before Cutter's intense gaze. The boy's pure sexiness was starting to get to him and he was struggling to focus. Benny was perhaps the sexiest little boy the had sat in Buck's lap and he couldn't wait until he could get inside the 8-year-old. The kid raised his arms and Buck slowly slid his hands up along Benny's side, pushing the shirt along with it. He pulled the shirt over Benny's head and displayed his conquest in all his topless glory. He rand his hands all along Benny's front causing goose bumps to form on the boy's body.
Benny let out a startled squeak when Buck lifted him up and sat him on the padded table. He moved the chair out of the way and leaned over Benny to slurp noisily on the boy nips while placing one hand on the inside of Benny's nearest thigh and the other against his lower back. Benny, for the first time since his abduction, let go for a second and relaxed to enjoy this new pleasure. His face, relaxed, his eyelids dropped close. He signed and leaned back, his head against the wall as Buck tongued his nipples first, then dragged his tongue down to ream Benny's belly button. As the man's obscenely large tongue poked into his navel, the boy's stiff muscles relaxed, but the Benny's unguardedness soon cracked.
That was because Buck decided to take advantage of the boy's distraction and slipped his hand up Benny's shorts. Benny stiffened again as the man's large paw disappeared entirely up the boy's shorts leg. The boy's previously non-existent bulge grew obscene and began undulating as Buck's hand manipulated the boy's little dick and balls. Buck brought his head up and began kissing and licking Benny's tear-stained face. The boy tried to close his legs as he tried to pull his head back away from Buck's lips, but failed at both. Buck effortlessly held the boy legs open and Benny's head was already trapped against the wall. Bucks moaning into Benny's face was clear in the video. Just as clear was Benny's now audible sobs as he broke down again. Buck pulled away to give the boy a short break to compose himself, but still left his hand inside the shorts cupping the small package.
Moments later, Buck decided that Benny'd had enough time. Removing his hand from the boy's privates, he pulled the boy up by his armpits so his butt scooted back away from the edge of the table and towards the wall. He then pushed the boy's knees up and opened his leg. This caused the shorts to side down the boy's smooth thighs showing that the boy generally wore longer shorts. His thighs were pure white as if they had never seen the sun. He then pulled one of the legs of the shorts open, displaying the small bulge inside a pair of tightly fitting briefs patterned with various video game characters dancing around the boy's cock. The bulge was a perfect tease for what lay beyond. There they were: three, nearly equal sized domes, one sitting above the other two, all small.
Buck let the camera zoom in on the trio of orbs while toy with them. He pushed them around with his fingers, rubbed them with his palm, and even flicked at them and chuckled at Benny's protests.
Back in the motel room, Smithington had blacked out. He dreamed of his memories of his young son as he wished to remember him. The tanned, athletic youth sprinting down the soccer field, dribbling the ball like a pro and outpacing every other seven and eight year old in the game, grinning maniacally like only an innocent child could the entire time. Waiting for his father to walk up to the house to tell him all about his day, the pranks he played with his friends, the lessens he learned well (but not the ones he didn't), his plans for the weekend which. When he helped Smithington with the various campaign appearances and always acted so gracious and polite, often calming constituents who disagreed with Smithington's and his boss' use of public funds. Then his memories were broken as the smiling cherub turned into a boy terrified and screaming in fear and pain. The boy's screams turned into his father's screams. The boy's Hell turned into his father's Hell.
As Smithington lay in his nightmare, Cutter continued to watch the abuse unfold. The camera had zoomed back out to its original extent. Buck pushed Benny, now covering his privates protectively, to the side. He then jumped up onto the table and sat, his hairy legs dangling. Benny was just arranging himself and pulling down his pant legs to cover his modesty when Buck reached over and grabbed the boy again. This time he pulled him over his lap, spreading Benny's legs so the boy straddled the man's thighs. The man grabbed the boy's hands and helped the boy grip the man's shirt. He guided the boy's unsure hands so Benny pulled off his shirt. The man was now naked chest to hairy naked chest with the boy. He wrapped one hairy arm around Benny's lower back to pull him to the man, and the other arm held the boy's head to the hairy chest, forcing him to inhale the man's scent.
While still holding the 8-year old head to his chest, Buck moved his hand down to the boy's 8-year-old bottom. The hand started to firmly grip the round mounds beneath the shorts. The fingers worked the silky material into the boys crack giving viewers an idea of the sweet depth.
Buck then began his finale. The hand kneading the boy's butt quickly and deftly pulled the shorts down exposing the boy's ass, now only covered by the thin fabric of underwear, still wedged into Benny's crack. Buck lightly spanked the round globes, letting the flesh jiggle beneath the underwear. He then playfully pulled up the boy's underwear so it rode fully into his crack, exposing the pale, smooth, round cheeks. At this point, Benny started to tremble slightly. Buck's big hands each grabbed one cheek an kneaded roughly, pulling them apart and smashing them together. He was clearly enjoying his toy.
Finally and eagerly, Buck pulled down the boy's underpants, giving the pedo world its very first, of many, views of this little boy's naked bottom. He replaced his hands on the boys butt cheeks and resumed molding them, this time, showing off the boy's secret. The camera, naturally, zoomed in to the highlight of this boy's exposure. It was delicious. The tight hole was the same creamy white as the rest of his rump. The hole itself was an almost perfectly tight oval, like a sideways, half-closed eye. When Buck pulled the boy's cheeks apart, the 8-year-old anus morphed into a star as it strained against the man's will to pull it open. Buck ran his finger along it in obvious delight and began prodding the sphincter with his finger tip. He purred deeply, audibly and unintentionally. The boy started to squirm away from the abuse, but a hard, loud smack quieted the boy. A welt in the shape of Buck's hand appeared one the boy ass.
With clear restraint, Buck removed his hands from his new favorite place and, holding Benny, slid off the table. Holding the boy against his chest with one arm, Buck used the other to pull the shorts and underwear down Benny's dangling legs and off onto the floor below. Benny was now only dressed in his bright white socks. His tanned upper body and lower legs were interrupted by a stripe of white that started at his waist and ended halfway down his thighs. As he held the boy, Buck undid the buttons on his shorts and quickly stepped out of them. He turned to his side to give his audience a nice view of the contrast between the boy's tiny smooth body, and the man's own large hairy one. Buck's 8-inch [20 cm] thick cock throbbed in desperation for release as it rubbed against the boy's belly leaving smears of precum across the lad. The boy's cock dangled softly in front of him at a modest 1½ inches [4 cm], foreskin crinkled tightly at the tip.
