Todd Sayre

Boy Fuck on the Titanic

and other stories

#1
8y/o Boy Sold for Sex

The following story is based on a real event. I believe the names were changed to protect the "GUILTY" This occured during the 1960's.

Part One

I'm awakened from my nap in what I remember was the living room floor. Daddy is there with me pulling my clothes off and removing my underwear. I felt cold. My blanket was no longer on me but shoved aside. Daddy is naked and breathing hard and is whispering to me words I don't understand. But I do remember him saying my name and telling me that I was gonna make daddy better. This I understood. Daddy got all my clothes off and sits on top of me. Daddy rubs his pee-pee against my nose a few times and he does that heavy breathing thing. He takes his pee-pee in his hand and rubs it against my lips then he tells me to lick it. I don't want to and I start to cry, but daddy spanks me hard and I cry even louder, my mouth wide open. Daddy puts his pee-pee in my crying mouth muffling my screams and begins to rock back and forth making his pee-pee go in and out of my mouth. Still rocking daddy makes all kinds of funny noise that I stop crying and I listen. I let my daddys pee-pee slide in and out and then suddenly my daddy squirts some pee into my mouth(I would later find out that it was sperm, not pee). It tastes bad as I swallow it, choking and coughing on his sticky water. Daddy pulls his pee-pee out of my mouth and rubs it against my face. It feels warm and wet. Tries to shove it in my nose for minute and then lays it on my forehead and starts to rub it back and forth. My skin starts to burn because daddys pee-pee is rubbing so fast and my skin is dry. Daddy startes breathing heavy and making those funny noises. He calls my name out over and over,"Oh Garrett! Garrett! Oh my god, Garrett!" Then daddy stops rubbing his pee-pee on my head. Daddy gets off me and spreads my legs and daddy lays between them and puts my pee-pee in his mouth. He closes his mouth and now I'm scared he'll eat my pee-pee off, but doesn't. Daddy moves his head up and down my pee-pee. Something starts to happen to my pee-pee. It feels like its growing like it does when daddy gives me a bath. It feels good and I like what daddy is doing. Daddy does this for some time then stops. My pee-pee tingled alot; I remember that but what follows nexts horrifies me. Daddy lays down next to me and makes me lick his butt. Daddy's arm is strong as he shoves my face to his butt, "Garrett make daddy feel good and lick daddy's butt!" I remembered. So I do, afraid daddy will spank me again so I lick and daddy won't let me stop. Daddy made me do it for a long time and when I was finally finished my tongue hurt from all that licking. There was a bad taste in my mouth after that. I would eventually get used to it.

This was my first session with my father which led me to be so sexually hungry. After that first time dad would do these things several times a day on a daily basis and without fail. My dad would always at nap time and before sleep at night would lay me down next to him on the bed. He would put his cock in my mouth and make me hold it in my hand and he would tell me his dick was my bottle and that the white steamy sperm (which I would grow to love) was my milk. I would keep my dads hard cock in my small mouth and I was to suck on it like a baby sucks on a bottle until I fell asleep. Even though I was asleep I always knew when dad would come, because I would start coughing when his seed would splatter the back of my mouth. I would always swallow it and during nap times my father would keeping squirting in my mouth through out the entire nap.

Not long after all this started I began to like my fathers cum and every day I was conditioned to accept my dad's cock into my mouth as being normal and routine. I got to the point where when I was sleepy I just went to my dad and unzipped his pants and stuffed his cock in my mouth on my own. Thats how much I had done.

I bet your wondering why my dad had all this free time to molest me. Dad was a company executive for a famous Company (if I told you the name you would know it right away, but I wont). He was very bright and secure when his life suddenly changed. Dad was in a plane crash just after I was born and the Lear jet he was in crashed on take off causing severe back injuries. He retired from the company semi-wealthy with a generous pension which gave him all the time he wanted to have his way with me and to nurse me like a mother.

There were days when my dad just wouldn't let up; he would bathe my ass so clean and lick my butt for hours. He never butt fucked me until I was 7 and I was introduced to sodomy which gave my dad something new to to play with. Dad was inventive with me. One time when I was six dad used my butt as a dinner plate. Again, growing up with dad, I never thought any of this was perverse. Dad had heated a can of Hormel Chili Beans early in the day and once it was room temprature he made me strip naked in the living room right in front of the tv set. Dad was so excited about this meal he was gonna eat that I noticed that dad seemed like he was going to passout. Dad pushed my head down and told me spread my legs far apart placing a towel just below my balls. Dad took the pot from the stove and proceeded to stuff my ass with the chili beans. At first, I thought he had re-heated the pot and I was terrified that my ass was going to get burned. Dad lay between my legs and started licking the the beans out of my butt. I always liked it when dad licked my butt. He just licked those beans til he got everyone of them and then licked my hole for dessert. Those were one of those so-called 'sessions' with my dad because he was the most perverted man, in my opinion now, in his time.

Finally, When I was 14 still in the same house in Irving, Texas, Dad had himself a car accident that left him paralyzed from the waist down. Dad's sexual appetite abated and could no longer use his cock for sex.

By 14 I was sexually addicted and quite gay and part pedophile. In school I would befriend the cutest boys (after my dads car accident) and have them over for sleepovers, with dad's approval of course, so I could molest my friends during the night. But my sexual desire was so strong that I needed more than just sucking my friends dicks as they slept. I needed interaction. I had contemplated abducting a small child so I could rape him for days forcing him to do everything I wanted. But that never happened. My dad saw how desperate I was to fulfill my sexual hunger that he was willing to help me inspite of his limitations. This would be a gift from him to me for my up coming 15th birthday.

My dad had a cousin of his named, Rachel Donohue who was a junkie strung out on heroin and she knew my dad was kinda wealthy and had, from time to time, pestered him for money for her drugs. Her family had disowned her for the tramp she had become as most of our family had done. She kept away from the family because she felt they hated her and that wasn't far from the truth. Rachel got pregnant by an unknown boyfirend who was clearly mexican because her baby son, Dante had tanned skin (not dark) so she named the baby after the person she thought was the father. She could never prove paternity because she had developed an heroin addicition and most of her money went towards her habit. Her family was totally unware of the baby. She and Dante went from home to home and Dante never knew any house for any length of time. As he grew his clothes were always tattered and his shoes were always worn with holes. Rachel was too strung out to care for her son properly or his education. Rachel and Dante, by fate, had escaped 'THE SYSTEM' and Dante was never placed in school when the time came. It was as if the world had never heard of Dante Moreno Jr., of Dallas, Texas. For Rachel, Dante was a burden and a hindrance to her and her vile needs.

Then one day, Rachel had hit rock bottom when I was trying to fulfill my sexual needs and when my dad was trying to figure out how he was going to help me when the soltuion started knocking on our door.

Rachel stood there with eight-year-old Dante standing behind her. My dad invited her in and he looked at the boy and noticed how dirty he was but my dad could see a beautiful eight-year-old boy under all that filth. Rachel was clearly hurting and desparete and my dad had an idea that he had presented to Rachel. My dad offered her $1000.00 if she would let us raise Dante and she could come and visit him anytime she wanted. "Even though I'm in a wheel chair, Garrett can help me with, Dante," my dad said to her. "It will give Dante a home and food in his stomach and good clothes on his back."

It didn't even take Rachel a minute to consider my father's proposal. "Ok!" she said. "will you give me the cash right now?"

My dad wheeled his chair towards his study,"I'll get the money now," he said.

I was stunned by what was happening. I kept eyeing Dante and I too could see he was a gorgeous boy. My heart was thrilled! I had already planned on fucking this kid in every way imginable. Dante was mine.

My dad gave Rachel the cash and she greedily took it and she had no idea she had sold her eight-year-old son as a sex slave. "Thank you, Don," she said. She went to Dante, who had heard the proposition and knew he was going to stay with us. "Do what they tell you, Dante!" Rachel ordered. With not even a kiss, hug or a goodbye Rachel was out the door and gone.

Dad had heard from a family friend that Rachel had overdosed on Heroin and had died as a result. I still think my dad had felt sorry for her because he went alone to her funeral while I stayed home in the coolness of my air conditioned new bedroom with Dante fucking his brains out!

Summer was upon us and my summer vacation was a week away and my birthday was two days off. "Happy birthday, Garrett!" Dad said, "here's your present. Get him out of those clothes and in the shower!" I didn't hesistate to do just that.

Part Two

I made him brush his teeth and I removed the dirt from under his finger nails. Cleaning him up was quite a task.

Finally, we were ready for the shower. I ran the water to a comfortable temprature and we both got in. Dante didn't appear to be ashamed to be naked in front of me and was certainly not afraid of me washing his cock and ass. Dante's dick grew in my hand as I washed him. My own cock grew hard as I placed my lips on his mouth while I continued to massage that little penis. Dante didn't resist my kisses to his soft lips and he certainly did not resist me when my tongue explored his warm moist mouth. I was feeling so good being back in the saddle again with someone who was awake and allowing me to have my way. I was eager to hear him grunt and moan to the thrusting of my cock into his ass hole and mouth. So far, it had only been almost a hour since his arrival and Dante hadn't hardly made a sound.

Our kissing lasted a few minutes when I began to wash his chest. His tanned skin was extremely soft like a girls skin. I began to plant my kisses on his chest and then on his nipples. My hands were now to his hips holding him steady as I lowered myself to my knees finally arriving to his little dick which was hardened by the massage. Dante didn't protest or move away from me as I slid his penis into my mouth. I closed my lips around his flesh and began to suck him. He stood there wordless while I slid my parted lips along the shaft of his cock. I was in heaven with his submission being as it was. My own cock was so hard and throbbing that I wanted to relieve that powerful sexual urge upon Dante's young body. He was so small for his age and beneath the stench and dirt was this handsome eight-year-old boy with such beautiful innocent eyes. My neck began to hurt from blowing Dante that I had to stop. I wasn't going to enjoy myself in the shower and I didn't want to jack off. Instead, I decided to allow my urge and lust to build where I could let it out on Dante in bed where I could fill him full of my cum.

I washed Dante's ass to perfection as I wanted his entire body clean and perfect. He would be everything I had longed for since dad had become paralyzed and was no longer able to have sex with me.

With the shower finished and Dante clean as a whistle, I picked up my little lover and carried him to my room where I laid him on the bed. The thrill in my heart to have him was building and my lust for this eight-year-old body was now at boiling point. My cock never deflated once while being out of the shower. I closed the door to my room and went to Dante resting him on his back. I went straight for his feet kissing and licking his toes managing to produce a few chuckles of laughter from him. His laugh was musical and angelic. My lips and tongue quickly moved up his leg where I once again found myself at Dante's cock and I proceeded to swallow his cock and balls together finally making him grunt for the first time. I just sucked intensely, but gently that Dante's breathing began to increase. Oh, the softness of that cock! Just remembering its texture on my tongue and lips makes my cock hard right now. Dante's dick was really hard and my moist lips sliding up and down the shaft of his penis was causing him to tense. This boy's first orgasm was near with each hungry thrust of my lips. He was sweating and breathing ragged now and his body began to shiver. Dante's muscles tensed harder as I increased my speed. Finally, Dante moaned and tensed even harder than before, then his mucles relaxed; arms and legs went limp.

He began to sob then cry, "I want my mommy!" He wailed.

"I'm your new mommy," I said. "I'm going to take good care of you and I'm going to give you my dick as your bottle and it'll squirt my milk into you from now on."

Dante continued to cry reminding me of how I had cried when dad began molesting me. But I grew use to my fathers actions and I knew that Dante would as well.

I didn't allow Dante's cries to hinder me in the least. It made my passion and lust far greater than before. I wanted to kiss him but trying to kiss a crying mouth was difficult so I turned Dante around onto his stomach and gave him a good reason to cry. Grabbing the tube of KY jelly I smothered my finger with that cold clear gel and I poked my finger into Dante's ass hole. Dante jerked fiercely to the coldness of the gel and the penetration of my finger causing him to cry louder. I lubed the rim of his rectum applying the gel generously. I was breathing heavy oblivious to Dante's wails when I pushed my swollen cock into him. Dante screamed in pain as I began to thrust my cock in and out of him. I groaned and moaned with each thrust breathing loud and heavy. My cock just plunged into the sweet warm darkness while Dante cried. Even when I came I had no intention of removing or allowing my cock to shrink. I wanted my new love to adjust and accept my cock for its size. Fucking him was a thrill and I took my time pounding my cock into him allowing my heart to thunder in my chest. The feeling was beyond all belief and wonder. What a difference there was to fucking my dad's hole and fucking Dante's tight little one. Dante was my first child fuck and I was having the time of my life.

Dante began to quiet. His wailing subsided to mild cries then to sobs then to grunting as I hammered my stiff hot cock into him. I was elated! Dante was getting used to my swollen dick, but I didn't stop. His grunting was music to my ears. The smell of apple scented shampoo wafted up to my nose like an aphrodisiac. My midsection tingled and my muscles tensed fiercely as I started shooting my wad of warm sticky cum into his warm moist hole! I gasped hard and at the sound of that loud gasp I shot another load never stopping my thrusting. Having sex with dad for so many years had left my muscles and my endurance well developed and I could proceed for another hour without stopping. I shot load after load of steamy sperm into Dante's hole and could feel the cum pooled around the shaft of my cock at the base of Dante's rectum. My warm liquid bathing the head of my cock in his hole caused my orgasms to intensify while it caused Dante to moan, groan and grunt with each hard thrust. So much cum had been squirted into Dante that it felt like I was fucking a water balloon filled with warm water.

