Reaping What You Sow - Part 1: Doing the Crime (t/b, reluc/nc, oral, anal, ws, scat) by Coproman It finally happens when you are 18 years old. It was born many years before, probably when you were in junior high school, but it's taken time to grow, to metastasize, until it becomes the malignancy it is today. You've tried to play it off, to pretend it doesn't exist. After all, you're a strapping young black man with a healthy sexual appetite. But it's persistent. It keeps coming back. So you deal with it by buying illegal videos and pictures, and reading all the stories you can find on-line, and jacking off to them over and over again. It's not as satisfying as the real thing, but at least it keeps you away from elementary school playgrounds. Your girlfriend also helps. Because she's so petite, whenever you fuck her it's easy to pretend you're fucking a little girl. And whenever you have anal sex, it's easy to pretend you're fucking a little boy. But invariably she does or says something to remind you that she is, in fact, an 18-year-old just like you, and it always kills the mood. Fortunately you usually manage to get your rocks off a few times before that happens. You're lucky too that your neighborhood has so few families with kids. Because of that, you don't have to make an extra effort to avoid them. The problem is that there is something about you that attracts them to you as much as it does you to them. It's as if the first thing they see is the child in you, and they want to play with that child. You're pretty sure that's the way it happened with...him. You meet him when he and his mom move into the building next to yours. It turns out that she and your mom were schoolmates, and your mom is thrilled that her old friend is now living so close by. She is separated; he is the six-year-old product of that failed union. Like you, he is an only child. The first time you meet them, he comes right over to you and hugs your legs. His mother is impressed. "He's not usually that affectionate with strangers," she says. You smile weakly and nod while patting his head. He makes you nervous because "that" part of you instantly recognizes the potential in him. Side by side you couldn't be more different: He is in first grade; you are in your first year of college. He is slightly under four feet tall; you are slightly under six feet tall. He is a light-skinned with close-cropped hair; you are a dark-skinned with a short afro. Worst of all is the 12-year difference in your ages, which seems insurmountable. What can a six-year-old and an 18-year-old possibly have in common? Your hormones are raging while his are almost non-existent. You play football; he plays tag. You fuck coeds; he thinks girls are "icky." The only thing you really share is the only-child thing. Despite the disparities, you like him and he likes you, and, naturally, that attraction overrides all of your differences. But you know the relationship should not be encouraged. You understand that even innocent roughhousing is risky because of what it is likely to lead to. But he is a moth and you are a flame, so your destinies have already been determined. The journey begins when his mom asks your mom if you are available for babysitting on Saturdays. You are her last resort, she tells your mom, because the regular sitters and daycare centers find him too hard to manage. You hem and haw. You know his mom works a 12-hour shift and you want to keep your weekends free. But mostly you don't trust yourself being alone with him. So you know the best, the safest thing to do is say no. But, of course, you don't. You justify the "yes" by telling yourself that you can use the money the do-nothing, no-thinking job pays. You are also flattered by her "last resort" remark. And besides, you figure if you just get together with your girlfriend on Friday nights and/or Sundays, you'll be able to sidestep the danger you're flirting with. Your approach seems to work. Being with him is like having a little brother, and the more time you spend with him, the more certain things about him surprise you. He's very athletic for his age. He easily shimmies up the trees in the park and scares the shit out of you when he hangs precariously from the upper limbs. He can also throw a Frisbee like a motherfucker, and you have to stifle your laughter when he nearly decapitates a little redheaded girl who strays into the path of the deadly disc. In fact he seems to be aggressive in everything he does and with everyone he encounters. Except you. With you he is as docile as a lamb. You're sure that's why his mother asked you to babysit him. She knows he'll do whatever you tell him to. Unfortunately she's right. Things continue to go well for the next three Saturdays, probably because you've been getting it on hot and heavy with your girlfriend on Fridays and Sundays. So your day with him in between has been like your sexual day off. And after playing all day in the park, you're both too tired to get into trouble anyway. So coming back home for him has been a matter