With exhuberence, Buck flipped Benny upside down. Still facing each other, the man rotated himself and the boy so Benny's backside was once again facing the camera. The man cheerily grinned from between the boy's legs. Benny had given up. He was resigned to the abuse and his legs were relaxed. That is until Buck began his feast. At the first swipe of the tongue, Benny's legs stiffened in surprise. He couldn't believe what the man just did. At the second swipe, Benny relaxed his legs and spread them to the side, giving the man not only easy access, but permission to continue to tongue his anus.
Buck didn't hesitate. He began by licking at the upside down boy's hole. He took long swipes from the boy's balls to the far side of his spread crack. He took small swipes at just the pucker. He spent a minute or two just pulling at the sides of Benny's hole with the tip of his tongue. Then he decided he had enough foreplay. Buck's stiffened tongue forced its way into the small cherry. The boy cried out in shock and his legs stiffened once again, but quickly relaxed. The man's long tongue stayed driven into his anus as the boy's sphicter clenched around it. By the wiggling and squirming of the boy in his arms, it was clear the man was tonguing and prodding the immature prostate, but the viewers only saw the thick muscle disappearing into the small boy. If anyone watching was able to pull their eyes from the amazing sight, they would have noticed the man furiously pumping his cock against the boy's belly.
Suddenly, without warning, the man pulled out his tongue, quickly flipped the boy back over, set him on the floor and turned him around so he faced the camera. The boy landed unstable with a dazed and relaxed look on his face. His cock, for the first time was a stiff 3 inch [7 cm] nail of sex, the foreskin pulled back exposing the sensitive glans. Buck was still pumping his cock and pushed the slimy tip against Benny's cheek. With a growl, he started to come. The first volley sprayed out sideways as Buck's rod was still pressed firmly against the 8-year-old cheek. He then roughly forced Benny's head around so it faced the spurting cock. In moments, the boy's face was a plaster of white creamy goo as the cock sprayed jet after jet of hot cum all over the boy's cheeks, nose, mouth, and hair.
Benny started to cry again. The screen zoomed onto his scrunched up, dripping face as his mouth opened in a hysterical scream and he tried to pull away from Buck. The screen faded to black.
Words appeared on the screen:
"Still too proud. I guess we have more work to do. See you next time
3;"
The video ended.
Cutter looked over at the senior Smithington. He was still passed out. He just couldn't take watching the abuse of his son. Cutter let out a breath and disappeared into the bathroom to deal with his straining cock. Some days, he loved his job.
Smithington had had it all. Now he had torment.
Chapter 4 Skyler's Audition
I stood in what we affectionately called the Hogspen. It was really the orchestra section of an old, run down playhouse. That area directly below the stage that was reserved for the band. There were about twenty of us: (mostly) middle aged men, all with various levels of excitement, eagerness, and impatience. Each of us held a cardboard cutout of an object, each as unique and lewd as the man who held it. Several caught my eye: the silhouetted rear-view of a boy on his knees bent over, his tight scrot dangling; a large penis; a ball gag. And then there was mine. I held onto the silhouette of a life-sized 9-year olds open fist. Madame P, the event's organizer and MC, thought she was funny. Reminding me of the one who got away. I didn't even really have a thing for hands, but Aaron's were just so
3; perfect. I would never forget Aaron.
Anyways, I stood amongst this group of men, all introverted into their own minds, calculating what they could afford and which types of boys they needed. That's right, I was at an auction. A slave auction with a bunch of men who hoped their dream slave was about to walk out on stage above them. Most of the men here were looking to fill out their personal harms, but not I. I was here for business. I was the world's top child pornographer. And I had a slot to fill.
Suddenly the house lights dimmed and the stage illuminated as the spotlights were focused. The milling crowd quieted as a masculine woman's voice blared through the speakers in the auditorium.
"Welcome, welcome, welcome, my good and dear friends," she said. "I have a new acquisition to present to you. Let me introduce
3;"
The half dozen cameras set around the stage turned on. A moment later, I went breathless. Out from behind the curtains strolled the most gorgeous young lad I had ever laid my eyes on, eve better than Aaron. The boy swishayed to a microphone stand at center stage. He wore form fitting Capri style jeans and a holey, white muscle tee. He looked over the crowd with his bright emerald eyes and smiled-nervous, yet confident.
"Hey guys," it sounded like this blondie was talking just to me. "I'm Skyler. With an 'S' not a 'T' and I'm 13 years old today!"
"Happy birthday," I whispered to myself. Everyone else was silent.
"I can't wait to meet my daddy." His eyes locked on mine. He had to be mine. "Let me show you how I can make you happy." His smile turned impish as he winked to me. I was enthralled. And the show began.
***
After a quarter of an hour of a flawlessly executed and amazingly choreographed striptease, Skyler stood, once again in the middle of the stage. This time, though, he was completely naked. His lithe body glistened in sweat, and his thick, six incher [15 cm] stood proud after the whoops and cat calls and, most importantly, ever growing bids. Skyler was exhilarated and very horny. Half of the men in the audience were openly stroking themselves, a dozen cocks drooling at him. Almost all of them had given up their chance to own him. Own him, that was something he would have to get used to, but he liked the idea of being someone's slave. Being controlled completely.
Lost in his euphoria, Skyler hadn't noticed that all of the bidding paddles in the audience had been lowered except one: a boy's fist.
"Sold!" Madame P's voice rang out across the auditorium.
'Wait, what!' Skyler thought, beginning to panic. He thought he was ready for it, he thought he wanted it, but now that it was happening, had happened, he wasn't so sure. Not that he had much of a choice.
His vision swayed his arms felt heavy. He knew he was going to pass out.
"Boy, STOP!" A strong voice came to him. "You will stay exactly as you are."
Skyler looked to the voice. It was the man in a black leather mask who was now climbing onto the stage to him. His new master. His new daddy. He froze. He couldn't fail his first commend.