With my last squirt of cum I could feel my arms and my back beginning to ache. I had managed to fuck Dante for nearly two hours without stopping. I had poured out my sexual frustration and I had allowed my lust to engergize me for that length of time. But my engery was now gone and I collapsed ontop of Dante's smooth body! I didn't remove my dick from his hole because I wanted my cock to slowly shrink til I heard that wet sticky,"PLOP" sound as my cock vacated Dante's flooded hole. I had enjoyed this fuck that I moaned in exhaustion, "Thank you so much my baby boy for making mommy feel so good." I would be his mommy nursing him daily as my dad had done to me feeding him my cock as his bottle and my cum as his milk.

With the plop of my dick dislogding from Dante's hole I climbed off him and examined the soft rectum. Red from irritation and oozing my cum I buried my face between his butt cheeks lapping at every trace of my own sperm. I licked hungrily at his hole pushing my finger into it trying to milk him for more. Dante only grunted when I poked into him. My tongue explored the texture of his rectum while feasting on sticky semen. Dante was quiet unless I poked in, but the rim job seemed to relax him and sooth his irritated bottom.

When I was finished I lay next to Dante taking him into my arms and stroking that soft skin planting the most passionate kisses I could muster. I was in love with this boy. He gave me the best fuck I ever had and it was with my eight-year-old cousin Dante. With each kiss my hand travelled over his arms, back, ass and finally on to his cock. My tongue once again explored his mouth as I could feel his warm moist tongue against my own sucking into my mouth. My cock had hardened again and was now stabbing Dante in the belly. I repositioned it to lay on his belly never stopping once from kissing him.

Part 3 of this story will follow soon. By the way readers, I was able to confirm that this is a true story that Garrett Miller (the 14y/o in the story) told to his shrink verbatim. The Dr.'s notes ended up circulating around pedo groups in the late 70's and with each telling of this story or its transcription some of the details may have been ommitted. I apologize greatly for any mispelled words or typos. If you like this story please email me or post that you want me to continue it. Now, If you'll all excuse me! Writing this erotic story has got my dick hard and I need to fuck Kenny to release the pressure! Stay tuned readers!!!

Part 3

Whatever the case was, Dante had neither a face of contempt or admiration toward me.

I soon found myself stroking his soft face tracing his features, again planting kisses on his lips. Dante surrendered to my warm embrace and the affection that I was now displaying more liberally. I could feel submission, or was it just fatigue? When you're fourteen you don't have all the answers. So many thoughts raced through my mind – creative thinking planning the next acts of lust upon this kid. I recalled all the games and inventions my father had created and performed on me and I thought of performing them on Dante. My cock began to swell at the idea and I knew that another round with the eight year-old was called for.

Without saying a word, I got up and made Dante lay on his back. I sat on his chest and began to massage my dick. As I did I inched forward toward his face. Dante only watched as I advanced on top of him with my cock growing in my hand. It was time for him to taste my semen and it would coat his belly, bathing his palate in the process. That thought brought on an explosive swelling of my cock; just knowing that I would nurse Dante like the mother I wanted to be. Dad had enjoyed this same task with me and I looked forward when my mouth was stuffed with his cock – his milk in my belly.

As I was properly positioned on top of Dante's body I leaned forward – one hand propping me up and the other on my dick guiding it to his face, rubbing the tip of it against his soft lips; occasionally parting them, feeling the enamel texture on his teeth.

"Open your mouth," I said.

At first no response, then his lips parted hesitantly finally open wide. I inserted my cock into his mouth feeling the warmth and the slick saliva which coated almost half of my prick. I gagged him once on purpose so I could tell how far I could push into him, then I proceeded to thrust in and out. The hand which had been directing my dick had now joined the other in holding me up as my pelvis powered my cock. I closed my eyes feeling Dante's mouth with each orgasmic thrust. My insides quivered with delight, feeling the moisture on his tongue; greeting each thrust with sweet adoration. My heart raced as my breathing again became heavy and labored. I thrust 3; thrusting into dark, erotic bliss and the reality of the moment gave my dick extra length as a gift. Dante moaned in displeasure with each advance of my solid cock. His displeasure was my satisfaction. I had felt like I had died and gone to Heaven.

"Come on baby," I gasped through a shuddering breath, "milk mommy. Mmm 3; oh yeah."

I licked my lips as a smile broke upon my face as the shaft of my cock slid gracefully between Dante's wet lips, working my flesh against his will. My thrusting became more pronounced – going deeper into his mouth fraction by fraction into his soothing mouth – a mouth that was pleasurable, but yet alien to me. Dad's mouth could engulf me with no trouble, but there was a difference in feeling and emotion. It was the factor of innocence that was the major difference. Dad's mouth was well experienced and leathery in a way, while Dante's mouth was innocent and untouched (at least until now) which gave me an extra thrill as my thrusting cock merged with hammering. The sweat on my face began to trickle down my body as my heart and blood powered my fierce erection, my cum was on the brink of flowing – my breathing far more ragged, causing me to pant as each thrust raced faster into Dante's mouth.

"Oh! Yes! Its yours baby! Make mommy feel good!" I exhaled.

Every muscle began pulling violently, tensing as my cock delivered its load, squirting a large stream of sticky, white cum into his mouth. He began to cough and choke as my fluid gloriously flowed from me. Each thrust of my dick between Dante's wet lips caused me to cum again. He tried to cry with a wet gurgle of my sticky seed at the back of his throat hampering his ability to wail, but another helping of my cum stifled further cries. Dante gagged several times nearly vomiting, but was able to hold his gorge. My thrusting was beginning to ease while Dante still struggled to swallow my sperm. From hammering to an easy thrust, I shot one last load into him making him gag and choke once more. I sat motionless upon my new child with my dick still embedded between his soft lips, trying to catch my breath, sucking in a lung full of air.

Dante had swallowed the remainder of the sticky juice while struggling to cry with my cock still fat and wedged between his jaws.

I sat straight up and my penis slid out from between his lips. Dante began to cry loud and clear – the sperm now ingested. I stretched out laying face to face on top of his small frame, squeezing and stroking him, trying to bring comfort to him. All of this was new to him and sensitivity was needed to assure that my future fucks would be conducted with far greater ease and comfort. Dante needed my encouragement, the same that dad had given me to me as he schooled in sex.

"Baby," I said lovingly, "you were such a good boy. You made mommy feel so good. You were so brave, just like a real little man."

His eyes were tear-filled as I complimented him on his first performance as a lover. He stopped crying as I made him feel important. It was probably the first time in his young life he ever received a word of praise. I wondered if Rachel ever encouraged, complimented or supported her son for any accomplishment he had made in his young life. He seemed hungry for the words of praise. "Sweetie, you did so good! You made me so happy and I love you!"

With a sobbing voice he said, "I did?"

"Yes. You're learning how to make mommy feel good. Because you were so nice and brave and because you let me teach you boy-love, I'm going let you have ice cream later on."

He just sobbed wiping his eyes. I planted my lips on his and began to kiss him, parting lips with my tongue. I could taste my own cum that lingered in his mouth. "You like to kiss don't you?"

"Mommy used to kiss me like that," he replied. "She liked to put her tongue in my mouth and look for the Tooth Fairy."

His comments startled me and I began to wonder what else mommy did. "Did mommy do anything else to you?"

"Mommy liked to lick my pee-pee like you did. Mommy told me that I needed from her booby, but it wasn't like your milk. Her booby was here."

He point to his breast to show me the exact spot.

He continued, "Your booby is down there where your pee-pee is."

I now understood why Dante had been cooperative with me when I began sucking on his dick. I understood why he felt no shame in being naked or washed by me. He had been desensitized like me to sexual contact and he accepted it as being normal and common. Except he was conditioned to having sexual interaction with his mother. Rachel had prepared Dante for me without realizing it. Had this little angel been raw from the time I removed his clothing in the bathroom to this point, his cooperation would have been difficult and menacing – forcing me to brutally rape into submission. Contemplating all these things, my lips returned to his and my tongue found sanctuary in his warm, moist mouth. I rolled him over so he was resting on top of me and I placed my index finger up his asshole to begin stretching it for another session of butt-fucking. The progress we were making was sweet and encouraging. The contact we were sharing was my release.

2

Although Dad couldn't get a boner as a direct result of his permanent injuries, he did enjoy watching me jerk-off and he liked to watch as I molested my sleeping friends when they spent the night. It never really bothered me to have him watch me each time I got horny. I was so used to having my Dad in bed with me that modesty wasn't part of the Miller household.

"Ok Dad. We'll be right down," I replied.

3

I had to carry my little lover because his asshole throbbed in pain as he tried to walk. It was almost comical watching him try to walk like a robot, but I took pity on him and understood how it was to get fucked up the ass and deal with the pain afterward, but just as I had grown accustom to the tenderness in my hole, Dante would also get used to having me inside him all day.

Once in the study, I laid out a sleeping bag layered with comforters and a few pillows for added comfort.

"Why don't you begin?" Dad said.

"Don't mind if I do," I said massaging my hardening dick.

I ordered Dante onto his belly, spreading his legs far apart and I mounted him once again, penetrating his soft, tenderized little hole. As my dick slid into him, Dante began to grunt and groan as I began pounding my solid cock deep into the warm, dark void between his ass cheeks. My thrusting was rhythmic, deeper and for a brief moment I thought I could feel his lower intestines as I dug deep into him.

Dante, bless his little eight year-old heart, was only grunting, groaning and panting, rather than crying as I shared with him the love my cock had for him.

Dad watched us that evening as if entranced by the rocking motion of my groin to Dante's rump, with my breathing labored, gasping loud for deep inhalations of air as I rammed my cock deeper. It felt so welcome inside my cousin's body that I was almost certain that by night's end, my cock would have squirted so much cum that some of it would spill into his intestines – eventually overflowing into his stomach. The mere thought of that happening made me cum hard and without warning. The stream that shot out the long sticky strings of warm sperm refreshed the pooling cum from earlier with thicker amounts and for the moment I felt confident that I was on my way to fulfilling that strange thought of flooding him that hard wads of semen continued to shoot out in what seemed to be a never-ending barrage of orgasms. My heart pounded hard as I refused to allow my aching arms to rest or allow my cock to deflate. I continued on with the energy of a super hero – thrusting, pounding, hammering deep and very deep into Dante, gushing load after salty load of sperm, permeating the shit that shared space with my cock and cum.

"Dante!" I gasped. "Keep making Mommy feel good!"

He only replied with grunts.

My Dad watched with that same hypnotic interest watching what he had created out of me by all the years of sex between the two of us.

My sperm never seemed to stop spewing as every little thing about my little lover made me shoot. The sight of his sweaty dark-brown hair, the smoothness of his soft skin of his ass to my groin and his sweet little child voice moaning as if greeting me and welcoming me inside him. All of these things kept me hard and excited as well as energized for I was nowhere close to finishing my quest into Dante's body.

I moaned in ecstacy as my dick dug into him like a plow. The deeper I went the greater the harvest would be. My cock felt at home in his ass and felt like it belonged there – a natural resident of his hole.

I thought my lust would ease up after fucking the kid's ass with everything that I had within me, but it just seemed to grow like a cancer; hammering into my cousin's body – feeding that unquenchable fire. No doubt, by morning my dick would feel raw from sodomizing such a tight hole. That got me again. Another stream of sperm pissed out just thinking of being ragged by morning. It was easy as pie for me to cum at a moment's notice.

I was oblivious to the time frame that all my energy and every thrust of my flesh wasn't doing to Dante what it was doing to me. He had fallen asleep even though my rock solid cock thundered away into him. I could feel anger begin to well up within me as he slept while I was trying to show my way of affection for him, but to ignore it by surrendering to sleep was like a slap to my face. I took it as a sign of disinterest and disrespect for his lover and provider. My anger now fueled my muscles. My thrusting became more violent with my anger and I began to spit, "You little fucking shit! I'll teach you for falling asleep on me!"

"Garrett 3; easy sweetheart. He's brand new at this. Teach him well," my Father's distant voice registered in my brain like a whispering god.

"What?" I said.

"He's just a child. He's not used to getting fucked. You wore him out."

My Father's explanation caused me to stop dead in my tracks and I allowed the first signs of fatigue to take hold of me as I pulled out of him and lay beside Dante's body.

My Dad wheeled himself out of the room as I just laid quietly, staring up at the ceiling – watching the flickers of fire light dance on the walls.

Dad returned a short time later with two plastic bottles of water, one for me and the other for Dante. Dad instructed me to wake my lover so he could drink. Dante sat up and nearly drank the cold liquid in one large gulp. Come to think about it now, it had been hours since I had had water and my throat felt parched from all that heavy breathing.

"I think you should take a break, Garrett," Dad said. "The boy isn't used to fucking hour after hour. In time he'll adjust to long days in bed."

Dad said nothing more and left the room closing the door behind him.

I still wasn't quite finished with Dante. Once well watered, I laid the boy on his back and sat over his face and commanded him to lick my ass. I still think that he never protested because he was too worn out to gripe how terrible it would be to stick his face up my sweaty butt and lick it like a treat. Nevertheless, Dante stuffed his face into me and began to lick my rectum, sending reverberating shivers through me as his warm tongue explored my hungry hole.

While he conducted the rim job, I shut my eyes and I allowed myself to settle gently onto his gorgeous face and relax, dreaming of tomorrow's itinerary. That sweet tongue from Dante's mouth cause me to melt. I even shot a load of cum without jacking-off. Dante was a gift from my Dad to me for my birthday, but what I had not realized was that Dante had a gifted body that I enjoyed fucking.