of eating supper, watching a little TV, playing some video games, then washing up, putting on his jammies, and falling asleep. And for you it's been fixing supper, watching TV and playing video games with him, then putting him to bed, making a few calls, snacking, and trying to stay awake until his mom gets home. You pat yourself on the back for being so "good." But the following weekend everything changes. You have a heated argument with your girlfriend and she doesn't want to see you. Then two minutes after you arrive to babysit, it starts raining cats and dogs, so you are stuck in the house with him all day. After several hours--despite the TV shows, the DVDs, and the computer games--he's so bored that he starts getting rambunctious on you, something he's never done before. It's not long before you're ready to tie him to a chair. You resolve to look around for some rope or cord right after you take a leak. But "that" part of you is so inventive that it lets you see how your need to go is also the perfect solution to your problem. "Hey, you wanna watch me pee?" you ask him. Your words are like a shot of Ritalin. He immediately calms down and his eyes light up as he stares at you. "Yeah!" he replies, grinning. "Then come on." You head for the bathroom and he is right on your heels, almost running into you when you stop to turn on the light. Lifting the lid and seat of the toilet, you unzip your jeans, exposing the white cotton of your briefs. But instead of pulling out your dick, you look at him and smile. "Wanna take it it out for me?" His eyes get a little bigger and he breathily says "Yeah!" again, accenting it with a quick nod. "Okay. But be careful." You turn toward him and he reaches inside your fly. He fumbles around, trying to get his hand inside your underwear. Eventually he does, and you moan when you feel his fingers on your semihard cock. After a bit more fumbling he manages to pull it through the fly. He gasps when he gets his first look at it. "Wow! It's really big!" he says, examining it. You decide to show him your whole package, so you reach down and pull your balls through the fly as well. "Ooooooh!" he coos, marveling at them. He's especially intrigued by the hairs on them and gently tugs at a few strands before cupping them and running his hand along your shaft and over your glans. His touch is so stimulating that you have to take his hand off your dick to keep it from getting too hard to piss comfortably. But as soon as you remove it, "that" part of you objects. "Wanna hold it while I'm going?" you ask him, your own words coming as a surprise to you. This time he just nods, as if he's too excited to speak, and his eyes seem to get even bigger. You turn toward the toilet and he gingerly grasps your penis and aims it at the bowl. "Ready?" you ask him. He nods again. You smile and relax your bladder. Instantly a golden stream spouts out of your urethra, hitting the rim of the bowl and splashing onto the floor. He quickly adjusts his aim, sending your pee where it's supposed to go, and he watches intently as it foams up when it hits the water. Then he moves your dick in circles, cooing again at the way the stream bends and twists as your piss hits different parts of the water. When your flow finally begins to dry up, he gently squeezes your cock as if to milk out the last drops. When you're done he starts to move his hand away, but this time you put yours on top of it to keep it where it is. Now that you've answered nature's call, there's no need rein in your libido any longer. Your dick instantly begins to harden again, and you smile at his expression of utter delight as he watches and feels it grow. Soon it's so big that it outgrows his grasp. Two seconds later it stands at its full eight-inch length and six-inch girth. "Wow!!" he gasps, his big brown eyes glued to your weapon. "I never seen one get THAT big before!" "So you've seen OTHERS get big?" you ask him, picking up on his phrasing. He looks up at you with a deer-in-the-headlights expression and claps his hand over his mouth. "It's okay," you assure him, "you can tell me." After hesitating he informs you how once, during a sleepover at his friend's house, he spied on his friend's older brother through the keyhole of their bathroom. It wasn't planned. He'd gotten up to pee, but when he went to the bathroom, the door was closed and he'd heard heavy breathing coming from inside. So he'd looked through the keyhole and seen his friend's brother sitting on the toilet pulling on his pecker. He'd watched in fascination as it got bigger and bigger and his friend's brother pulled at it faster and faster until, finally, he moaned and frowned like he was in pain and began to shiver like he was cold. "Then a big drop of white pee came outta his thing," he tells you. After that, his friend's brother wiped his cock with some toilet paper, stood up, and pulled up his pajamas, that last move being a cue to the six-year-old to retreat to his friend's room. Only after he heard the toilet flush and his friend's brother walk back to his own room and close the door did he venture back to the bathroom to pee. "And you never told ANYone you watched him?" you ask. "No," he says, shaking his head. "Not even my friend. 