Then Daddy started to strip. He removed his shirt first, displaying his large, hairy girth. Then he dropped his jeans. Wiry dark hair curled around a leather jock, black inlayed with a baby blue design. It looked very high end. Then that fell to the floor, too, and Daddy was just as naked as him. The audience held its breath.
Daddy picked up the jock and strode confidently over to Skyler. Without saying anything, he had Skyler put on the jock. As the soft leather slid up his thighs, Skyler's nose tasted the waft of his new daddy's ball sweat. The manly musk made the boy's sex throb as he slid his man's underwear over himself.
Suddenly a blast of hot air misted against the back of his neck. "From now on, boy, you will only display yourself at my pleasure." The man now towered behind the kid. Hairy arms reached around Skyler, hugging him against the bear behind him. The hair tickled and scratched his back and butt, but Skyler was distracted. When Daddy pulled his slave to him, his thick, 9 inch [23 cm] erection slid into the 13 year old crevasse.
One of the paws lowered to position the daddy-cock. It now rested against a cherry. "You are going to be a star, boy. Time for your first show."
With a savage thrust 3 inches [8 cm] were forced into the unprepared sphincter.
Unequal pain.
***
"OW! TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT! Please, please pleeease!" Skyler's voice screamed through Cutter's headphones. He was lying in bed staring at the live video of Smithington's eldest's deflowering. He had just gotten back from dragging Smithington Senior to his room after he passed out from watching Benny's molestation. Cutter had already seen that video, of course, and had jacked off to Benny's glazed expression as Buck's monster tongue was poking the 8-year-old prostate. It was a good thing too, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to hold it together while Smithington was watching, too.
Now Cutter was stroking his 35-year-old cock watching another Smithington boy's abuse. He'd missed the lad's striptease, but had logged in just in time to see the boy's new owner shove his massive cock inside the petite 13-year-old without ceremony. This was Cutter's favorite part about watching these auctions. As a rule, once the auction is won, the owner is required to seed his new slave immediately, on stage. A weird rule, sure, but nobody complained.
In "Skyler's" case, the boy was now the proud pet of Big Mister, the sole owner of Big Mister Productions. BMP is the world's most successful boy porn studio and had stakes in dozens of other child porn companies. Not only did Big Mister have an unequaled director's eye, but he was a master cryptographic. He developed and actively maintains the Cyber Babies Security Protocol, which is used by ALL major and minor child pornographers to safely secure transactions.
In short, Big Mister was a loaded kiddie fucker. And in more ways than just wealth. Cutter focused on the screen in front of him. On screen, young Skyler was doing all he could to escape the onslaught to his thirteen year old anus. His legs were stretched to maximum as he stood on his toes. But this attempt was no use. The much taller, much bigger, and much stronger Big Mister far out matched his new property.
The middle aged man held the boy firmly in his grasp. One hand gripped Skyler's hip, while the other wrapped around the kid's chest, fingers pinching and toying with the adolescent nipple. Though the teen was in front, his slender build could not hide the man's ministrations. Cutter watched as the man's darkly tanned hips ground up and down against the pale boy's ass. As the co mogul pumped in and out of the former cherry, Cutter pulled on his own aching rod, eyes glued to the abused.
Skyler, for his part, looked like he had completely reconsidered his situation. Before the sale had been finalized, he looked like an eager little faggot, excited about the new sexual life he was about to experience. Now, he knew better. Tears flowed from his eyes and drool dripped down his chin and chest as he pleaded, now incoherently, to his rapist. His boy-erection had completely deflated.
Suddenly, the middle aged man gave an annoyed grunt and stopped his grind. Quickly, before his property could react, he thrust his hips up, forcing his member deep up the violated rectum, lifting the boy off his feet. In surprise, Skyler's legs flailed involuntarily. Big Mister released his hold on Skyler. Smithington's eldest son was stunned as he was held up solely by his torn hole, stretched around the steel firm rod of his new owner.
Big Mister grabbed Skyler's legs behind the knees. He pulled the boy's legs to his body and spread his own legacy to stable his stance now that he was supporting himself and the child his cock was in on his own. Cutter gasped at the image on screen as the camera panned down the boy and his master's coital bodies. The man's face, masked in black leather rested next to the boy's. Skyler's eyes, red rimmed and crusty with dried tears were closed, but is mouth was agape, teeth bared in pain. The thirteen year old's chest was framed by the pale slender legs. One nipple was dirt brown, the other flaming red and both were hard and aroused. Below, the boy penis began to harden again as the pain of penetration began to subside, replaced by the pleasure of bottoming and the unrelenting prepubescent gay sex hormones. Big Mister's big, hairy scrotum dangled with full orbs under the silky teenaged cheeks. Above the man's testicles stood his girth, wedged in the hairless hole.
The large man began to lift the boy up and down on his erection. He manipulated the boy's ass on his cock like a living masturbatory. All too soon, the man turned his head and spoke words to the boy, unheard by the microphones.
"YES!" Tyler shouted loudly in his teenaged lust. "Cum in me. Seed me. Breed my ass, Master!" He screamed, almost pleading. That was it. Cutter snorted and began to cum, imagining the boy's begs were for him.
The man on screen, too, responded appropriately. Big Mister picked up his pace, slamming the boy on his penis, using his human fleshjack as the sex object it had become. He pulled Skyler up until only the barest tip of his old, middle aged cock was in his boy. Then he slammed the boy down to his balls. His guttural, primal grunts were met in a chorus of the boy's gasps and high pitched moans. After a half dozen thrusts, the man pulled the boy down hard lodging his nine inch [23 cm] beater deep in Skyler's guts, his grunts becoming a constant deep scream. The base of his cock twitched violently as his balls tightened, unloading his spunk, for the first time, in this thirteen year old boy that was now his completely.
***
They stayed like that for a few minutes, gasping for breath. With an audible slurp, Big Mister pulled the aching anus, and the boy it belonged to, completely off his cock. The destroyed rectum gaped open and immediately drooled the pale sludge, tinted with red, which splattered on the ground.
Cutter made an effort to fight the afterglow. He wanted to see this next part, a staple of Big Mister, and these auctions weren't allowed to be recorded.