I thought about my upcoming birthday in two days and how I would enjoy sharing it with my friends. I also thought about having to go to school the next day, not being able to fuck my new lover until I got home. I would most likely be hard all day long in school praying that nobody would notice my 'woody'. Summer vacation was just a week away and by then Dante would be used to love making.

For now, my body was really beginning to ache and finally came to the conclusion that I had no choice but to rest for the night.

I climbed off of Dante's face and laid beside him and took him into my arms and gently stroked his smooth body. I would be fifteen years-old in two days and I had to learn from scratch how to handle this adorable eight year-old and I would need the counsel of my father to make this relationship last a lifetime.

Sleep is a powerful monster that cannot be tamed, and once you fall prey to it you had no choice but to submit to its hungry teeth of slumber and with one final thought, I never knew love could be so sweet.

Part Four

1

Dr. Molinsky: "No Garrett 3; well, to be honest, the things that you describe are overwhelming. Things of a sexual nature, no matter how perverse, can stimulate the human body 3; the senses."

Garrett Miller: "If you want, I can sit here while you go to the restroom and take care of business."

Dr. Molinsky: "No. There won't be any need for that. Garrett, why don't we continue? You mentioned a specific event on your birthday. Lets go onto that."

Garrett Miller: "Oh yes. The party. Well that day started out really great and I was totally excited, not to mention horny as a fuck. Right after I fucked Dante in the study that night, my Dad told me to give the kid a break because Dante's asshole appeared a little too irritated . So for two days I just sucked on his dick and I made him suck on mine. We would kiss a lot and I would lay him between my legs so he could suck on my cock while he napped, just like Dad used to do to me. I guess you could say that for those two long days, Dante started getting used to me.

Finally on my birthday, all of my school friends joined me out near the pool and we had a great time. Dante was there and dressed for the occasion. He wore a dark blue bathing suit and a white polo shirt that had once belonged to me when I was Dante's size. Anyway, it was a hot day and we all wore bathing suits. After all it was a pool party and we played stupid games, now that I think about it. I got a lot of gifts from my friends and we shared a lot of food and cake. The cake was my favorite. It had pineapple filling.

The party wasn't the highlight of the day. Once my friends had all left; my Dad wanted to throw me a private party that he, Dante and I could celebrate.

I think I told you that my Father was an inventive bastard to say the least.

We went to the dining room and Dad ordered Dante and I to strip naked. Dad had gone to the kitchen bringing a slice of the cake we had all eaten earlier and he laid it on the table. Well 3; both of us boys were bare naked and I was almost excited to see what Dad had in mind.

"Garrett, lay Dante on the table 3; flat on his belly," Dad said.

So I did.

My Dad pushed me out of the way with his wheelchair and grabbed Dante by the legs and pulled him part way off the table, so that his groin was near the edge and he could bend slightly. Dad slid a chair between Dante's legs and told me to sit. Dad grabbed one of the table's long dinner candles. That candle must have been at least six inches [15 cm] unused.

"Shove this up his ass with the base of it inside him about an inch [2½ cm]," he said.

So I did.

Dante grunted, nearly crying as the blunt edge of that waxy candle stretched his rectum and slid into place. Dad took the plate of birthday cake and handed it to me.

"Stuff his ass with the cake. Stuff as much as you can around the candle."

Dad removed a book of matches from his pocket and lit the candle. The whole thing was bizarre. Here was my eight year-old lover lying on the dining room table with birthday cake stuffed between his ass cheeks with a lit dinner candle in the middle.

"Happy birthday to you 3;" my Dad sang.

When he was done he told me to make a wish and blow out the candle. I made my wish and blew out the candle. Dad pulled it out of Dante's ass and licked the shit stained end of it like it was frosting or something, then Dad told me to dig in.

While I started eating the cake out of Dante's ass, Dad wheeled out of the room momentarily. Although eating birthday cake out of an eight year-old boy's ass was erotic and quite normal to me, I just enjoyed that sweet treat and thought how this had been the best birthday of my life. Quite frankly, I wished that I had been eating the cake out of Jeremy Walker's ass. He was the cutest fourteen year-old boy I knew 3; with a great cock I might add. After all, Jeremy had spent several Friday night sleep-overs at my house and as always, while he slept, I enjoyed sucking on his plump cock until the cum started flowing. I had such a big crush on him, but he was straight and really liked girls.

Anyway, I had almost finished eating the cake while licking some of the frosting off the sides of his butt cheeks. I had wished it were cum instead of frosting.

When I got the last of the cake, which covered his hole, I licked at it with such a powerful lust that given an hour, his rectum would have been bleeding by the time I finished. I licked at his hole as if the meaning of life were within. Man! The texture to that kid's hole was so tasty and I knew Dante was enjoying himself, because I could hear him murmuring with pleasure. Talk about a very happy birthday! I wanted to shove my head up and beyond his hole and lick every organ inside his body. He was the treat of a life time and just remembering him makes me want to cry. I miss him so much. I didn't want to waste a minute, because my dad was sure to return, so I stuffed my tongue into his rectum tasting the remnants of the cake's frosting and something altogether different. Shit. That's what I was licking. Dante had taken a dump after the pool party ended and had not wiped thoroughly. Now my tongue was wiping what he had missed earlier and although this might appear gross to you, Doc – it had me so fucking horny that I abandoned his hole as a tongue treat and plunged my cock into him.

Now the grunting and the muttered whines came from Dante as I rammed into him – each thrust hammering into that shit-infested hole, slamming harder into him each time. We were fucking in the dining room where many of my Father's friends would unite for meals and talk about Wall Street, politics and ill-fated golf games. If these walls could talk the next time they gathered in this room to feast on this very table, no doubt they would proclaim that Garrett Miller ate birthday cake out of an eight year-old's ass and for good measure, fucked his ass as an after thought. Years after that night of the birthday, I attended some of my Dad's dinner meetings and watched who sat at the place where I had eaten cake out of my lover's ass, where I had fucked him. There were times I wanted to whisper to the unlucky person that where they were eating their dinner, I had been fucking a little boy with my cum dripping down his leg onto the table from his weeping ass.

The cum began to flow as I imagined the look of horror of those I wanted to tell. Faster and faster I rammed my cock, plowing into his tunnel of love and the sweet song of grunts, groans and moans just kept me coming – shooting milky streams of sperm.

Milk with the cake, I thought playfully.

When I finished with Dante's hole and the 'plop' of my cock dislodging from his puckered hole, I could hear my Dad behind me. He had been watching us fuck and I began to feel sorry for him. I know how much he enjoyed making love to me and at times I would cry for him. There were some nights when I would leave Dante to sleep on his own so I could snuggle up to my Dad and give him passionate kisses and let him suck on my cock so he could have the flavor of my cum in his mouth and I would let him eat my ass and taste my rectum and this he would do all night, but for some reason he never touched Dante 3; at least I don't think so. Anyway, just to spend those precious nights with him made my Dad very happy and I made it a practice several times a week. But there were those days when Dad would cry because he couldn't use his cock on me.

Anyway, back to that night in the dining room. Dad said, "I have another present for you and I couldn't let you open it in front of your friends."

I tore the paper away and opened the box. Inside were leather binding straps, several sized butt-plugs, lubricating creams, a large vibrating cock-shaped dildo and two videos of young boys fucking. Kiddie porn was legal back then and you could buy it at any adult book store in the late 60's. It seemed my dad wanted to keep my lust burning bright and hot.

But just as I though my life as being a sexual master was growing, things took an odd turn and all hell broke loose for me. Dad had hooked up with child porn makers and Dad wanted Dante and I to become famous in that circle.

2

The house smelled weird as we were taken into the basement where a studio was built. There were cameras, lights with silver colored umbrellas attached to them, boom microphones hanging over a king sized bed and seven men there to watch and film Dante and I.

"Take off your clothes boys," a man in black shorts ordered. His words and voice were cold and callous.

As Dante and I removed our clothing, I noticed that two of the men were taking their clothing off as well. The special lights went on and we were ordered to lie on the bed. The two men joined us on the bed as well. I wished my dad would've have been down in there with us to supervise, but because he was in a wheelchair he was unable to make it down the stairs.

One of the men on the bed with us looked like he was a twenty year-old and had the longest dick I ever saw. That cock had to be at least eleven to twelve inches [28-30 cm] in length. The other man looked like he was in his forties and was molesting Dante. This film was to be about Dante and I and here this old man was messing with my lover.

"Leave him alone! He's my mate!" I yelled.

But the twenty year-old slapped me on the face and told me to shut up. He flipped me over onto my belly and began to sodomize me without lubrication. Dante began crying as the other man started ass-fucking him. The twenty year-old plunged his cock deep into me, rocking back and forth violently, trying to shove the full length of his dick up my ass. The pain was intense, but all I could think of was Dante. He was my lover and my Dad promised me that he would always be mine, but here we were being raped by two men we didn't know. My father had betrayed us for money I later found out.

The camera man was at my left side filming me and the twenty year-old as his cock kept digging into me, one hard thrust after the other. I screamed in pain as this man's horse sized cock dug deeper. Another man came up to me and inserted a ball-gag on me to muffle my screams. But Dante 3; things had changed for Dante. The men brought in another boy bigger and older than he was. He appeared to be at least nine or ten. That boy – I still remember the men calling him "Mark," climbed into bed with us and positioned himself so his cock would be in Dante's mouth while the forty year-old kept raping him. I cried so much. Not because of the pain I was enduring, but because my lover was being brutalized. I wanted to do something, but 3; but-"

Dr. Molinsky: "Garrett, you need a break? What your describing was a horrible ordeal and it wasn't your fault. Remembering something like this is tough and its alright if you want to stop."

Garrett Miller: "No. I'll be ok. I 3; I 3; MOTHER-FUCKER'S!"

3; 3; 3;

Author's note: The transcript ended abruptly. I can only assume that Garrett got up and left. Sorry, but the transcript that I have does not continue any further. We can only speculate what happened after both boys were raped and what happened to Dante and why they were not together during this psychiatric session. Although there were a lot of erotic moments, I do admit to crying as I read this story, because it hit home and effected me profoundly. I tried doing a search for Garrett Miller through a PI friend of mine and thus far I have been unlucky in finding him.

The End

Part One

From the Journal of, Master William Thorton Carter, II

1

I was alone in the world with both of my parents dead. The only companionship I had was my faithful manservant, Alexander Caims. Mr. Caims was an orphaned child himself learning to survive on the cold, damp streets of London. On those cold nights on the country side of Deblin, Mr. Caims (with the foreknowledge of my sexual eccentricity) would come to my room at night to relieve me of the burden of my burning youth between my legs. It was Caims who gave me the idea where to find young boys to fill my bed.

2

In June of 1911, Mr. Caims and I started Traveling on the Atlantic on such ships as the Mauretania, the Lusitania, the Adriatic and the grand Olympic – always traveling first class; enjoying dinner at the Captan's table every evening. It was during the day that Mr. Caims would go searching the decks for young boys to bring back to my quarters where I would release my lust upon them. I would have anywhere from 2-8 boys during the voyage going and less when we returned to England. Mr. Caims always lured the young boys from steerage as some of them could hardly speak english. When I was finished with their bodies they would not speak a word of what had been done to them. If they did, their word would be discounted. Although 15 years-old, I was still a wealthy boy to be reckoned with. Any trouble or scandalous rumors started against me never went beyond my parlor. I was a gentleman – an English Nobleman that could seriously injure the reputation of the Cunard and White Star lines. So finding prey to feed my lust was easy.

In the Spring of 1912 I had been ready to undertake another voyage on the only ship that was available for passage to New York, the Adriatic. A coal strike had crippled the shipping industry that year leaving me no options but to venture out to sea on the same ship as last time. Nearly, at the last moment, Caims had recieved a dispatch that the sailing of the Adriatic had been cancelled and my fare upon that ship was to be transfered to the newly Titanic. "Yes," I said. "Titanic would be splendid."

Caims made the arrangements and in a day we found ourselves on a first class boat train to Southhampton, England where Caims and I would lodge over night in the lavish South Western House.

3

By twelve noon Titanic was launched. Mr. Caims and I settled in while our cabin stewards upacked my clothing as I enjoyed a cup of Earl Grey. The smell of the sea brought back vivid memories of the past voyages I had taken, remembing the young children that were brought to me for my pleasure. The first day of each voyage was always a difficult time for Caims, as all steerage passengers got settled into their meager cabins. The second day of the trip was the time that Caims would set in search of prey. The good fellow was always lucky and never walked away empty handed.

That evening I dined at Captain Smith's table enjoying the company of various extraordinares such as Mr. Bruce Ismay, Thomas Andrews, Mr. and Mrs. Isadore Strauss as well as the richest of them all, Mr. and Mrs. J. J. Astor.

I must say the dinner was splendid. The wine we drank only complimeted the meal. However, the conversation was a bit drab until Captain smith and Mr. Ismay changed the topic to Titanic and her conception.

Late that night before bed, my groin became inflammed once again with unrestrainable lust that Mr. Caims spent an hour in my room sucking on my cock with his full lips milking the shaft of my penis until ounces of my seed complimented the meal he had eaten earlier. As reward for a job well done as my faithful servant, I always returned the pleasure he bestowed upon me. But I never allowed him to have intercourse with me as my appetite lie elsewhere.