'Cause I thought I might get in trouble." For a hot second you imagine yourself as his friend's older brother. If you had spied him looking through the keyhole, you'd have invited him in. You're sure you'd have saved toilet paper that night by depositing your load someplace much better. And after that you might have invited him into your room to make even more deposits. But you're glad things didn't happen that way. It makes the lesson he's about to learn all the more exciting...for both teacher and student. You sit him on the toilet and stand in front of him. "Open your mough and close your eyes, and you will get a big surprise," you sing, "big" being the operative word. Even though he knows exactly what's coming, he smiles and does what you tell him to do anyway. You hold the back of his head with one hand, aim your dick with the other, and inch forward. The moment your glans touches his lips, you get harder. And as your shaft enters his mouth, you begin to believe that this is where you cock was always meant to be. You're surprised when nearly three-quarters of it disappears inside his mouth before triggering his gag reflex, which causes an explosion of spit all over your boner. "Wow!" you remark as you watch the saliva bubble out from between his lips and your shaft. "That feels awesome." He looks up at you, but there's too much cock stuffed in his mouth for you to decipher his expression. The sight of his pink lips wrapped around your fat brown shaft, however, is almost humorous. You avert your gaze and tell him to close his eyes again. When he does you hold the back of his head with both hands and begin to fuck his mouth, slowly at first, pushing in no farther than about half way. He grunts every time you spear him, and you convince yourself that he's doing it because he's a pig boy at heart and truly enjoys what you're doing to him. But he has no idea how demanding "that" part of you can get. Even you don't know, since you've never before allowed it the kind of free reign it's getting today. So both of you are surprised when you begin to mouth-fuck him more forcefully, now giving him six inches of dick to negotiate with every plunge. Then a switch flips in your brain and, clutching the back of his head like you're clutching your girlfriend's ass, you proceed to give him the Full Deep Pussy Treatment, ramming all eight inches into his mouth. You're not angry at him but you act like it, bucking your hips in a frenzy as you rape his throat. With every stroke your balls bounce off his chin and your crotch crashes into his face. He reacts by continuing to grunt, but it is more high-pitched now, sounding very much like a barking seal, only muted. It is an interesting counterpoint to the sound of the spit sloshing in his mouth. As much as you'd like to fuck his pharynx all day, you can no longer hold back what's been building up inside you ever since you asked him if he wanted to watch you take a piss. Indeed "that" part of you doesn't want to hold it back any longer since it's never fed semen to a six-year-old before and is eager to see how it feels to dump it down his throat. "I'm gonna come!" you tell him, still furiously humping his head. "Get ready for it!" You figure he understands that "it" is the "white pee" and that he needs to prepare to drink it. But you also know that he probably thinks it will be no more than the "big drop" that spurted out of his friend's brother's dick. You can't wait to surprise him. Yelping and flinching, you thrust your hips forward while pulling hard on the back of his head, crushing his face against your stomach. Your dick is so far down his throat you swear you can feel his tonsils. The warm, wet, tight sensation is incredible, similar to the feeling of being fully ensheathed in your girlfriend's cunt, only better. And the feeling of his nose pressing into your pubic hair is just as intense. "Take it!" you yell at him, trembling. "Swallow my load, you little pussy!" You come like you've never come before. You shoot so much sperm down his throat that he can't handle it and begins to choke. He tries to pull away from you, but you have a solid hold on his head and he can't move. You listen to his muffled squeals and watch tears seep out of his eyes and "white pee" spurt out of his nostrils as he fights for breath. He is in all kinds of distress, but you are unmoved by it and refuse to let him go until you've completely emptied your balls down his throat. Once you do, you ease back, allowing the knob of your dick to pop out of his esophagus. He gasps and slumps forward, spitting up a big wad of saliva and sperm, which plops onto the tiled floor, and coughing as air begins to fill his lungs again. You look down at him, grumbling, "You should've swallowed it like I told you." "But I tried..." he gasps. "That's not good enough." You stuff your shrinking dick