Skyler got to his feet, swaying unsteadily as his body and mind tried to reconcile the abuse with the amazing feelings. His barely teenaged dick was still rock hard and throbbing for release. The only time it had gone soft since he came on stage was during Big Mister's initial assault. He leaned against his master, too weak to stand on his own. But his owner had other plans.
The older man kicked the boy behind the knees, dropping him to the floor. Kneeling and naked, Skyler looked up at the big, hairy beast before him confused.
"All right guys," Big Mister orated to his audience, "You know the drill. No touching. You have ninety seconds
3;" he glanced the clock on the wall off screen. "GO!"
Cutter could see that Skyler's eyes, on screen, filled with panic as the dozens of members of the audience - most of whom had tried to purchase him - rushed the stage, clambering with desperation to get to the kneeling, naked, and still aroused boy. The scene was almost comedic as the men, desperate to commit some abusive depravity, tripped out of their pants and crowded around the terrified boy.
One of the camera men had to push through the glut of hairy, sweaty, horny perverts to hold his camera over the boy, making sure to capture the show. He got the camera ready just in time as a thick, steaming rope of white cum landed on Skyler's lips. That man was quickly pushed out of the way by a buff body builder with an angry looking cock who knelt down before the bewildered boy and shot a powerful jet against the boy's cock. The ooze dribbled down between the boy's legs and dripped to the floor from his tight scrot. Then the white jets became constant and unrestrained.
Big Mister hadn't needed to set his time limit. By the end of the first minute, all the men had spent themselves on Skyler. The boy soft body was covered in the cum of every man in attendance. His chest and belly oozed slime. His face was plastered, cum dribbling from his lips, dripping down his cheeks, and masking his eyes in a pearl cream. His hair was loaded, gobs of white frosting resting on his hazel-colored hair. His arms and legs gleaned the light reflects off the dreams of jizz coating them.
And his crotch, the star cumrag on this boy's body. During the boykkaku, Skyler had instinctively leaned back and close his legs tightly to create a makeshift bowl of his crotch and the men gave him what he clearly wanted. Now, his aching hard four incher [10 cm] stood proudly out of a pool of white seamen cocktail. Big Mister smiled at the boy's initiative.
"Okay, boy, show us how much you like us," the man ordered his slave. Skyler, eyes closed and covered in cum, grinned openly, allowing the pool of cum on his lips to dribble onto his tongue and grabbed hold of his slimy thirteen year old cock. He licked more cum from his lips as he began stroking himself with a fury. Cum splattered from the pool in his crotch as he masturbated in front of these spent perverts, and the thousands watching live online across the world.
With a high pitched cry and a gasp of relief, the boy came, a blast of clear, immature boy-jizz followed by a dribble as his sperm mixed with the sperm of the men around him. As Skyler's hand dropped and the boy slumped in exhaustion, the camera faded. The show was over.
"Holy shit," Cutter said to himself, his shirt wet with his ejaculate. "This kid is going to make us a fortune."
Chapter 5 Benny Gets Mouthy
Three Months Ago
The brown haired boy of eight sat on the small bed in the plain room alone. He was hugging his knees and rocking slightly back and forth in fear. The last time Benny had been in this room, that man, Buck, had done stuff to him that he'd always been told it was wrong. A lot of the stuff that man did to him Benny didn't like, like when he'd peed that white stuff onto his face. But other stuff was nice. Looking back, Benny liked the physical intimacy Buck gave, and he really like what Buck did to his bottom, as long as he didn't think about it being his bottom. But this stuff was wrong. He knew that. And he knew he was being bad liking it.
Benny was very confused. He liked some of that stuff, but he didn't like that he was forced to do it. He knew his father would find him so all he needed to do was fight off for a little longer. But he was back in this room. Benny tried not to look at that table and chair on the opposite wall. He tried to ignore the camera hanging from the ceiling pointing at him on the bed. But they were there. And he was here in this room. He knew what that meant even before the door unlocked and that man, shirtless in tight jeans and black army boots walked in at the room and smiled at him.
Now
Adam Smithington leaned back in his chair, gulping a mouthful of whiskey, letting it stew on his tongue before allowing it to burn down his throat. He liked whiskey. It made him forget things, even if only for a short while. Like his son and the abuse. He had searched and searched, but his expert investigative skills failed him. He had failed. He lost his children, all three of them. His eldest son had chosen to become deviant sodomite, no surprise. His daughter, he had no sign of, but he knew she was undoubtedly a sex slave. His history as a prosecutor left no doubt in his mind about that. But worst of all, his baby boy, his pride and joy, Ben, honored to be named after Smithington's own father, was a forced sex show for the millions of perverts of the world.
And there was nothing he could do about it. His leads were dead ends. He failed. This was the end.
*RING*
The phone interrupted his self-pity. Odd. Nobody knew this number. After the expense of his fruitless search, he was forced to sell his estate and now lived in this dingy apartment. They charged rent weekly. He wasn't trusted to honor his debts. Probably a smart assumption.
He picked up the phone. "Hello."
"Smithington? It's Agent Cutter." Came the crackle through the speaker in the handset.
"Cutter." Smithington replied tonelessly.
"Yes. From the UN Taskforce-"
"I remember you," Smithington cut in, "What do you want."
The voice on the other end of the line hesitated. Then, "They've released another video of Benny."
"His name is Ben," Smithington's chest tightened, "and I don't want anything to do with it. It's too late for him. I'm done."
"Don't give up. This one is very revealing. They made a big mistake. I think we know where they are, but we need you. You have the most experienced with this group. You know them and more about their bases than any of us. I think," Cutter's voice grew excitedly hopeful, "I think, with your help, we can find them, and quickly."
Smithington didn't respond.
"Smithington. You're wrong. It isn't too late for Ben. He needs you."
Smithington took a deep breath. No. He couldn't give up. He wouldn't give up.
"Okay. Where are you Cutter?"
***
Cutter stood as Smithington entered his hotel room. Wordlessly, he pulled over a chair for the be grieved but determined father and started the video. Cutter had watched it twice before contacting Smithington as instructed, and once again waiting for him. He'd cum all three times, hoping to calm himself down. Last time, he almost blew his cover, but Smithington had been too distracted. He would be much more focused and prepared this time.