4

The door parted and into the bedroom entered Mr. Caims and a young naked 9 year-old boy, "Sir, may I introduce to you, Master Frank Goldsmith from the third class?"

"Yes, Mr. Caims. Bring him forward," I said. I inspected the boy and found him quite attractive. He had brown hair and brown eyes, a slender nose dappled with a spray of freckles. His cock, I noticed, was uncircumsized; which did not matter to me. Mr Caims knodded to me which was a signal that the boy knew what I wanted from him and that he granted his cooperation and silence for $25 in return. I slipped my robe off revealing my own naked body which the young Mr. Goldsmith gazed at. Most of the boys I would bed with were always fascinated by my body. Not because I was different from them in any way, but because they saw a naked first class millionaire. "Thank you, Mr. Caims. That will be all."

Caims turned away and left us to the much anticipated pleasure that awaited me.

"Come, Boy," I said. "Have no fear." Frank Goldsmith came to me on command and I urged him to sit. I engaged him in short conversation asking about his family and I promised him $25 a day if he came to me through Mr. Caims.

"Franky," he said. "My mummy calls me Franky."

"Very well, Franky. Let us proceed." I took hold of the freshly sanitized boy and laid him ontop of the covers of my bed. I binded his hands as to insure that the lad would not try to escape before I had a chance with him. The boy was marvelously courageous and a good sport knowing what I had in store for him. "Spread your legs, Lad." I said. "Good form."

Little Franky Goldsmith was ready as was I. His skin was incredibly soft. His bum was the color of milk. I parted his cheeks to reveal the pink puckered hole that I so indubiably enjoyed licking when my bed was occupied. I planted my face inside him licking and lapping and at the tenderness of his bottom, enjoying the texture of my young ward. Every lick was a pleasurable voyage that exceeded Titanic's luxury. Franky groaned with each lick – moaned as I stuffed my tongue into his tight hole that had served him for other purposes. Franky relaxed as I lapped at his innocent bottom.

After quite some time of licking my desires shifted to violating the hole I licked. I reached for the slippery salve that Caims had always provided me with and I applied its coolness to Franky's pink hole. I pierced through with my finger applying generously at his rectum to assure that the penetration would be easy. I stuffed a rubber ball in the boy's mouth and instructed him to bite down on it and to remain quiet. I mounted the young boy parting his bum with the head of my circumsized penis finding the oily slick that marked the entrance to Franky's hole. Beyond the confines of his muscular hole was a moist warm, darkness that would carry my seed back to steerage upon completion. I pushed my penis into him producing muffled grunts from Franky's mouth as half my cock slid in. By this point my hardened flesh was ablaze with a bitter heat. I began to rock in and out – thrusting gently at first then intensifying my speed until my lungs labored under the strain of my lust and my muscles were taught as ropes. I pushed and pounded while Franky grunted beneath me. All this time, he never once cried or pleaded for mercy. Perhaps being poor and knowing that the money I would give him was the inspiration for remaining loyal to my lust. The sweat which beaded around the crown of my head began to drip onto Franky's back with each push of my groin into him.

"Oh my boy," I panted. "Your Da will be so pleased at how hard you are working."

I hammered with intensity easing off a bit to prevent ejactulating too early. I wanted to savour the feel of this boys tight hole – I wanted to enjoy the warmness and moisture that the inside of his body could produce on my cock. I rammed and drilled moaning and panting enveloped by a surge of my passion which fueled my desire and burned with undeniable fury. My lower back arched – my arms and legs tightened as I could feel the tiny streams of my warm sticky seed begin to flood young Franky Goldsmith's bottom.

I kept thrusting until my own cock had nothing more to give – then rested atop of the boy to regather my wits.

The boy provided for my manhood splendidly and allowed me to have the remainder of my day in silence.

Part Two

1

As the day began fading, I had been enthralled by my young lover that I did not want to go to bed alone this night and I most certainly did not want the company of Caims, rather I wanted young Franky to bed with me – to lend his warmth to my body as Titanic sailed through bitter, arctic breezes.

"Would you sleep with me tonight Franky?" I said.

"I do not know if my Da will allow me," he replied.

Of course my mind was fevered by lust, but I wanted this child with me for the night. I summoned for Caims and he entered the room to find Franky between my legs – his warm lips wrapped around my cock.

"You called Sir?"Caims said.

"Mr. Caims I have a job for you," I said. "If you could be so kind as to go to Franky's quarters and offer the parents one hundred dollars in American currency if they would allow me the pleasure of sleeping with their son. If they refuse 3; double the offer. Triple it if you have to, but get them to consent!"

"Certainly Sir," Caims said.

Caims left us to the pleasures of the waning day and I turned my young boy around onto his back and planted my lips to his. Franky enjoyed kissing and I found pleasure inside his mouth as my tongue explored the confines of it. As our mouths worked, I inserted my finger into his raw hole and rammed it in and out, making the boy grunt with every push. I felt such power as rich as I was, making the boy do as I wanted – whatever my perverse heart desired.

Franky's lips were soft to the touch as was the remainder of his body and I could not resist working my lips down to his neck where I left bruises from the bites, then I ventured lower greeting the young lad's belly with a kiss of adoration, continuing onto the boy's flesh. I engulfed his penis in a single gulp and worked my tongue around it until it began to harden. Franky moaned to the massage of his cock. I ate at him hungrily and the faster I milked his hairless sex, the louder he panted and moaned, grunting as my mouth took in his little scrotums. I shoved my finger deeper into his ass causing the boy to groan and grunt. To be assaulted by a wicked mouth and a probing finger was extraordinary for Franky. I am quite certain that his father or mother did not lay with the boy at home, committing incest on this tender child.

Franky began to tense, moan then cry in pleasure when I began to feel his penis pulsate on my tongue, throbbing and wanting to squirt, but at the age of nine, Franky could not produce that salty brew. I swallowed his cock and balls faster and faster as the boy's orgasm attacked his body with electrical spasms, reverberating through his small form.

"Oh! Oh! Please Sir!" Franky cried.

I didn't stop. I kept eating his cock making him cry out in erotic pleasure as one climax after the other assaulted the boy.

When I finished, Mr. Caims had come to me with fabulous news from steerage. He had informed me that Frank Goldsmith, Sr. had agreed to the sum of money that I had offered. But my dear Mr. Caims always wanted to add to my comfort by making a far greater deal. Caims enlightened me to the fact that he had managed to get Franky's parents to consent to allowing me to have their child for the duration of our voyage on Titanic. Caims had paid a total of one-hundred dollars. Most poor immigrants that travel to America searching for a new life, arrive extremely destitute as a result of paying for their passage on steamers. One-hundred dollars would insure that the Goldsmith family would adjust nicely in the land of the free.

2

April 14, 1912 7:40 PM

3

April 14, 1912 9:50 PM

What I was about to do was a challenge.

I made Franky lean on the rail facing out to sea. His body shivered with the cold, accosting his nude body as I settled upon my knees and shoved my face up the boy's ass. I licked him hard, stuffing and digging into Franky's hole with my tongue. The softness of his rectum to my mouth satisfied the lust, but the hunger to eat him in this fashion seemed to grow profusely. My probing tongue worked its way as far as I could get it into him, but those strong rectal muscles resisted my moist mouth. I licked Franky for an hour until I had had enough then I changed position.

People on the boat deck were going to hear me fuck this boy as I inserted my fat cock into Franky. Then I began thrusting and I pounded hard enough to cause my young boy to scream out in pain, gasping loud as I rammed hard. The heat that the brandy had produced in me had been replaced by the heat of lust. The pain my cock was imposing on Franky's ass was now being heard by passing passengers. On the churning waters of the sea, I could see the dark silhouettes of people as light from the boat deck reflected on the water. With every thrust of my horny cock and every erotic scream from Franky's mouth, people gathered over head to listen as my raping dick plunged into this nine year-old boy's ass. I was amused that all these listening passengers were getting stimulated as both Franky and I moaned and panted as I continued fucking him non-stop, driving my flesh deep into the warmth of his bottom. The arctic night was no longer affecting Franky. His body, with the brutal fucking he was receiving was generating heat of his own. The voices of the passengers from above, I was certain were young teens, were yelling down to us to fuck harder. Franky's gentle voice sounded much like a girl's and so by request, I rammed harder with each thrust and the boy bellowed.

Stream after stream of sperm spilled into my little whore's body, flooding his bowels. Some of the fluid from his ass spilled onto the fine mahogany deck in tiny pools. At the sight of my semen, my balls were inspired once more and another fierce volley of sperm shot forth. Streams of cum seemed to piss into him the harder I rammed.

With the last of my spunk squirting into Franky and the hecklers from above encouraging us to continue, I began to urinate into the boy as I held onto his cold, sweating body. The deck was now being showered with piss as well as my seed. As my hot piss flooded his rectum, Franky was grunting mildly. With the flow of urine still flowing inside him, I fondled his cock until it grew in my hand.

That's when the deck beneath us shuddered. A fine crunching sound, much like the tinkling of china, sounded from Titanic's bow. Franky and I were still facing out to sea when we saw this massive iceberg float dangerously close. So close that we could have reached out and grabbed the thing.

"Oh my!" I said startled.

I pulled my cock out of Franky's hole and led him back to the warmth of the room. Urine and shit suddenly shot out of his ass and stained the carpeting.

4

April 14, 1912 11:55 PM

"Sir," Caims began, "the ships crew is ordering all passengers to get their life preservers and go to the boat deck."

"Why?" I said. "I thought this was the 'Unsinkable Ship?'"

"Sir, I'm sure it is just a precaution," Caims said confidently.

Although Franky and I had seen the massive iceberg, I wasn't convinced that there was a legitimate problem or danger. Mr. Caims, Franky and I joined other passengers on the boat deck as ordered. While we stood like idling fools freezing in the cold air of the night, I began to think of kidnaping the boy upon arrival in New York. Mr. Caims could tie the boy and smuggle him off the ship in my steamer trunk, board another ship and return to England with a new lover.

5

April 15, 1912 1:20

"Sir, please take the boy and get into a life boat!" Caims ordered.

That had been the first time my manservant had ever risen his voice to me, the first time he ever ordered me to do anything. He led Franky and I to lifeboat number six and insured that the both of us were in it when the ship's crew began to lower us to sea below. I assumed that once women and children were tended to, Caims would embark on another boat.

Crewmen aboard our lifeboat began rowing far from Titanic's crippled hull. The further out we got, the more clearly we could see the stern rising up out of the water and into the air, the massive triple screws exposed.

It was now apparent that Titanic was a loss. There was no return to the ship for any of us. I hoped that Mr. Caims made it off Titanic alive, but only time would tell. I didn't care much for the passengers, as I didn't really know any of them, so I took Franky into my arms. I took off my long trench coat and covered him with it to hide what my hands were doing. Franky and I sat at the stern of the lifeboat. The survivors watched Titanic founder as I unbuckled Franky's belt, unzipping his pants – pulling them down. I undid the back end of his long-johns to expose his butt. Then I undid my own pants and pulled my hardening penis out stuffing Franky's ass, penetrating his hole. He grunted slightly as I entered him. I kept my eyes on the passengers of our little boat to make sure nobody was watching me fuck this kid during this horrific event. I was somewhat of a daredevil at this point. I slipped my hand between his legs and began stroking his little cock to life. I pushed my groin into him in modest upward thrusts, careful not to get carried away.

In the distance, Titanic's stern rose higher and higher and the screams of people still aboard the ship haunted the night. I pumped my cock mildly into my lover's hole and my penis seemed to swell harder as the stench of death mixed with the lust occurring in this lifeboat causing me to spew streamlets of warm, sticky cream. I came close to crying out in ecstacy as more steady streams continued to flow. Franky was superbly cooperative in this moment in time as he allowed me to fuck him in the midst of these survivors.

Titanic's lights flickered. The desperate cries of humanity aboard the mortal ship grew more frantic when the ship finally blacked out. I was grateful for the sudden darkness, because I kept my cock hard and buried up Franky's ass. It would be even more hard for my fellow survivors to see my gyrating pelvis, thrusting into this young boy who was sitting on my lap. Whatever rescuing ship aided us, I knew that I had to lay low – avoiding Franky's family if they survived the sinking of Titanic.

My cock sizzled and burned while I kept thrusting. I could thrust more wildly as the darkness of the spring night and the trench coat concealed the rape that was happening. Women sitting around us were crying as they thought of their loved ones still stranded on the ship.

My concentration was finally broken when a thunderous explosion rocked the night. Titanic was in the process of breaking in two. I watched as a flash of light lit the night as flames from the ship's boilers exploded like a rocket. I began to ram my cock hard into Franky as I watched death occur. This was the most erotic moment I was experiencing. Pushing and digging into my child-lover, I began to cum as the ship's stern began to go under. The soothing warmth of my fluid began to pool around the base of my cock. I was oblivious to the fact that I was grunting mildly as the power of my orgasm surged through me like a raging flood; globs of hot semen coating Franky's anal canal. In my hand, his smooth, hairless cock began to throb and writhe as the boy experienced a massive orgasm of his own, causing him to gasp and pant loud. Fortunately, the dying passengers that were either in the water turning to ice cubes or getting ready to follow the ship under were screaming so loud that their pleas for help muffled the erotic sounds coming from the boy.

More sperm oozed into my lover when the last of the ship disappeared under the water. I grasped Franky tight as my groin kissed his ass as the last of my spunk filled him.

6

7

I was awakened by the roar of another ship and the morning sun glaring in my eyes.