back in your jeans and zip up. "Now wipe your face and come on." You walk out of the bathroom and again, much to your surprise, he is right behind you, sniffling and snuffling as he dabs at his face with a small piece of toilet paper. It's as though "that" part of you has hynotized him. This little boy has even more potential than you realized. You begin to wonder if there is anything he won't do for you. You decide that the next crime scene should be his own room. He follows you in there, and you tell him to sit on his bed. "Take off your clothes," you say. "But I don't wanna go to bed yet," he protests. "It's too early." "Who said anything about going to bed? Did I tell you put on your PJs?" "...no." "Then just do what I said. Take off your clothes...then lay down...face up." He eyes you suspiciously then gives you a little smile. He's figured out that this is a continuation of the bathroom game and seems eager to play, hurriedly stripping off his clothes and getting into position on the bed. You find it hard to believe he's ready for more, being that he nearly choked to death on your cock, but his little three-inch erection tells you he is. "Close your eyes," you tell him. When he does, you undress, climb on top of him in a 69, and inch back until your ass is poised over his head. Then you sit on his face. You are surprised when he doesn't try to push you off. In fact he doesn't even turn his head. You can feel the bridge of his nose in the crack of your ass and his hot breath on your anus. You lift up a little and fart in his face, making him groan. "Smell it," you tell him. He surprises you again when you hear him sniffing, filling his lungs with the putrid odor. It excites you to have him breathing in your funky fumes, and it thrills you to know that he wouldn't have done this for anyone else in the world but you. You wonder just how far he'll agree to go before he balks, how far you can push the envelope with him. You decide to find out. "Lick my asshole," you tell him. This time he hesitates. Even though he is only six, it's not too young for him to realize how perverted this request is. But you won't back down. You figure he just needs a little encouragement. "I said, Lick my asshole," you reiterate, sitting on his face a little harder. You smile when you feel the tip of his tongue flicking across your anus. Your smile widens when the flicking becomes more intense. Soon he's laving spit over your entire pucker. Soon after that he's lapping away at you, having apparently discovered that the act itself isn't nearly as offensive as the expression. You show him how much you appreciate his efforts by farting in his face again. He shows you what a good little apprentice he is by sticking his nose in your asshole and smelling your gas again. Your dick is already rehardening. You inch back and begin to slide it along his face, smearing him with precum. You love the feeling of your balls bumping over his nose, lips, and chin. Apparently he likes it too because soon you feel his hands on your ass. After only a couple of minutes, your cock is fully erect again. You turn around to face him, putting your knees next to his shoulders. Your erection hovers over him again in all its eight-inch glory. You stare down at him, directly into his big brown eyes. "You know where I'm gonna put this now, don't you?" He doesn't respond verbally, but the look of fear that washes over his face answers your question loud and clear. "Turn over and close your eyes," you tell him. To your astonishment he obeys, pressing his face into his pillow. Even though he knows what you are going to do to him, he still trusts you enough to turn his back on you. He doesn't realize what a big mistake this is. He's not mature enough. And you're not mature enough to tell him. Instead, smiling, you get up, stroll down the hall into his mom's bedroom, and search the drawers of her nightstand until you locate the tube of KY jelly you were certain you'd find. From there you saunter into the kitchen, open the fridge, and a take couple of swigs from the jug of spring water his mom keeps there. It refreshes you, fortifying you for the task to come. But instead of rushing back to him, you wait, casually taking another swig of water. Then you take a couple of minutes to look around the kitchen. You're not looking for or at anything in particular. You are simply making him wait, knowing how much it will increase his anxiety. "That" part of you thinks it's a good sadistic idea. When you finally return to his room, you are pleased to see that he hasn't moved a muscle. Sitting next to him, you begin to caress his behind, moving your hand sensually over the smooth little light-skinned humps and dipping your middle finger into his narrow ass crack. Your actions have the desired effect of relaxing him. Soon he's moaning and gently swiveling his hips. You stop long enough to lubricate your middle finger with the KY then go back to caressing him. After another few seconds you spread his cheeks with the thumb and forefinger of your