On screen, Benny sat in the middle of a twin sized bed with Ninja Turtles sheets on it. An obvious, but classic setting that gay pedophiles loved. Good choice, Cutter thought to himself. Almost as good a choice a what the boy was wearing: a light blue shirt, with some sort of print on the front. Whatever the shirt said, it was obscured by the boy's legs that were the main attraction, silky smooth, pale white, protruding out of the very skimpy navy blue cotton shorts. The eight year old was obviously oblivious to what he was displaying, but how he held his legs, gave the camera, and by extension, the internet, a frustrating tease. The leg holes of Benny's shorts were wide open and had slipped down. It looked like the boy wasn't wearing any underwear because the hairless globes of his cheeks peeked out. Except there was a thin red band that ran along the boy's waist above his shorts. It was a pervert's view, and each time he saw it, Cutter's penis jumped to erection, including this time as he sat next the boy's father.
Smithington didn't notice the unintentional sexuality of the pose, but then again, he wouldn't would he? He only had eyes for his boy. His stare, unwavering, somehow mixed impending horror and intense rage at the same time. Cutter knew he had to play his hand well, because if he slipped up, and gave Smithington the hint that he was enjoying Benny's abuse, nothing would save him.
He pushed these fears aside as Smithington growled threatening. On screen, the bearded, shirtless man leaped onto the bed, launching the scared little boy four feet in the air. The bounce caused Benny's arms and legs to flail helplessly. Buck was surprisingly deft as he caught his captive as a man carried his bride to her wedding night deflowering. Before the boy realized what was happening, the large man dropped to the bed, with the boy under him. The two faced each other - the man grinning in glee, the boy clearly terrified, but also clearly trying to hide that.
The man didn't hesitate at all. He pressed his stomach onto the boy, smashing him to the bed. The boy gave a quiet grunt as his body disappeared under his molester's. The man began to roughly stroke the boy sides and arms as he lowered his mouth to the boy's. Benny fought, turning his head, trying to prevent the man from his goal, but failed. The man's lips engulfed the boy's entire mouth. The eight year old eyes glared into space.
Beside him, Cutter could see Smithington's body beginning to convulse in anger. The man would snap. He knew it, but he also knew that he couldn't be anywhere near when he did.
Three Months Ago
Benny lay there trying not to think. He knew he had no power here. He knew he could do nothing to stop this man. So he put all his energy into not thinking. If he thought, he would be thinking about the second real kiss in his life. That it was the second kiss that this man had given him. If he allowed himself to think, he would think about the scratchy-yet-soft beard tickling his lips. He would think about the thick whet tongue poking the back of his throat, sliding along his teeth, massaging his own, much smaller, prepubescent tongue. For a moment, he thought of being a rebel. He thought of biting the big thick tongue. But he didn't think that would help. Besides, this wasn't so bad.
Yet.
The man, Buck, was moaning. Benny could feel the man's saliva dribble onto his little tongue as the man's taste buds, aroused, began to drip. Benny could feel the man's hardness on his thigh. Buck began to grind into it. Benny knew what this hardness was. It was the man's pecker. It was hard when it peed white stuff on his face. Benny hoped the man wouldn't do that again, but knew he probably would. Buck had REALLY liked that for some reason.
Buck continued to rub Benny's little eight year old boy body, squeezing his sides and arms. Benny, trapped under the enormous immovable pedo bulk, just lay there, trying to keep his mind blank, pretending this wasn't happening to him.
Then it started. The man eagerly pushed Benny's shirt up his sides and tummy. The man backed off a bit, releasing the boy's mouth so he could slip the shirt over Benny's head. Benny tried not to, but found himself looking into the dark green eyes of his captor. Buck caught the boy's gaze and his beard split into a wide smile as he started massaging and admiring the boy's smooth, taught chest and stomach. Benny tried not to enjoy it. He really did. Instead, he found himself pushing back against the meaty hands for more.
Buck scooted down, slipping his hands down the boy until they were at the top of Benny's waist. The boy didn't move.
"Good boy," Buck murmured to his victim. Tears of shame at what he was allowing came to Benny's eyes. But what could he do? He was only eight.
The hands at his waist began to move down again taking the boy's shorts off. Benny closed his eyes and the tears ran down his cheeks. He felt Buck lean back over him. Chest to chest, the man slipped his hand behind Benny, hugging him. This was nice. Benny, without thinking hugged the man back, desperate for any form of kindness despite the man's obvious ulterior motive.
The man lifted up, bringing Benny with him, then turned so he sat on the bed, feet on the floor. Benny still rested against the hairy man-chest, stood awkwardly on the bed.
Now
Cutter suppressed a gasp at the view as Smithington moaned in emotional pain for his kid. The picture on the screen: a small, very white eight year old boy, back facing forward, engulfed in the massive gorilla arms of a hairy 45 year old pedophile. The boy was squatting, pressed against the man, his only clothing was a bright red child-sized thong. The red line bisected the milky globes of the boy bottom, and below, pushed down by the skin-to-skin contact, was a little red pouch. Though this was Cutter's fourth viewing, and he knew the film had been recorded months ago, he couldn't help but imagining that this was a live show just for him. He really needed to cum again.
But then he glanced at Smithington. The man glared daggers into the screen at the man who had sexified his little boy. Cutter saw the verge of insanity in that look. Perfect.
In the video, Buck generously gave the viewers a few moments to admire the thonged boy ass as the came a zoomed in. Then he lifted the boy up and set him on the edge of the bed, standing up himself. As he did so, his enormous bulge became obvious in his jeans. Benny's eyes followed this bulge the whole time Buck was standing and stayed locked on as it turned to face him at head height.
Smithington frowned at his son's interest.
Buck said something quietly to the boy. Either the microphones were off in this film, or it had been edited out. The boy stared up at Buck blankly and cocked his head to the side. Buck repeated himself and gestures to his bulge.
Hesitantly and timidly, the boy raised his hands to the waistband of Buck's pants. He looked up again as if asking if this were right.
"No," Smithington's voice interrupted the intense silence.
"No no no," he repeated as if instructing his son from the future and thousands of miles away.
But, of course, Benny didn't get those instructions. Instead, Buck nodded encouragingly. So Benny, still wary, unbuttoned the man's fly and clumsily pulled his zipper down. The opening revealed a dark pubic bush. Buck was freeballing. The man nodded again and said, "Pull it out, boy." The audio was working now.