The Carpathia.

Our rescue had arrived and the crewmen rowed the lifeboat to the port side of the ship where we were taken onboard. The survivors were separated by class and because Franky was with me, he joined me in the first-class gathering area. I was determined to return to England with this boy in hand, stealing him from his family that he may fill my bed for years to come.

As we steamed toward New York, we searched for Mr. Caims. I had inquired from the Carpathia's crew as to whether or not my servant had survived, but the inventory of survivors had produced no results. It was clear that Mr. Caims had been claimed by the sea. I cried for my servant and realized that if I couldn't get Franky out of America as I arrived, then I would truly be alone in the world.

8

When finally docked, first-class had been first to disembark and so I quickly left the ship, surrounded by a mob of people on the dock, most of them were reporters. One unruly man from the Wall Street Journal begged me for an interview, but I told him to fuck-off. I had to get out of the area and fast. I went to the Cunard's passenger terminal and inquired of the next ship leaving for Liverpool, but to my dismay it would be two days before the sailing back to England. So I purchased passage for two in first-class on the next ship, gathered our tickets and hailed a carriage. I was taken to the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel where I acquired a room for the two of us for the next two days.

In that space of time I continued to molest and rape Franky doing as I pleased and filling his ass and belly with sperm.

When the time came for the sailing back to England, I checked out of the hotel and got to the shipyard where we boarded our return ship.

When the ship set sail to the east, then and only then did I know that I had gotten away with my new lover. Franky would grow up wealthy and be my bed mate. Before leaving New York, I purchased fine clothing for my child-lover so that we could dine together in first class. I wanted him to look like he was part of a regal and luxurious home, wearing fine suits at breakfast and lunch and tuxedos at dinner.

9

(Back in the hospital in London)
Present Day

The End

#3
The Dark Place

My Dear Friends,

I promised this story to you awhile back, but due to some difficulties, I could not deliver. So I offer my sincere apologies and present to you another tale from my twisted, dark and perverted imagination and I hope that you have a good time with this as I had writing it. Sadly, I must slow down and reduce my writing a bit as my personal life if filled with its own adventures.

So please, sit down (make sure the wife or husband is out of the room) and have a good time and when you are done, drop me an Email and let me know how I did on this one! This will be my final story of the 20th Century, but wait until 2001, I'll be back; until then, I wish you a very happy, new millennium! See ya all around!!!

With love for you all 3; well, not all, but most,

1

2

For Freddy, it was the right time for his escapades with me.

The first time he touched me didn't bother me. He would stuff his wicked hand in my pants and get a cheap feel until he had me hard, but once in awhile, when playing around my house, Freddy would sneak up and whisper for me to come and I would obey. He would take me beyond the fence that separated the backyard from the rail line. It was very isolated where he would conceal us, undoing the tarnished belt buckle and ease my pants down along with my underwear. I remember Freddy shuddering like someone had tossed him into a frigid lake and now stood upon his knees looking at my uncut cock like a dog to a bone. I can still see him licking his lips and his eyes fixed upon me so desperately that if he stared any longer, he was apt to hypnotize himself.

Then he would reach out and stroked my dick back and forth, gently tracing circles up and over my shaft that slowly grew.

For the first time, at the tender age of six, I was allowing this teenage boy to fondle my sex without shame. I do admit that it wasn't entirely a bad experience-even when he started sucking me-it felt so wonderful having his smooth lips gently gliding in and out of his mouth.

It started off like that, but when sucking wasn't good enough for Freddy, on the subsequent visits, Freddy would pull his cock out and make me touch him, then he would stick it in my mouth and he would threaten me with a black eye if I didn't pleasure him. He had done that to me for several days straight, thus turning a pleasant experience into a mixed bag of regrets.

Aunt Mabel died on a Tuesday, which gave Freddy his shot with me. My mom, desperate to find a babysitter, had begged Freddy to watch me for four days while she flew to San Francisco for the funeral. Mom was quite poor, as was most of our family, but my other cousins got to go. I stayed home to face my fate; molded into a creature that the world could have done without.

With a deceptive smile, Freddy waved goodbye to my mom, but I had nothing but trepidation as I knew Freddy would pull his cock out and I would end up with his come greeting my last meal .

Needless to say, once that cab rounded the corner of our San Diego home, Freddy dragged me into mom's room and had me undress. He took Polaroids of me in different stages of undress, but once I was nude, he had me on the bed, face down, then he climbed over me and mounted my ass like a light bulb to a socket. I can't begin to tell you how the burning of my ass had caused me to scream as if the friction of that massive cock was acidic. I cried most of that day as the minutes and hours ticked by slowly. Freddy couldn't get enough of my rectum and he couldn't shoot enough of himself into me. Come to think of it, I don't remember eating a single meal that day. Freddy just kept riding me-huffing and puffing, sweating and groaning-saying weird shit that I still can't remember to this day. All I know was that his groin slapped hard against my bottom for those four days and believe it or not, I allowed him to fuck me without saying a single word.

This is the first time I speak of what Freddy did. Even when mom got back, she never had a clue of what he had done and the fun he had on her bed and in those sheets. If those walls could only talk, I wouldn't be here telling you my tale. The abuse would have ended, but those lonely walls were as mute as my own tongue.

Each time I saw him, he would take me to a quiet spot and do me without concern. After awhile, I adjusted to the penetration and the first time he made me lick his ass, I grew used to that as well. Every threat of physical harm had tamed me into silence and when I saw him, I quickly undid my belt and let my pants fall.

In the summer of eighty-nine, mom had been convinced by her sister Rachel to move to the desert town of Brawley, California. Freddy had fucked me one last time the day before we moved and he had left a substantial amount of sperm in my belly and up my ass that I remember vomiting several times that night. Even then, mom never knew that what was coming out was my molester's come.

Although in that dusty town, where truckers and travelers refueled and lodged, I was allowed to grow into a teen as old as Freddy without ever being touched again by another pedophile. Everything was peaceful for me, but the year I hit puberty, my hormones went wild.

At first, I jerked off to images of the girls that I saw daily at school, but slowly I was beginning to think back to Freddy and what he had done to me; coming on my sheets, in my underwear as I got off on the past, but then those images started to morph into new ones. As the days would fly by, I started watching the kids on my block. Half of them were Mexicans and the others were white. I would watch the boys and girls of San Mateo Road play without knowing they were being watched by hungry eyes. I would imagine those dicks swishing around in their pants as their thighs rubbed against them. I would often wonder what they had under those clothes; then one day when I was extremely horny, I found out.

I inched along a drainage ditch until I approached where four year-old Martin Espinoza played alone. His parents were pigs. They didn't give a rats ass where there child was or what he was doing. Martin's lack of parental supervision changed my life that day as I lured the boy behind a small grove of date-laden palm trees-pulling his pants down-dry humping him, leaving several squirts of myself between his ass-cheeks, then I blindfolded the boy with his own, dirty shirt; then entered his mouth and rocked back and forth until the creamy globs of come decorated his mouth. His lips were soft I recall. He never cried nor tried to reject my sexual desires. He laid there submitting to my pelvic thrusts and in that hour of boy fucking, I had come numerous times with some of my come in his mouth and the other spurts staining his shirt.

When I finished with little Martin, he had my spunk all over the front of him with some of the sperm dripping down his cheeks. I stopped when I heard Martin's mother calling him. I was one gregarious son of bitch. I left my come on his cheeks, lips and shirt uncaring if his mother saw it or not. When I got him back into his pants, I told him to go home and I saw him enter their filthy home with Mrs. Espinoza not noticing a thing. It was funny to me to say the least.

I grew bold after that and I started preying upon the young boys of San Mateo Road. Don't get me wrong, I tried a pussy once. Sheila Morgan, a seven year-old retarded girl had put out for me nicely.

"I'm Sheila Morgan, if found call 577-2127," said her silver bracelet. I found her on the front lawn of her home-lured her onto my metallic-green Schwinn-and drove off toward my part of town a mile away. I didn't call the number on the bracelet, instead I took her into a dried up canal near the highway and pulled her panties down.

Her pussy was soft and pink and it seemed to invite me. I licked that tight slit, finger fucking her ass as I did and once her cunny was moist, I climbed on her and inserted my cock and fucked her for several hours. Had she been old enough, no doubt that in nine months, she would be giving birth to my unwanted child. The tight feel of that pussy biting down on my cock convinced me that it was time to start penetrating assholes, rather than to dry hump them. Taking my own suggestion to heart, I turned Sheila onto her belly and filled her ass. She screamed much the way I did when Freddy sodomized me, but no one heard her cries. The roar of passing semi trucks and cars had choked her wails.

Seven hours later, with the sun setting to the west, I knew I had to get us out of there as the rattle snakes and other nocturnal creatures would be looking for prey. I didn't want to run into coyotes or the snakes in the dark.

So I led my unwilling lover back to the world and abandoned Sheila in a dusty alley several blocks over. The weird part was that as I dumped her, some guy had found her and had been caught by the police fucking her several days later. She had spent three days with her legs spread, taking in the man's come without a break. He had found an easy score and couldn't help himself. According to the newspaper article, Joseph Watt, twenty-nine, had fallen under suspicion when a neighbor had heard a little girl crying on the final day of her captivity and had alerted the police. He had been caught in the process of thrusting into her cunny when the cops entered the room. With all of his come filling her and that massive cock pumping deep, he had managed to mix his own sperm with mine and never once was I or anyone else suspected. DNA tests only showed one person's sperm and he had taken the rap for my own sin. I didn't feel bad at all. After all, he was more guilty than me for her rape. I just got very lucky. Sheila couldn't really talk, so she never told anyone that she had been fucked first by a teen boy in the canal. They laid the blame at the feet of Mr. Joseph Watt.

I continued molesting the kids of Brawley for years, being discreet in the way I did it. I went through many boys and girls, but it wasn't until the year two thousand that my second cousin Brice and his mother moved to the neighboring city of El Centro.

I was nineteen when I met Brice for the first time in October, a few days before Halloween.

Brice was a cute eleven year-old boy. Out of all the young boys I had fucked, Brice was a young god. Every little move he made was a subtle call for me to make myself known. He had blonde hair, gas-flame, blue eyes, a light splash of freckles across his nose and thighs that were slightly tanned and perfectly soft.

For days, after meeting him, I jerked-off hard, leaving my seed to congeal on the sheets. Even in my sleep, I could see Brice nude, with his legs spread; his smile intoxicating enough to infect my senses with a strong need for his body.

That October, I was a college student at El Centro's Community College where I spent mind-numbing hours learning that I was paying tuition for an education that would never serve me in the slightest. I couldn't concentrate at all during my studies as I pondered on the dreams that I had been having of Brice, that my notes from the classes had his name written over every inch of my notebook as if I had been in an altered state and had written his name like a psychic in an automatic writing session:

BRICE BRICE BRICE
BRICEBRICEBRICE
BRICEBRICEBRICE
BRICEBRICEBRICE
BRICEBRICEBRICE
BRICEBRICEBRICE

My obsession grew most of that day that I cut away from the final few classes I had left. I sat at the lunch table and thought for several hours of what his body would feel like, pressed against my own, as I ran my hand ever so delicately against his back. The image that stuck in my mind fueled my brain to see me doing that very act without care. But I knew that if I tried that for real, Brice would squeal like a stuck pig.

There had to be a way to get at him without leaving my calling card.

On Sunday, just two days before Halloween, Brice's mother had been at my home, drinking coffee with mine, chatting up a storm when she had said something that had caught my interest. I was constructing a turkey sandwich when she mentioned that Brice and the neighbor boy were going trick or treating alone. El Centro was a small desert city, but larger than Brawley. It was not like the great metropolitan areas of Los Angeles or San Diego where there were predators lurking behind every bush; El Centro was a relatively quiet community.

Brice's mother had sent my mind into a thinking frenzy. I could see him dressed in some Pokemon or Rug Rats costume, carrying a pumpkin-shaped plastic pail, going door to door chanting the same bullshit just to be tossed a few pieces of candy; just to throw it all up later that night.

Halloween was perfect.

I was so worked up over the many ideas that I was unable to eat my sandwich. I went to my room and sat on the bed and began to think it through.

2

The old house had been abandoned for a year after the Imperial County Sheriff's Office had seized it, busting its owners for running a meth lab. I parked a block down, leaving my wheels at the Seven-Eleven. I entered the property from the rear and began taking stock of what was at hand.

The rear yard was littered with drying dog shit, scraps of paper, old beer bottles and a few old tires. Every window-front and back-had been boarded up, but when I kicked in the back door, the smell of mold, old cigarette smoke and the lingering scent of Acetone greeted my nostrils.

A lone cricket and cobwebs adorned the tobacco stained walls as I ventured through the house. The hardwood floors creaked under foot as I entered the rear bedroom and saw that it was litter free. It was perfect. The plywood on the windows would stifle any sounds made in this room, but the three small holes bored into them would allow light to escape, letting the neighbors know that someone was home, but I would remedy that problem easy.

3

I had written a list of the things that I would need and emptied my savings account; then went to Walmart on a shopping spree.

I was in such turmoil and my belly quivered in fear and anticipation as I walked down the isles of the store. I purchased two king size pillows, two sleeping bags, a Coleman lantern/stove with numerous propane tanks, an Igloo cooler, duct tape, a coil of rope, a jar of Vaseline, unscented baby wipes, trash bags and a can of black spray paint. Before leaving, I went to the isle that held all the various Halloween costumes and found the ever popular, devilish character of Darth Maul from the movie Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, complete with color cap and face paints, hood and robe. It seemed to convey my dark intentions perfectly.