unlubricated hand and gently insert your greased fingertip into his anus. "Nngh!" he gasps, flinching. His sphincter grabs your invading finger, preventing it from advancing any farther. "Relax," you tell him, caressing his ass again. It doesn't take long for him to open his back door to you, and soon your whole finger is nestled snugly inside his rectum, which is clutching spasmodically on it. While you love it that he's so hot and tight back there, you realize that it's going to take some work on your part before you can put your dick where your finger is. For the next several minutes you become an amateur proctologist, poking and probing his anus with one lubed-up finger after another until he is able to take three twisting fingertips without too much wincing. You know that even three fingers aren't enough to match the girth of your cock, to say nothing of the length. But all you're concerned about right now is getting the head in, and you figure you've stretched him open just enough for that to happen. So after giving his asshole a final dose of KY then greasing up your shaft with it, you mount him. As you aim your turgid weapon at his tiny hole, a voice inside you says, This is impossible. The anus of a first-grade child is not designed to accommmodate the cock of a horny college teenager. You're WAY too big and he's WAY too small for this to work. But the idea of forcing a square peg into a round hole appeals so much to you that you know you won't back off. "That" part of you won't let you. So you nudge your dickhead between his buns until the tapered tip is pressing against his pucker. Then you take a deep breath and push. Right away you feel his whole body tense up. "It hurts!" he yelps, trying to crawl from under you. You hear him and don't hear him. His pain concerns you but not as much as your pleasure. So while you feel bad that he's hurting, it doesn't stop you from holding him down and forcing the entire length of your super-hard cock into his virgin asshole, skewering him as he lets go with a resounding squeal. You're amazed when, half a minute later, you bottom out in his little butthole. Your extensive finger-fuck preparation has worked after all and, incredibly, your whole pole is now planted firmly in his throbbing rectum. Its heat and tightness are like nothing you've ever experienced before, and "that" part of you is shouting, I TOLD YOU SO! as it sits waving its hat from the top of Pedo Peak. "Damn, that shit feels good," you hear yourself moan. Suddenly he stops squirming, as if just knowing how much he's satisfying you is enough to calm him down. But you both know it's not just a matter of getting it in. You both know that his asshole will now have to endure the battering his throat just barely survived. And you both know that it won't be over until his little hole has swallowed a big slimy dose of teen sperm. You don't get going right away. You convince yourself that it is so he can get used to the feeling of having two-thirds of a foot of dick stuck up his little ass, but it's really because you want to savor this incredible feeling. You feel his body moving up and down with each ragged breath he takes. You also feel a rapid pulse at the base of your swollen cock, and you're amazed that you literally can't figure out whether it's his or yours. You're also surprised that he hasn't stirred and you haven't heard a peep out of him. You fancy that you've discovered the perfect non-medical cure for Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder in kids: Just shove a big black boner up their little asses and they'll calm right down! You fantasize about hiring yourself out to all those frustrated parents. ("That's right, Mrs. Smith, just ten doses per day of nigger dick and little Johnny will be as meek as a kitten.") You'd make enough money in a week to cover your school tuition for a year! But you don't want to waste time daydreaming about butt-to-be when there's butt-to-be-had right under you. So you brace yourself and begin to lift up, slowly withdrawing your ramrod from what has already become its favorite hiding place. All that KY you used allows you to pull out rather easily. When only the head remains inside him, you stop and look underneath yourself. Again you're amazed that you were able to cram so much cock into so little ass. After admiring your accomplishment for a minute, you slowly lower yourself back down, stuffing all that cock right back up his turd tunnel. Several seconds later, your balls are again resting against his butt cheeks and his rectum is again pulsating on your shaft. You repeat the process a few times, and you can feel his rectum slowly expanding to accommodate you. He still hasn't said a word. You interpret his silence as his way of giving you permission to proceed, so you begin to fuck him, moving at a steady, measured pace. Though you've only gotten started, you already know it's the best ass fuck you've ever had. But it's not just the amazing tightness and incredible heat of his anus that make it qualify. It's who and