Benny, with a look of mild disgust and intense curiosity, reached his hand into his leader's pants, grabbed hold of the large, hard cock, and pulled.
With effort, the man's dick sprung free of the constraining pants. The camera work was perfect as it caught, in slow motion, the splatter of pre as it whipped across the eight year old face diagonally from the corner of his mouth, across his nose, and just under his eye.
Benny started back in surprise, but Buck was firmly in control. He grabbed the slender arms and wrapped the boy's hands around his cock. His girth was so big, that the boy's hands just barely encircled it. The man guided the boy to start stroking his dick, rolling the skin back and forth as he smoothly kicked off his boots and removed his jeans.
Benny looked absolutely confused as to what the point of all this was. Cutter thought that he should also be confused about what this image would do to the millions of men who would watch it. Naked Buck standing directly in front of little Benny clothed only in a hot red sexy thong. The man's erection pointed directly at the boy's face who was masturbating it two handed, pumping it at his little button nose.
A long, glistening drip of pre oozed out of the man's urethra. Because of the jerky jerking, the dribble swung back and forth until the end made contact with the smooth chest in front of it. For about a minute this continued. The boy pumped the man's cock with a swinging rope of pre connecting the two, man-cock to boy.
Cutter was mesmerized and ached to relieve himself again. But he heavy, labored breathing next to him reminded him he wasn't alone.
Buck then put his hands on the boy's shoulders, giving him permission to stop. The boy pulled a couple more times before getting the hint and removing his hands from the hot flesh rod.
The man then knelt in front of the boy, spreading the kid's legs. He lowered his head to the eight year old lap. And began bobbing his head up and down. This was the part of the video that frustrated Cutter the most. It was such a tease knowing what the man was doing, but not being able to see it. Cutter hated soft core.
While still mysteriously manipulating the boy's crotch with his face, Buck pushed the boy's legs up and lowered his head further. Benny's face was utter bliss as the man orally sexed him. He grabbed the man's head and held on as intense new feelings spread through his crotch.
"You son of a bittch. What are you doing to my boy?" Smithington said out loud but to himself. It almost seemed like he thought he was alone, Cutter forgotten.
Three Months Ago
Benny moaned in pleasure at the man's tongue that was, once again, buried deep in his anus. He had forgotten about his promise to himself to ignore his abuse. It just felt too good to ignore. So he focused his eight year old mind on the feelings in his butt. The stretching, the odd jolts of pleasure.
But, of course it didn't last. The man looked up at him. Benny thought he looked surprisingly sensitive with the boy's hands holding his head.
"Now it's my turn, baby boy." Buck's words unnerved Benny as the man tucked the little boy boner back in the red pouch of his weird underwear. He didn't want to put the the man's wiener in his mouth and he REALLY didn't want to put his tongue in the man's butt! He really hoped he didn't have to do that. Maybe if he got Buck to pee that white stuff again, he wouldn't have to do that. Yes, that was the best plan, the boy decided.
The boy quickly grabbed the man's cock in his little hands and began stroking, hoping to get the man off quickly.
He heard Buck chuckle. "Well, you sure are eager," the man put his hand on the top of the boy's head, forcing it to his cock. "Now open up and let me in."
The eight year old knew what was expected, and he knew what he had to do. But he couldn't do it all at once. Baby steps, he thought to himself as he stared at the angry purple head drooling a mess. Benny stuck out his tongue and touched the tip. It was surprisingly mushy, and really didn't taste that bad. Pretty salty and a little sweet. He could do this. He couldn't tongue the man ass hole, but he could suck his prick.
So he opened his mouth as wide as he could. With the man's hand a constant pressure on the back of his head, he led the big dick into his small mouth. Buck cooed, "Oh yeah. That's good, baby boy."
Benny was staring to like that pet name.
The cock went deeper, and deeper sliding along the little boy tongue, lubricating it with that salty sweet goo. Benny found himself having trouble breathing and then the tip hit a spot at the back of his mouth and his throat convulsed. Buck gripped his head harder, preventing him from moving. The boy panicked, sure he was going to suffocate, but the feeling quickly passed and he was okay.
Guided by his molester, Benny began to bob on the pedophile's penis. It continued to squirt little streams of salty sweet into his mouth, and Benny was beginning to like it. Buck was making a lot of strange noises and before long, he pulled one of Benny's hands off of his cock. He started to suck on the boy's fingers. Benny, concentrating on the cock in his mouth, didn't even notice as Buck guided his spit coated hand between the man's legs. He didn't notice until he felt a tightness around his fingers.
He backed off the cock aghast, but Buck held his hand firmly inside the man. Benny looked up at the hairy face concerned.
"Do you want more, baby boy?" Buck asked threatening, annoyed by the interruption, silently implying the answer was 'yes'.
Benny knew it was now or never. His fingers in the butt was gross, but not as gross as the other thing in his mind.
"I want you to pee that white stuff."
Now
"You want me to p-" Buck said on screen, looking baffled. Then he smiled as the little boy blushed. "Oh. Okay. If you insist. Here." He waggled his cock at the boy. Cutter's erection pushed painfully against his pants as the boy in the video eagerly slipped the man's cock between his soft lips. Buck grabbed the boy's head to steady it, then began to forcefully thrust his cock into the eight year old mouth. In and out. In and out.
Cutter looked at his guest. Smithington's left hand was clenched in a fist over his heart and his right was gripping the chair arm.
On the computer, Buck's pace quickened as the boy struggled to breath. Slurps and gags filled the speakers on Cutter's laptop as the man's hairy balls slapped the boy's chin. All too soon, the man stopped and pulled his cock almost entirely out of the little mouth, just leaving the tip in. He sighed loudly and his cock started to jump, pumping his seed directly onto the boy's tongue. He wanted the kid to taste it.
"Swallow," The man ordered. The boy, looking ill, to a massive swallow as the man's load slithered down this abused throat.
"I'm going to kill you, fucker," Smithington said coldly to the screen, "You're a dead man."
Cutter smirked to himself as Buck once again got on his knees in front of the youngest Smithington and blew him. It wasn't long before the boy shuddered in his first orgasm.