I stopped off at Safeway and purchased a small quantity of canned food, ice and a selection of cold cuts along with a loaf of bread and filled the Igloo full. I must admit that I had fun, knowing that Walmart and Safeway were accomplices to a dark plan that seemed to be born from within the dark place of my mind. It seemed my mind was dreaming hard of the coming pleasure for my dick pressed painfully hard against my jeans as I drove toward my palace of perversion. In less than twenty-four hours, if I was as lucky as I have been with the other boys and girls, I would have my cousin under me and I would be drilling him.

4

I spent a good fifteen minutes breathing in the fine mist of the black spray paint as I colored the panes on the dirty windows. It would drown the lantern light as I settled in once the day was spent.

Even as the sun went down that October evening, just before Halloween, I sat on the back porch and huffed in a much needed Camel cigarette. I watched as the tendrils of blue smoke rose and faded into the windy evening, then my heart sank as I saw a brilliant flash of lightning kiss the sky with loud a detonation over the eastern horizon. I nearly went insane as I was pelted by fat drops of rain. If this pre-winter storm lasted all the way through tomorrow, my plans would be a total wash. Brice could end up spending Halloween night house bound and I would be picking up the tab on a plan gone sour.

I spent most of that miserable, weeping night listening to the rain beat a tune on the roof as I jerked-off to the memory of Brice's perfect face. I had saturated my belly with globs of come and every so often I scooped up a bit of it and laid the salty fluid on my tongue and dreamed of Brice. I spent every waking moment thinking of how I would abduct my young cousin from off the street. I thought of the route I would take from El Centro back to Brawley and how I would get the kid from the van to the house without being spotted. If the rain cooperated and fucked off, I could make it all happen.

I fell asleep that night with the sound of the rain and thunder filling my brain with sneering, mocking rhythm as I dreamed of Brice and the flavor of his youth, making my mouth water and my heart grateful for simple pleasures.

5

I stayed out of sight until the sun started setting; then I drove to El Centro where I parked several houses down from Brice's home.

I must admit that the butterflies in my belly were fighting a dog fight. They were as brutal as hornets, stinging me so painfully that I found it nearly impossible to sit still in my seat as I watched the house. I was also paranoid, reasoning with myself that Brice and his mother had left already.

As the remainder of the sun set, I could see a light burning in the front window of the house and just as I was ready to concede that I was fucked and shit out of luck; but then I saw the front door open and Brice and his mother stepping out. His mother bent forward and planted a kiss on his cheek and he started off by himself. When she went back into her house, I started the van and began stalking my cousin.

I slowly followed him and when I saw that he was nearing the mouth of the alley just before the shopping plaza off Imperial Avenue, I drove ahead to meet him.

Before leaving Brawley, I had dressed in my costume ready for the hunt. I was now running on adrenaline when I parked in the gloom of the alley. I placed the black hood over my painted face and got out and waited for him to near me.

Every step he made seemed like every foot would need years to traverse the forty or so feet [12 m] until he was in my arms and I was whisking him away.

When he finally approached me, I pounced on him so fast that he didn't have a chance to react. I grabbed the boy, covering his mouth with my gloved hand and dragged him toward my awaiting van.

Once inside my van, I pinned Brice to the floor and began tying his limbs with long strands of the duct tape and gagged him. He was perfectly secure. The hard part was over. Now to get him to the house of desire. It would be a challenge, but I was committed.

I drove away as easy as pie. My heart had hammered furiously as I drove my cousin 3; my victim to our destiny.

Part 2

1

When I laid him down on the bed of double sleeping bags, Brice scurried away in fear as I lit the Coleman lantern. Tears ran down the course of his cheeks and fear was written upon his face as I placed a lone finger to my black-painted lips and whispered a soothing hush. I spoke to him in a cool, collected voice like a father silencing the sobs of a frightened child.

A cold, strong wind blew in from the wasteland of the Imperial Valley, making the old house to shudder slightly as Brice tried to fend me off. I pulled his shoes off and tore at his costume while he tried to strike my fierce erection. It seemed that the more he struggled, the more he fed my lust. There was something about his quiet sobs and his fighting arms that sent a thrill through me. I could almost hear his muffled, raspy voice as I would enter his body and ram with impunity until I had expelled the fluid of my loins.

When I finally had my catch nude, Brice struck my harden cock with a good smack making turn all shades of red. Although in agony, I eased back out of the line of fire and cradled my dick and balls until the sting subsided. This boy had gone beyond my limit and in anger, I slapped the fettered boy across the face as hard as I could.

It truly is a wonder what emotions and degrees of anger a man's balls dictate. A penis adorned with scrotums is an entity with its own mind. When you come into eye shot of a cute boy or a pretty girl, that one-eyed companion arises to the occasion. Even in your sleep, men and boys awaken to find 'him' wide awake and at attention. That friend can compel the most gentle of the male species to rape and murder and when it's over, you feel the pangs of sorrow for what befell you while 'the friend' took over.

Nevertheless, Brice tried to crawl away, but I held him in place as I carefully and painfully undressed.

He watched as my Darth Maul costume (minus the mask) pulled away; his eyes fixating upon me with fear mingled with quiet submission as his gaze drifted from my red and black painted face to my half-erect penis. Those perfect, sky-blue orbs spoke so many things. I could see the questions they asked and I could also see the contempt they displayed.

"You'll do what I want. I think you know what this," I said to him, my mouth brushing against his ear, speaking in muffled tones that I was positive he had no idea I was his cousin Shannon, "The minute you give me a hard time, I take my knife and I'll start cutting off your fingers. Got that?"

Brice nodded.

I laid him flat on his back and took in the smell of his fear. His skin was as soft as I had dreamed and the feel of it was as soft as a rose petal. I stroked his cheek, running my finger up and over his nose and down to his chest, feeling the mild imperfections of his nipples; then continuing past his belly button and onto his cock. Brice jerked when my hand squeezed his prick and balls. It was nicely trimmed and had a well shaped mushroom head and his balls were generously plump. I couldn't have asked for a better boy to have my way with. I would have bet that had Brice had an older brother or a sister, no doubt they would have indulged themselves. Brice was well endowed with a tool to fuck with. I almost believed that some dishonest angel in Heaven had crafted this cock for the very reason of having it consumed by any pedophile bold enough to venture between this kid's legs. Thankfully, I was the one.

His thighs, legs and feet were also a spectacle. They were soft and well tanned and his toes were slender and the souls of his feet were enticing, so I started there. I ran my tongue from heel to toe; tasting his perspiration and the grooves of his prints. Brice shifted uncomfortably as the warm, sticky saliva coated him. I also thought he was trying to fight off a desperate laughing fit that was building.

I licked and milked each toe with adoration-stroking his ankle as I proceeded; then my watering mouth moved up to the ankle I cradled and I started applying kisses.

I parted his legs and splayed them as wide as I could get them and continued my trek of kisses until I arrived at his pale, untanned thigh. I kissed, licked and sucked hungrily, making my young cousin to groan miserably under his gag. As I sucked, I was leaving love bites in the process. It would be a temporary mark of my lust that would remind me hour after hour that I had scored successfully.

As I reached the joint that separates the thigh from the groin, I saw those bulbous scrotums hanging there like a talisman-enigmatically calling to me with an ethereal cry-compelling me to move on to better things.

I reached into my pocket and recovered a rubber band and carefully applied the band around Brice's nuts, causing them to bulge larger than they were.

Brice jerked and cried out under his muzzle as the sensitivity of his balls were tested under the tension of the band. His scrotums and cock were a sight to behold that night. "You be a good cockling and I'll make you have an orgasm to die for. Just don't move – I'd hate to bite off your dick!" I chuckled.

I licked them gingerly, making them roll in their sack with each hearty lick. He squirmed and mewled and I could tell by the sweat on his face that he was worried about losing his life-long friend. His skin was softer than the rest of his body; more silky than a rose.

I looked up and glared at his eyes that were watching me, pleading with me not to hurt and chomp-then opened my mouth wide and inserted my cousin's balls. Brice started screaming as my teeth and lips applied the pressure. I tried milking his sack as gently as possible without crushing his testicles; letting my tongue explore Brice in new ways-feeling the little ridges and tasting the very flesh that would impart pleasure.

I found that I could not contain my interest to just his nuts; I exchanged his balls for the boy's cock and I worked it. The tension in Brice's limbs began to tighten as I slid his flesh, quick and religiously, consuming the shaft in greedy up and downward cycles until I felt Brice growing hard in me. I refused to let up, giving him a chance to go limp, therefore, with perverted enthusiasm, I masturbated him hard and fast until his earlier cries were transformed to erotic moans. I sucked him non-stop and in no time, Brice was grunting in rhythm to the bobbing of my head. I could see in my mind the smoothness of my lips as they glided so effortlessly over his delicate rod. He had grown to a satisfying length and I was grateful he had no pubic hair. I tightened my lips more on the upward slide and caused my ward to jerk in surprise and most likely in discomfort. Needless to say, the first hour of Brice Becker's captivity would prove to be the end of his innocence and the start of new, dark life.

2

I pressed harder until nearly half of my dick entered him and in mere seconds I was thrusting in a rhythm; beating in time with laboring lungs and a hammering heart-grunting and crying with intense pleasure-my cock sliding back and forth-bulging hard as every thrust plunged greedily toward the dark center of my young cousin. Brice's cries grew louder each time I perforated his rectum without care, searing the minute fissures that constituted the rippled edge of his hole. I smiled and gasped, rocking and humping as best as I could, hoping that the tip of my penis was planting admiring kisses to Brice's lower intestine. I could see my rod of flesh, married to the shit and bile juices as it entered his digestive track, slowing burrowing into his last breakfast as it made its way toward the unloading zone. I was happy hearing him cry and groan, struggling beneath me while I lunged hard, driving my ambition deeper than ever. The circumference of my prick appeared to be granting my new slave more pain than I expected. I laughed as I lowered my drooling mouth to his ear, "Isn't it fun taking it up the ass, Brice? It's just like Disneyland! It's the happiest place on earth!"

Brice mumbled through his gag, attempting to reply to my mocking grunts. But I countered, "It may not be the happiest place for you, but it's fucking Christmas to me! OH! AH! AH! OH MY GOD BRICE! SQUEEZE THAT ASS TIGHT FOR ME!" I said in a raspy, croaking voice.

Quite frankly, he didn't have to squeeze for me. The mere action of my raping cock made his rectum voluntarily contract, constricting my shaft in a tight grasp. I wish I would have thought to bring my camcorder to record the event. It would have been a moment in time to relive as I watched his face strain hard and his eyes shed tears while I showed no mercy and fucked his ass until I could go no more. Once he would stand for the first time, the sperm that pooled in his anus would leak; globs of my sin slowly cascading down his thighs. It was fun to dream a few minutes, if not hours, into a happy future where my come was spent and my heart had been forced to run a marathon and Brice's ass had been penetrated time and time again until the rim was swollen. He would never forget Halloween and he would no doubt ever watch another Star Wars film without thinking of how he had been abducted from his El Centro neighborhood; forced down onto the hard, cold floor-board of my van and bound like an animal and driven to an unknown location where his destiny awaited.

Brice Becker's life had been altered by me, Shannon Becker, teen of the desert, keeper of the cocks and there was no redemption or a prayer of absolution for this night. It would stain the boy for decades to come and if Brice ever fathered a child, would he endow his spawn with the fruit of his loins? Depending on how well I fucked him, would determine his future.

I pumped him faster than before the second I felt the climax rippling through me. It had come upon me in such a subtle way at first, but as it grew in intensity, my toes and my working arms and pumping groin began to tremble severely. I had felt as if I had been tossed onto a vibrating jack hammer. I had never once experienced the ferocity of such an orgasm that it caused me to scream uncontrollably; then the tiny spurt of semen started to squirt; inevitably flowing in heavier streams that I could tell I was coming hard. Had the worst of my ejaculations struck the kid in the eye at that moment, Brice would no doubt be blind for life.

My mind and my balls were both captured by such an animalistic need that I could not quit fucking his ass, that rather than cutting the kid a little slack, I hunkered down over him, threading my arms through his; then really laying my weight into every push, pounding his ass so hard the sound of flesh beating upon flesh was so loud that I was certain the neighboring house could hear me getting off. If my guess was right, whomever resided in the house next door would assume that some horny teen was on a hot, heavy date, losing his cherry. I remember thinking that there could be a bunch of guys with their ears flat against the plywood that covered the windows, hoping to get off on the heavy breathing and the moans. I still think to this very day that someone was on the other side of that wall that night, sharing my adventure. It's quite funny when I think about it.

Nevertheless, Brice took me in numerous times that night. I enjoyed ramming him like it was no big deal, but to know that I had his perfect body beneath me and my life-producing seed sloshing around in that dark place where the shit never ceases, made me feel as if I had just met a movie star. I humped his rump and all the while, my spittle pooled on his head, oozing from his temple down to the bridge of his nose where it again had enough enthusiasm to flow lazily to the sweat-soaked sleeping bag.

3

The fear and the tears was all I needed for a reply. Those eyes. They inspire and they also conspire as well. I could see the contempt ever so great now than before.

I ripped the tape from his mouth in a brutal move; just then he motioned his lips to split and make the first of would-be wails, but when I brought my fingers together to mimic scissors, he thought twice. I inched my face closer to his, surveying the beauty of a boy so perfect that how could any pedophile or incestuous father not want to bed with such a handsome boy?