what he is, where you are, and the fact that you're doing something you're not supposed to be doing that make it so good for you. You begin to wonder if you'll ever be satisfied fucking your girlfriend again. Gradually you speed up your strokes. Now, along with the mattress squeaking and the bedframe rattling, you can hear your crotch smacking against his ass. You are again amazed that he's taking it all so passively. Every time you stuff his little shitter, nothing more than a breathy high-pitched grunt comes out of him. It's a striking contrast to the howling and cursing your girlfriend does when you fuck her ass. It's just one more thing about him that surprises and impresses you. Still, since this is his first time getting porked, you want to keep things civil (well, anyway, at least as civil as a pedophile can be fucking a six-year-old boy up the ass). But it is not to be. Soon "that" part of you takes over again and before you know it, you are fucking him with the same unbridled passion you unleash when fucking your girlfriend. You slam into him, riding his pert little ass for all it's worth, ramming your rod so far up inside him that you half expect to see the head poke out of his mouth. Again you wonder how the hell he manages to take it. But as long as he does, you don't really care. He is your sex toy, and you get to play with him however you want, even if, ultimately, it means destroying him. Just like when you were mouth-fucking him, you wish you could continue to plug his little poop chute all day long. But your stop is coming up fast. The stimulation is just too overwhelming, and you can no longer hold back. "Shit! Fuck! I'm coming! Take it right up that high-yellow ass, you little bitch!" With a final powerful thrust, you bury all eight inches of your dick in his bowels and begin to tremble. Your tool swells and throbs as it shoots spurt after spurt of semen deep in his six-year-old shithole. The feeling is so intense that you swear you're going to pass out. But you don't, and you're grateful you don't, because only by being fully awake can you bask in the heady hedonism of climaxing up the ass of a young boy. It takes a few minutes for the last ripples of your orgasm to pass through you. Only after you've emptied your balls and begin to drift back down to earth do you realize he's crying, quietly sobbing into his pillow. "You okay?" you feel compelled to ask. "Uh-huh," he sniffles. You want to care, want to feel sorry for putting this little boy through probably the worst pain he's ever felt in his young life. But you don't. In fact, the more you think about how you just flooded his back door with hundreds of millions of your teenaged sperm, how they're having a wild party in the basement of his digestive tract, the hornier you get, and the more your cock begins to reharden inside him. "I'm gonna do you again," you say. When he doesn't respond, you go right back to pumping his rump, not as hard this time but just as steadily, once again making sure every inch of your dick finds its way inside his decimated dunghole with each stroke. After several minutes, you shoot a second load of hot sperm in his bowels. This orgasm is not as intense as the first, but it is even more satisfying, being that you were able to savor the fucking that led up to it even more. Even though you've come twice, you're still so turned on just being inside him that your teenaged hormones will not quiet down. You know it would be pure gluttony to go for Round Three in his tiny tailpipe. But "that" part of you tells you that Greed is Good, and before you know it, your cock is swelling up again and you find yourself humping his hiney a third time. It seems to take forever to spurt that third load up his ass, but you finally do, revelling in the fact that his you've given him a butt full of baby-makers. For the next few minutes you just lie on top of him while his sphincter contracts spasmodically on your shrinking shaft. You don't even bother lifting up to keep him from feeling the full weight of your 165-pound body on his 50-pound one. In fact, you're so drained you almost doze off. Only when you feel him squirming under you do you snap yourself out of it and begin to withdraw your overworked cock. The head exits his hole with an obscene plop, and you look down at the mess your venture into prepubescent anal sex has left your penis in. It is coated with a sticky glaze of sperm, shit, and KY, and it stinks to high heaven. But his asshole is even worse. It looks like it came out on the losing end of a 12-round prizefight. As you examine it, it becomes crystal clear to you why the laws against young men having sex with young boys are so harsh. Once tiny, pink and constricted, his anus is now gaping, red and puffy, and a combination of sperm and liquified shit is oozing out of it. You know his sphincter will eventually close up again, but you also know that his asshole will never be the same, that he will never again be as tight back there as he was before you fucked him. You should feel ashamed of