The man stood up, helped his baby boy up, too, and together they walked out of the room, on fat hairy man ass butting against a little pale boy ass bisected by a hot red string. The camera followed them out the door into a lobby-like room with a panoramic view of the New York City skyline then faded to black.
***
"What the hell was that, Cutter?" Smithington was pissed.
Chapter 6 Payback Date Night
Attorney General Preston McIntery typed in the secret URL. Yes! There was a new one, right on schedule. McIntery clicked on the title "Payback: Date Night" and leaned back in his leather office chair, unbuckling his trousers. The screen changed, loading the custom theme for this particular star while the video player loaded. McIntery would be able to download the video later, but Buck liked making his special clients wait a little. If they wanted to see new films as soon as they released, they had to stream them like everyone else. McIntery suspected this was because the shrewd Buck wanted to have proof of involvement in case of betrayal. These movies were worth it to McIntery, especially the Payback series starring the little eight year old son of McIntery' former political rival, Adam Smithington.
He pulled his thick, 8.5 inch [21 cm] dripping cock out of his pants and admired the webpage as the video loaded through the secure connection. While he was on a modern broadband connection, the website wasn't so McIntery decided to examine the webpage while the video loaded. In a flesh tone that perfectly matched Benny's smooth milky tummy were the words: Benny Smithington Sex Toy. The fleshy words were wrapped in black bands, alluding to a leather/bondage theme. McIntery had been surprised by the title. Most of the "actors" here used phony stage names, but this was a special situation after all. Nobody was trying to hide anyone. Below the title were the words "in training" in a "stamped on" font. From experience, McIntery knew that once these words were removed, Benny would be a perfect little sex-boy. He couldn't wait.
On the side of the screen was a new picture of little Benny. It was a point of view shot from above. Benny was kneeling, looking up at the camera, mouth agape slightly with drool all over his chin. In his eyes, wonder. In his barely visible, baby blue briefs, a little eight year old hard on. In his hand, held inches from his lips, a man's erection, glands exposed, foreskin rolled back and ready for some fun. McIntery ahhed in appreciation. The video was loaded.
The screen went black. Through the speakers, McIntery could hear the soft breathing of small lungs. The words "Payback" swung on screen. The breathing increased and was joined by alto moans and coos. "Payback" swung off screen. A deep man's voice said "Do you like that, Baby Boy?" The breathing, now shuddering was interrupted by the high prepubescent words, "Ooh, yes. Wait. I feel weird again
3; Oooh!". "Date Night" appeared on screen with the deep man's voice saying "That's really good, Baby Boy. What'd you think?". The words faded. "I like your white pee
3; Can we do it again?"
'Oh fuck yeah,' McIntery thought, 'this is going to be awesome!'
The video started with an old-school film montage, complete with sepia and faux film scratches, all set to the classic busty music of a porn film. McIntery recognized the work of BoiKisR, an artsy-type who occasionally did work for Buck Training Videos. The montage started with a slow twirl as Buck spun a laughing Benny in his arms. Scenes of an amusement park quickly filled by. The man and boy on a roller coaster, Benny terrified, hiding in the man's arm. Buck winning one of those stupid carnival games and giving Benny a stuffed animal. Then Buck was chasing Benny, playfully into the surf of a pristine beach. The boy turned the tables and launched his smooth little body at the hairy man's. They went down in the ocean foam. Coming up, Benny's board shorts had slipped down, showing his pale butt. The camera man got a good shot of the couple as the man stood up, boy's arms around his neck, his big paws kneading and spreading the boy ass, showing off the tight eight year old sphincter to the delight of the masturbating pedophile attorney general. The boy reached behind him and pulled his shorts up, glaring seriously at his molester. The man stared back, somewhat unabashed before they both broke into laughter, falling into the waves. Then, the eight year old's tongue swirled around a cream sickle, his face a gooey mess of white ice cream. Subtle. Finally, the pair walked away from the camera into the sunset hand in hand as the screen faded into black.
'How sweet,' Meek thought sarcastically. ' the boy looked like he had fun, it was now time for him to pay back the man for his date.'
The new scene opened in very high class living room showing the empty couch behind a glass coffee table with a stocked bar off in the background. After a moment, Buck entered the frame, carrying Benny in his arms. He dropped the boy unceremoniously onto the couch. Benny giggled as he bounced on the cushions. The pair were wearing the same clothes they were in the video: Buck had on a light pink muscle shirt and short, pale green shorts. Benny wore a similar shirt, this one was bright white, but too small. It hugged his tiny chest tightly, his nubby nipples poking out the fabric. His midriff was exposed in the too short shirt. He also wore short shorts, tight, and bright red.
"Did you have fun, Baby Boy?" The deep voiced, bearded mouth asked cheerily.
"Yes, sir!" Piped the boy happily. He was bouncing energetically in his seat as Buck walked around the couch, smiling.
Benny's attention followed his master as he walked to the bar. The boy spun around and was now kneeling on the couch, facing away from the camera. His shorts were very tight. A wedgie shoved in his little crack gave McIntery an unneeded reminder of the little boy's silky smooth bubbly butt.
Benny wiggled his butt unconsciously, his cheeks sliding against each other, as he asked Buck, "What are you doing, sir?" His training was going well. McIntery' dick throbbed in his had as a large drop of pre globbed out of his dick slit.
"Don't ask questions, boy," Buck said firmly as he poured a generous amount of liquor into a glass. He walked back to the couch and handed the glass to the boy before plopping down. "Drink it." Benny could tell the man's demeanor had changed. "All of it. Now."
The boy tipped the glass to his lips and began drinking. Before he got very far, he coughed and started gagging. He had stopped to recover. Buck roughly grabbed the boy's head in one hand and the glass in the other and forced the liquid down the protesting throat. The man set the glass down, then immediately pulled the boy to him in an embrace, before Benny could recover.
The man's lips meet the boy's. Almost simultaneously, they each slipped their tongues out of their mouths, pressing them against each other, Benny's little, bright red tongue dwarfed by the massive muscle sticking out of the man's beard. The two stayed like that for a few minutes, side by side making out, little body contrasting with big body. The man's tongue fought playfully with the boy's, each alternating between forcing itself into his partner's mouth and retreating to suck on the others tongue.