I planted a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose; then allowed the tip of my tongue to penetrate each nostril, paying tribute to every hole in his body as best as I could. I found that his nose was as pleasurable as his young cock. I found myself sucking on it, milking it so hungrily between my wet lips, sucking on it as I had done to his dick-holding his head as I proceeded.

Brice grunted and breathed steadily; occasionally feeling the sucking action of his nostrils as it tried to breath in my tongue. It was a unique experience and I think Brice enjoyed this as I truly believed he enjoyed having my lips around the shaft of his prick.

I'm not sure how long I stayed in that position, feasting on my cousin's nose, but I was happily feasting on it until my mouth traveled down and made contact with his thin lips; kissing them, tasting them until my kissing intensified into an oral adventure of madness. I was almost convinced that Brice enjoyed the kissing-his own lips working themselves upon mine and by that time my hands were holding each cheek while I mewled and kissed him uncontrollably. My tongue entered his mouth like a plumbing snake, probing the dark, warm mysteries, feeling teeth, tongue and the roof of his mouth, like sampling a dish of such elegance that one could not deny the palate the compliment of a goblet of a fine, aged wine. He was at the right age for tasting and who was I to not to indulge in fine dining? The only thing lacking was the tuxedo and the white, cotton gloves and the fucking five piece stringed quartet.

Really now, my mind just goes overboard sometimes trying to describe what I enjoyed that Halloween night. Next thing I know, I'll have Robin Leach in my head with cameras, talking like a fag, describing the elegance of my victim's luxurious body, describing how exquisitely his cock is trimmed and how cool his ass feels and how big his mouth is for fucking.

With each kiss administered, the need to relieve my cock of my come assaulted me with a nasty desire that I could barely hold the sperm from jetting out.

"Listen, Kid," I said, "I'm going to put my peepee in your mouth and your gonna let it rub past those pretty lips of yours and when I'm happy, you'll get a nice creamy treat that you'll-"

"No! Please! Mister!" Brice begged. "Play with my bum or my dink, but please 3;" He sobbed, unable to finish his statement.

"You bite me, not only your tongue gets cut out, I'll break every tooth in your mouth and you'll be in more pain than you'll ever experience in a lifetime! You got that, cocksucker!" I said quietly, but forcefully.

The worst thing about this new adventure for Brice, was that my cock was covered with his shit and sperm (a unique combination to say the least) and he would get a chance to taste what he had eaten for breakfast and lunch.

4

He wasn't wrong either. With my nuts on fire (and not in a moment of erotic bliss) I reached over to where my pants lay and I tried my best to get dressed, despite the inferno of pain. In a matter of minutes, the Imperial County Sheriff's Office would descend upon this old dwelling like flies on shit, looking for the big bad wolf that had drilled a young pre-teen boy. My only concern was to get the fuck out of Dodge before Wyatt Earp and his men showed up.

I laced each leg into each pant; grabbed my shirt and the Walmart bag with the receipts of all my purchases and painfully made my way out of the old house and groaned miserably as I mounted the squeaky bucket seat to my nineteen-eighty-nine Ford Econoline.

I could hear a commotion coming from the front of the house with my eleven-year-old cousin screaming that he had been raped by a stranger. Had I not been in pain, I would have smiled and winked an eye at an unfolding memory of Brice getting up his ass, but my boldness was nothing more than a mouse's squeak.

I started the engine and drove casually out of the neighborhood. I had to be careful and try my best to conceal my face as removing the red and black face would require water and a rag to rid my guilt. Until then, I would have to hurry out of town.

I saw the flashing red and blue lights of the police cruisers as I turned onto Highway seventy-eight and headed calmly toward San Diego. My belly trembled uncontrollably as I prayed for the county line, thinking that at any minute, me and my sore nuts were being hunted like a wild beast. Any traffic violation could end my life as I knew it – so playing it safe and carrying out the lie of a camping trip to the scrub covered mountains of the Cleveland National Forest would have to play out. At least I had conquered that young, gloriously handsome, eleven-year-old body and that his cherry had been claimed by me.

Even when and if I got the nerve to return back to Brawley, I knew that Brice would have no idea who is molester had been. Each time I spoke to him; each time I spoke out, my voice was altered by emotion and he really never knew me in a true sense anyway. So I felt safe in that respect.

As for my van, he never really got a look at it, because when I grabbed the kid, his eyes were covered by my hand.

So, in retrospect, with no witnesses, I was safe.

5

Mom said in such a desperate tone, "Oh Shannon, Shannon, my dear god, Shannon," she cried, "I was so worried for you, Dear! I was afraid the man got you too!"

"Man?" I asked, sensing the conversation was starting to tilt my way.

"My Goodness. How silly of me, you've been out camping. A nasty, pervert of a man grabbed your cousin, Brice. He was kidnapped and brought here to Brawley where he was raped for hours. Oh, how terrible!" She cried.

To be honest, I wanted to laugh and tell her it was the best fuck of my life and how I would enjoy going at the little Fucker again. But instead, I offered a "You're kidding! Is he ok? Did they catch the creep?"

"My Lord, he's still on the loose!"

"Do they at least know who the scum bag is?"

"No. Poor Brice is so shaken up that he can't even give any details. The Sheriff said that there's no chance in catching the animal that did this since there's no witness and Brice can't describe that 3; that beast! Can you imagine that happening to such a sweet boy?"

Yeah Mom, I can imagine it happening. I can see my fat cock stretching that tight, fucking asshole giving way to my horny cock, ripping in and out, extracting blood and shit, making him scream and beg for death, I thought to myself, but all I said was, "That is so terrible, is he ok?"

"I doubt he'll ever be ok. Oh Shannon, please come home. I'm so terrified! With that creature running loose out there, I'm so afraid!"

"Ah Mom, he picked on a kid, he's probably one of those perverts that like boys and he probably moved onto Mexico or San Diego."

"Shannon, please come home, I'm so worried!"

"Ok, I'll come home."

And home is where I went.

I expected to get swarmed by Sheriff's officers and a chaotic neighborhood crying out "PERVERT" and "CHILD-MOLESTER" and a host of other nasty names, but all I got that day were hugs and kisses. I wanted to laugh my ass off, but instead I humored my mother and she was so relieved to have me home that I got a wonderful home-cooked, pot roast dinner.

It wasn't until several days later that I went to Brice's home and I sat down next to him in his room, presenting him with a stuffed teddy bear and a big hug. Not once did he get scared with me and not once did he ever suspect that the teen boy cuddling with him was the very man who had taken him for the ride of his young life.

As I stated earlier, it was a victory, but my goal was to have his beautiful lips wrapped around my cock, shit or not, but that never happened.

To this date, I am still tempted to pay my cousin a visit and fuck him until he is a babbling idiot, drooling the sperm from his mouth after I have mouth-fucked him until I have had my fantasy fulfilled, but for now, I will wait and seek out the unsuspecting little kids of Brawley until my cousin Brice is ready for part two of this heated adventure; I only hope that you'll all come along and see me come and come again. Until then 3; I lurk.

The End

#4
The Catalogue

Dear Friends,

Once more I bring another tale to the groups. I hope you enjoyed my recent, "Turner's Fifteen Minutes," as much as I enjoyed writing it. Part of the story you are about to read is based in part upon truth. Memory recalls an incident back in the late 70's where child sex rings that were well organized, featured abducted children in a catalogue that one could order from according to age and looks. I may have been one of many kids featured so long ago, but I could be wrong. Nevertheless, the following characters and names are a product of fiction. No such behavior should be reproduced as this is a story for personal use and is not intended as a guide for ANY ILLEGAL CONDUCT! Read and dream responsibly!

I was vacationing at Martha's Vineyard when I accidently stumbled across a hidden compartment in my summer rental. The owner-whom I rented from for the week-was seriously into kids. I found a stash of Polaroids in that small niche where the catalogue had been; depicting himself along with young boys and girls-mostly the age of seven on up. I could see the owner in almost every shot. In one photo, he was sodomizing a blonde boy; in another he was deeply penetrating a young girl who was obviously in agony; her mouth was twisted and tears stained her cheeks. In some of the other photos, the boy and girl were engaged, then in the last picture, the owner of the beach house was having sex with both. Just to see what had taken place here on the island and in that house made me hunger for the same dish the owner had had.

That day, as the humidity was so thick that I could slice it with a knife, I sat on the porch facing Nantucket Sound, watching pleasure craft sail by as a sticky breeze blew. I drank a cool Corona beer while I flipped through this catalogue. Its primary color was black with multiple frames of colored pictures. At first I though it was a brochure for children's clothing, but as I read the titles and names and continued on, I realized that this was no Sears catalogue. It was a catalogue of child prostitutes. My heart began to pound relentlessly and my stomach sank at this discovery.

Each page displayed children of varying ages; of different races, sorted hair and eye colors. The youngest depicted was a baby of perhaps a year (possibly younger) and the eldest was a boy that looked as old as thirteen.

This couldn't be, I thought to myself, flipping from one page to the next.

This booklet was sizeable. There must have been over a hundred kids pictured and along with their faces were small pictures showing what each boy or girl had under their clothes. I could barely breathe just knowing that such a thing existed.

On the final page, I found a yellow Post-It stuck to the back cover and on it was a telephone number, password, user I.D. and a number symbol.

I flipped through the pages once more and saw a number sign beside each child. For a seven-year-old girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, her code number was: TE-165. For a ten-year-old boy with red hair the code was: BW-410.

I could barely take another mouthful of the Corona that now tasted acidic as I swallowed it. Everything seemed to change in just a few minutes. Here I was, on vacation from my job as a doctor from the west coast, doing nothing but relaxing. But now that I discovered this treasure, my cock was incredibly hard just by thinking all I had to do was get on the phone and order a little action. I'm rich, earning a little over $200 a patient, so If I can muster enough courage, my vacation will have a whole new meaning.

I paced back and forth in the kitchen, afraid to pick up the phone. I eyed that fucking thing on the wall, terrified and nervous to lift and dial the number on the Post-It. I battled within my mind whether I should call or not, and what if it was a police sting on the other end. I can't tell you the horrors that went through my mind for those very long thirty minutes. Every "what-if" piled on me like blankets of lead. I wanted to scream so loud that I slammed that fucking catalogue on the kitchen counter-lifted the handset of the phone from its cradle-and dialed the cursed number.

At first I seriously thought that I would get an annoying recording that 'the number I was dialing has been disconnected and is no longer in service,' but the number connected and a man with a gruff voice answered, "How can I help you?" he answered.

Almost afraid to speak, I mumbled stupidly, "Uh 3; order-"

"You want to place an order?" The man on the other end said.

Finally clearing my voice, I excused myself and said more clearly, "I'd like to place an order for the island."

"Password," the man said.

"R-O-M-P-E-R," I read and spelled it out from the Post-It.

"User I.D.?"

"199360-FOXTROT," I read.

"Which Island would you like your order delivered to?"

For almost a minute, I nearly forgot where I was, then I remembered, "The Vineyard."

The man on the other end fell silent and I could hear him punching keys into what I thought to be a computer keyboard.

Then quite suddenly he said, "Mr. Connor are you still in the same place where your last order was delivered?" He asked. I glanced quickly at the Polaroids and immediately recognized the upstairs master bedroom. Mr. Connor was Elliot Conner, the owner-renter of my summer home and it was his account that I was using 3; blindly I might add.

"Yes, I haven't moved." I said.

"Have you made a selection Mr. Connor?"

I flipped through the pages of my catalogue from hell, found a picture of blue-eyed boy so cute that I asked if he was available once I gave the code number.

There was silence, with the exception of the series of keyboard clicks, then, "Yes, that boy is available, will you like an additional order?"

"No, TC-288 will be just fine. When can I expect delivery?"

"For the Vineyard, that'll be four hours. The fee will be the same as your last rental."

"I'm sorry, I forget what I last paid."

"That'll be $750 per day. We now accept credit cards. Would you like to charge this order?"

This couldn't be happening. It was like ordering a fucking pizza or a floral arrangement. I opened my wallet and pulled out my American Express card and read off the numbers and the expiration date to the fellow, then I instructed him that I would like a three day session with my purchase. He indicated that was no problem and if I needed extra days, simply call and update my account.

I supposed that if I took off with the kid, some fat, hulkinng man named Bruno would come to pay me a visit, and not just for a friendly chat, sipping ice-tea, but with a bat for breaking limbs.

The man at the other end of the phone thanked me for my order and hung-up.

My legs felt weak, rubbery. I sat at the kitchen table, my stomach filled with what felt like shards of broken glass, but I knew it was fear mingled with excitement with a dash of reality thrown into the mix. This couldn't be happening to a guy like me. I'm the sort of guy that spends most of his time in an office, listening to patients talk about their pains, but here I was, man of prestige, sitting at the kitchen table after he just got done ordering a little boy for a three day fuck session.

I was counting the hours and minutes. I was dreading the possibility that perhaps my renter had changed his address with this evil service and that in less than four hours, the kid would show up with a man at Conner's permanent home-then the jig would be up.

I managed to burn nearly an hour by taking a shower, washing away the humidity from me and refreshing my breath, preparing to entertain myself with a young boy – unless the order was nothing more than a trap. Only time would tell.