All the while, the two were petting each other like a pair of high school sweethearts. Buck rubbed the eight year old's belly, while the boy had reached his little hands in the arm holes of the man's tank top and was playing with his nipples. The alcohol had clearly worked to loosen the boy up.
Suddenly, Buck broke off the kiss and went to the camera. The view swing as the man took it in his hand. McIntery imagined it was him walking towards the boy whose head was cocked to the side in mild confusion. McIntery imagined it was him who slid off his shorts as the boy grinned knowingly. McIntery imagined it was his leaking cock that stood up as he lay on the couch, beckoning the eight year old. He imagined it was his pre the boy was licking. His dick head in the boy's mouth. His eyes the boy was gazing into in admiration. McIntery rubbed his cock, spreading his pre around the top half, imaging it was Benny's saliva.
He played with his tits as a hairy paw came on screen and guided the little head off the dick. Benny was pushed back onto his back. Spread eagle, the little rod was clearly hard in the red shorts. The hand rubbed the boy's crotch before awkwardly pulling down the shorts one handed. The eight year old prick sprung free. No undies. What a slut!
The camera dove to the boy's crotch. High pitched oohs and ahs filled the room as the camera bounced up and down on the boy's pale white, silky smooth pubes. McIntery stuck his little finger into his mouth and began sucking, imagining he was with the boy, staring at that smooth, white crotch. In the corner of the view, the boy's hips began to buck urgently. The camera suddenly swung up, looking at the little face, flush and tight in pleasure.
"Do you like that, Baby Boy?" Before going back down on the little nail.
"Yeah, Baby Boy, do you like Daddy sucking your itty dicky?" McIntery mumbled around his finger.
"Ooh, yes," the boy was saying in his throes. "Wait. I feel weird again
3; Ooooh." screams blared out of the computer speakers as the boy curled up around the camera cumming in an intensity only a boy could cum.
The camera shifted, now looking down at the recovering Benny. His stomach pulsed quickly as he caught his breath. He looked up with a sheepish grin and lazy, drink eyes. "That was good."
Buck laughed behind the camera. "My turn now, Baby Boy."
"Okay." The boy said obediently as Buck settled back on the couch. Benny leaned over the man in just his too small tank top and, without hesitating, impaled his mouth on the man's rigid member, gagging in the process. Buck's free hand pushed the boy down deeper. The boy obeyed, the alcohol killing his resistance as he gagged and tried to breathe. He slurped up and down like the man's prick was a cream sickle.
Too soon, in McIntery' opinion, the man pulled the pre-teen off his cock again. He then pushed the boy's head below his prick. Confused, Benny rubbed his face against the man's balls. The camera shook "no" and pushed the boy's head down farther while Buck lifted his hips.
"Oh, God," McIntery said out loud, "is he really going to
3;"
On screen, the boy's face, between the man's hairy legs convulsed in horror, realizing what Buck was forcing it to do. The boy shook his head, eyes wide, jaw slack. Big mistake.
The camera swung and shook at the pedophile's fury. The man grabbed the boy's hair, taking him up to his knees and slapped him hard across his cheek. The visible hand closed in a fist and then jabbed hard into the little belly. Benny doubled over in pain, but was yanked up again by his hair. Buck's hand cupped the boy's balls and now-soft penis and squeezed. Hard. The boy screamed bloody murder as tears gushed out of his bulging eyes. The man let go, but the boy was frozen in pain.
"Never," the hand slapped the kid's balls, "say no," slap, "to me," slap, "again!". He hit the boy in the face again and leaned back on the couch, legs spread, giving the boy easy access to his middle aged hairy hole.
The boy, tear stained and terrified, looked despondent at the man's anus. He steeled himself and bent his face down, closing his eyes tightly. The view the camera gave was obscured by the man's body and dick, but McIntery could immediately tell the boy had been beaten into submission. The thick, hairy legs on screen flexed and relaxed with pleasure as the man started masturbating his penis. McIntery matched Buck's strokes as he put himself in the filmmaker's shoes, imagining the little tongue inside of him. Buck's on screen legs lifted up, giving the boy more access. Benny's head nodded up and down with the swipes and stabs of his tongue as the eight year old tasted his first asshole ever. Buck bore down and grinded his ass into the little boy's face, getting as much preteen tongue inside his butt as he could.
This was it for McIntery. His cock erupted in a fountain of white joy. Buck wasn't far behind his audience. Still stroking himself, Buck deftly got up while turning the boy over so he lay on his back. McIntery was surprised to see the boy was hard again. Buck positioned himself over Benny's innocent looking face, cheeks wet with tears, mouth and chin wet with spit. Buck aimed his cock. "Open up." The boy did. Just in time. The video slowed to capture every detail as the man's seed jetted out of his cock and directly into the boy's open, waiting mouth. The camera shifted and zoomed in on the red lips of the boy, still open with a pearly pool of man-jizz filling his mouth. The eight year old tongue emerged from the cum pool and forced the man's ejaculate down the little boy's throat.
"That's really good, Baby Boy. What'd you think?"
"I liked your white pee." Benny said looking up at the camera, wiping his mouth with his arm.
"And the other part
3; ?" Buck prodded.
Benny blushed and glanced down. He said, "it wasn't as bad as I thought
3;" After a moment's hesitation, the preteen added, "Can we do it again?" And wrapped his arms around the man.
The video ended. McIntery was suddenly very tired after his cum, so he reached over to turn off his computer, but something caught his eye. The webpage refreshed itself. "In training" was now gone. Good boy.
***
Adam Smithington sat alone in his apartment staring at the late payment notice. He'd lost everything and he was about to be evicted from the cheapest housing he could find. It was time for his personal nuclear option. He started his laptop. He connected to a neighbor's wireless network. He logged into the attorney general's cybercrime evidence servers using a secret identity he created when he was still on their payroll. He browsed to the familiar section and began the mass download.
He had no choice. He had to do whatever it took to get Ben back. He rationalized with himself as the photos and videos began appearing on his computer. The first one he remembered well: 11 year old Annie Doughter, a white girl, naked, with a six month old baby bump aligning a 9 inch [23 cm] black cock to her vagina.
He had no choice
3;
Intermission
Agent Cutter is rewarded with a couple of unreleased photo sets of Benny's continued abuse
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