I pulled the covers back on my bed and fluffed the pillows and lowered the temperature on the air conditioning controls, then returned to the kitchen and extracted another Corona. I sat back in the chair and looked at the boy's photo in the catalogue and realized I had not fully read his history. According to the printed biography, the boy was seven-year-old Sean Pope, a thin young boy with dirty-blonde hair, blue-painted eyes, a fine field of innocent freckles that adorned the cheeks and nose with childish simplicity. The info stated that the boy had been abducted from the Prescott area of Arizona. Whatever method was used to acquire the kid, the catalogue didn't say, but I'm willing to bet it wasn't easy.

Had my uncle Jack not used my asshole as his pussy for the two-years he had me, I would have been horrified at this book of children. I would have called the local law enforcement agency and report Mr. Elliot Conner (if you please) for being a paying participant of a child sex ring; but I dare not open my mouth because Conner and I both kept the same company.

My uncle Jack use to molest me with great frequency, thrusting his fat cock into me, anally and orally, and he enjoyed squirting his spirit in me, and at times, when he was too drunk to get off his ass, he'd use my mouth as a toilet, taking a heavy piss in me-forcing me to swallow. Whatever drips or spills that landed on the sheets, Jack would make me suck the fabric until his urine was well removed. Two years of that had perverted my senses enough to know from my teen years that young boys were sexy beings that needed fucking. Their innocence, their smoothness was gratifying to say the least. I enjoyed working on child patients, because I could justify having them stripped, and touch their untanned skin-fingering their tight rectums and fondling their balls-checking for hernias.

I heard the door bell ring just as I was starting to drift off into a sleep. Then I heard a loud knock.

I got up and quickly answered the door.

Before me, wearing a silky Hawaiian shirt and fedora hat, khaki shorts, dark sunglasses and a cigar dangling from his mouth, stood a beefy man with a port wine birthmark on his left cheek, speaking in a guttural tone, "Mr. Conner?" He said.

"In the flesh," I said nervously.

"I have your order."

"Please, come in."

The boy was quiet. He was by far, more beautiful in person than the photo in the catalogue. His hair was longer and he wore his denim pants perfectly, outlining his ass. He was so enticing that I felt my erection returning to spite my nervousness.

The man that looked like a vacationer removed his fedora, exposing a bald scalp, then I thought of my earlier prediction of Bruno the leg breaker. Sometimes my mind scares me when accuracy enters the picture.

"You won't have any problems with the boy," the man said, "he's broken in. You'll have a fun time, just keep him healthy and no mutilation, otherwise we'll mutilate you!"

"Oh, of course not," I said, sensing the fear re-entering.

The man placed his hat back on his scalp and bit down on his would-be Havana, then tilted the corner of the brim in a kindly gesture, then said with a wicked smirk, "Don't let him wear you thin, we'd hate to find out you croaked from a coronary taking the boy for a ride."

"I assure you, I'm quite fit."

"That's what the last customer said, then croaked. We had to reclaim our losses by tracking down a related boy from his family once the cops took away our merchandise."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said. This was very much like the mafia. As a matter of fact, I was quite certain this WAS the mafia that provided the service. The hulking man in vacation threads looked Italian. If I so much as fucked up this kid inadvertently, they would no doubt send me to the bottom of the Hudson River, or plant me where they disposed of Jimmy Hoffa. But then again, they thought I was Elliot Conner, owner of the summer house. They'd go after him instead of me.

As Bruno (whatever his name was) left, I escorted my angel up the stairs. Beyond the insulated walls of the cottage, I could hear the excited laughter of people on a passing sailboat waft into the house. I couldn't help but to think they were having fun out on the ocean, but in minutes I'd be deep within the throes of heated sexual bliss.

Sean Pope sat at the edge of the king-size bed and when I drew close-without instruction-the boy reached out to me and began unbuckling my belt; undoing the brass button and the zipper to my pants, then pulled my shorts and briefs down to my ankles. Sean caressed my cock in his soft, small hands, running his fingers over every shape, fingering the smooth-rounded edge of my trimmed manhood, stroking the under shaft carefully rolling my balls in his palms, working me into a lust that was so profound that pre-cum began to leak. Sean saw the sticky leakage and bent forward and began to lick it. His tongue was so soft, warm and moist that I felt I could have the kid sewed or glued to me for eternity. He wrapped both hands over the shaft, then filled his mouth with as much of myself as he could. His warm mouth transmitted so many feelings to my brain that I began to melt where I stood. His small hands gripped me hard, pulling on me as he shoved his head forward, then backward, stimulating the reservoir that had damned the pools of life. His wet lips pressed and milked so enthusiastically that I began to mouth incoherent pleasures. I must of used every perverted word, every name of dream boys embedded in my mind, the names of every lover I've bedded with since my youth, and the secret profanities that I had wanted to utter toward uncle Jack, but never did.

Sean made me rock, back and forth, like tripping out on a bad acid hit not knowing I was swaying like a wheat stalk in the wind-eyes closed-and smiling happily. His moist tongue kissed the singular hole in the tip of my prick with every forward gulp of meat, manipulating it. I could feel the explosion, far more destructive than the Oklahoma City detonation, growing in such an intensity that I shuddered where I stood, still melting, bending at my knees and forcing Sean to his knees until he ended under me on the floor. I banged hard against his face, forced my dick deep, gasped loud exclamations of lewdness-pounding so hard that if my cock had been a knife, he'd have a hole at the back of his skull. "Uuuh 3; m-m-m-my-" I could barely breath. The hold this kid had upon me was disturbing. He wouldn't let up. He encouraged me to stuff his mouth deeper, even at the threshold at which a person would provoke the gag reflex. The man that had delivered my order had mentioned the kid was broken in, and deep throating this boy was proof.

Like a swift natural disaster, the flood gates of my balls broke loose, letting a rushing current of pearly discharge to jet out and into Sean's mouth, coating him heavily. I could feel the numerous ejaculating globs that pumped out. The boy would cough, choke a bit, then swallow my come as fast as I could deliver it. I was thrusting madly against his face with a fierce rocking motion. If I wasn't careful, the kid would end up bruised and leave Bruno the Italian to think I had sadistically beaten the boy for pleasure; thus having a session with Bruno's brass knuckles in three days.

I managed to work out another orgasm, still filling the boy's belly with my cream, rocking in and out, humping his face until my sweaty face started showering the Persian rug beneath us. I gave five hateful stabs, ejecting several heavy wads of sperm into his mouth before I finished.

I pulled off my young boy-whore and laid beside him, gasping for hair. The room seemed so hot and humid that I was certain the air conditioner was broken or simply off, but looking at the palm tree in the corner of the bedroom, its fronds danced like phantom whispers in an enchanted forest.

Sean was mashing his chops together, trying to work out the sticky semen from his mouth and into his throat, and also heaving for air just as I.

When my heart wasn't racing a marathon or my lungs laboring for precious air, I turned onto my side and began to undo Sean's pants, unzipping them, peeling away his white cotton briefs as well, then relieved him of his white and blue striped shirt.

His body, the parts that were mostly exposed to the sun, were soft and creamy, his thighs tight and lean, and his groin, both genital area and ass were pale white as chalk.

I carried Sean in my arms and laid his small form in the center of the bed and planted myself between his legs and sucked his cock, gulping both his growing stub and balls. He jerked, moaned, then eased into the oral masturbation I provided, strenuously milking him as he had done to me, except I could accommodate his entire sex with a singular mouthful. Every warm curve of his trimmed penis was to perfection and every tiny ripple or imperfection on or around his nuts made me feel as if I had died and had gone to Pedo Heaven. What lay between his legs was a meal that only a boy-lover could appreciate. Sean moaned, grunted every time my promiscuous mouth ingested him, tightening hard around his pinky-sized dick, sucking, lapping, squeezing him hard, trying with all of my soul to extract anything-even pee-to satisfy the hunger that may never be satisfied.

Sean jerked, tensed, jerked again, then started panting, mewling and went totally stiff. From the corner of my eye, I could see his small feet twitching in unison with my repeated devouring of his flesh. "NOOOOO!" Sean cried, tensed, mewled, then grabbed my head and pulled on my hair. The pain he caused me only fueled that inner fire that Satan himself stoked, adding to the fierce embers that glowed bright red, creating the motivation in biblical proportions. The more Sean reacted to my squeezing lips, the louder he moaned until his moans were transformed into mild cries. I slid his young, hairless rod faster, in and out, until I felt the very tip of his penis plump and throb repeatedly on my tongue, then a quick squirt of warm, salty liquid struck my throat. Pee. The boy had achieved an abusive orgasm that his bladder contracted enough to release a quick spurt of urine. I drank it and began to taper off. The poor kid gasped and continued to cry mildly when I let loose of his cock.

My neck was stiff and throbbing from my exertions. No doubt by morning, I'd be paid in full once I awoke.

While I rested on my back and Sean wheezed for dear breath, I pulled the young boy onto me, wrapping my arms about his waist. He felt clammy against me while I squeezed him. I have had many lovers over the years, women that would straddle my side and whisper eternal promises of devotion, chanting seductive tones in my ears-words of no meaning and lacking collateral-only to leave my bed with their pledges reserved for someone else; but the carnal play in bed (by each lover) paled pathetically in comparison to what Sean was producing. His silky body fit me better than my potential mates of the past, and when I pressed my trembling lips upon the boy's, his return effort made me feel as if I had fucked twenty women all at once, but were still unable to compete with this small boy. Our lips blended like fine ingredients to a gourmet meal, splicing, intertwining, bonding so perfect that it seemed like the kiss of death and all I had to do was wait for that fatal thump in my heart, then feel the convulsion of a fibrillating ventricle, then death; but all that came was more excitement and heavy anticipation. I prayed inwardly that the hands of time would cease, that all mention of day or night would be eliminated from human vocabulary, where only life was set like a broken clock, forever displaying that singular minute that would last eternally.

Sean inserted his tongue into my mouth, probing me like an inquisitive child that he should be, searching me for some treasure within me that he had never found in anyone else. I enjoyed how his tongue glided upon my lips like milking the sweetness of a juice ice bar, licking and tasting until nothing but the wooden sticks were left.

I returned the favor and entered his mouth and began scooping at teeth, gums, cheek walls and tongue, tasting a flavored toothpaste as I licked. Both our tongues greeted, pressed, then wrestled wildly until our lips were once more locked in a graceful kiss.

The blistering sun that shone brightly over Nantucket Sound was now surrendering toward the west, its light dimming in my windows just as I topped the boy from behind. I stuffed a fluffly pillow beneath his groin, exposing more of his ass than usual. I buried my face between his milky cheeks-licked hungrily at his rectum-moistening his tight sphincter for lubrication, then pulled away and mounted his ass with my sizable cock. The tip of it pressed against his rectum until I began to apply pressure, and surprisingly, his rectal muscle gave way easily admitting me inside. Sean grunted at the intrusion, but held his tongue once I began to thrust in deep. I found him to be pliable-accepting half of my sex up his hole with great ease and a moderate tightness that squeezed me. I began my ritualistic humping, sodomizing the boy without care, fucking him fast and hard, only to hear him grunt with every inward push of cock. I packed whatever contents were inside him, inserting my rod that was meant for a pussy, but instead was given to a boy, a paid lover who allowed me into the dark realms that he alone owned, but was leased by force by his benefactors. Sean breathed hard as my thighs 'slapped' against the smooth curves of his ass, and I cried out at the intense sizzle of penetration that glided so easily, poking through strong muscle. I turned my rocking into Sean Pope's ass into a perverted dance, a tribal practice of penetration and invasion, a rape that I alone controlled and a rape that would not cease anytime soon. His body was mine at $750 a day and I suppose the kid knew that he was expected to give his ass freely. I didn't expect Bruno the Italian to hand me a customer survey card to rate how the cockling preformed. If he did, I would no doubt report the kid dished out above and beyond my expectation. I just fucked him, and fucked him until the waning sun was replaced by a slivered moon and its wash bathed the room in a silvery glow. I came, many times, squirting threads of my DNA deep into his bowls, concocting a soup in his anus, stirring it with every thrust of my dick, and if I could add a bit of flour, I'd have a brown gravy ready for whatever dish I wanted.

Nevertheless, I continued molesting the boy, thrusting and pumping, constantly letting large, streams of sperm to shoot from me, stretching Sean without rest, without conviction, hoping that I could continue, but with the passing hours and the richness of the night, I fucked my ward for hours until the sky began to turn a lavender hue, then a bright crimson, hailing a new day.

It wasn't until the sky was blue that I dislodged from Sean. The boy had fallen asleep long ago, and simply laid cooperatively while I rode his ass non-stop up to this labored point.

My arms and legs, not to forget the ache in the small of my back kept reminding me of my age.

I laid quietly, watching the kid breathe rhythmically and undisturbed. It was clear that Sean had been the victim of repeated rape, by many men. Rapid penetration of his bottom and the deep throating of his mouth never really bothered him, leaving me with a well mannered child that hosted the party.

I owe Elliot Conner, the man that had left the catalogue for me to find. It had been a silly accident really. I was holding a basketball that fell from my grasp which went bouncing toward the unused fireplace and knocked over a fire poker, which thankfully struck part of the brick facade, knocking a single brick from its niche. When I pulled it out, I realized that the brick wasn't just a weakened piece of masonry, but served as hiding place. There was no money or expensive jewelry, only Conner's sordid, secret life.

Anyway, I think I've told you all that happened in most of my twenty-four hours, and I will repeat day one a tad later once I get some rest. Until then, I must take my leave of all of you and dream happily, dream eternally I pray. A great thing that catalogue. I just hope I can send away for an updated version. Nighty-night!

The End