yourself for ruining him for life at such a tender age. But you don't. Your only thought is how it will now be even easier to fuck him when you come back next Saturday. Adding insult to injury, you take another look at your soiled dick and begin to think of something else, something even nastier. You've only seen ass-to-mouth done in porno flicks. You've wanted to experience it personally, but none of the girls you've cornholed, including your girlfriend, has ever offered to do it. And whenever you suggested it, they all declined. Their filth meters simply don't register that low. "Open your mouth," you tell him. Once again he obeys immediately, though you're sure he knows what's coming. You're also sure he knows that his asshole isn't very clean and what he's going to end up eating. He can probably smell it. But it doesn't seem to matter. His only defense is to keep his eyes closed so he can't see what you're about to do to him. "That" part of you wants to tell him to keep them open so his can witness the oral defilement. But you decide to let him hold on to that tiny bit of self-respect. As your shitty cock slides into his mouth, he scowls and groans. His reaction pleases you. After all, there's no reason a six-year-old should actually enjoy having his lips and tongue used as toilet paper. Licking your asshole was one thing; being forced to eat his own shit is another. So he SHOULD be disgusted. Naturally, his disgust turns you on. It's also, oddly, a kind of insurance. The nastier you are with him, the less likely he is to tell on you or to mention any of this to his little friends, since it will reflect as much on him as it does on you. Once you've convinced yourself of the irrefutable logic of this twisted thought, you no longer feel compelled to hold on to the piss that's once again filled your bladder. "Mmph! Mmph!" he complains as your pee surges into his mouth. But your hands are again firmly planted at the back of his head, so he either has to drink it or drown. Fortunately for both of you, he chooses the former, swallowing the deluge in desperate gulps. You're surprised to be going again so soon after the major leak you took to get this whole sexual ball rolling. But that spring water you drank before fucking his ass went right through you. It doesn't seem to be as refreshing for him as it was for you, though. You conclude that it probably lost something in the recycling. As soon as you finish pissing in his mouth, you begin to feel the other urge. You wonder if he's submissive enough to pay you the ultimate homage. "That" part of you, of course, is pushing you to do it, telling you that the worst he can do is refuse but that he would NEVER refuse you, no matter what you ask him to do. You want to believe this, and you're so intrigued by the idea of doing something so disgusting to a cute little boy that you quickly convince yourself that what "that" part of you is saying is right again. So you pull your dick from between his lips and proceed to squat over his face. "Open your mouth," you say to him for the third time today. You can almost hear his heart beating double-time. He's no dummy. He knows good and well what your bulging, blood-filled anus is about to give birth to. But when you look down, you are shocked to see that his dink is hard again. And when you look at him from between his legs, you are even more shocked to see that his mouth is wide open! You continue to be perplexed by the way this little boy behaves with you. He could just as easily have kept his mouth closed, locking his jaws and clamping his teeth together. If he had, there would have been no way to force him to open his mouth, and the show would've been over. So what is it about you that makes him do something that, even at his age, he understands to be abnormal and depraved? And how did "that" part of you know with such certainty that he would do it? But you know these are questions you can't answer, and, really, you should not even be asking at this time. You need to perform now and ponder later. So, still looking under yourself, you let go, relaxing your insides, and let nature takes its course. Within seconds a thick brown log appears from between your legs, emerging from behind your balls. It gets longer and longer, and as it slowly descends, you see that you have positioned yourself well--you are right on target. When it's only a few inches above his face, you draw in your sphincter, pinching it off, and it drops directly in his mouth. "Eat it," you quietly command him. He quietly complies, frowning and grunting and groaning as he chows down on your turd. It's an incredible sight: His eyes are closed, his mouth is packed, and his jaws are in constant motion, working overtime to reduce the horrible mouthful you've fed him into something capable of being consumed. Just as incredible is the sound, the smacking of his lips and tongue as your shit and his saliva mix together into a lumpy paste. It take three swallows for him to gulp it all down, after which he begins to pant with his mouth wide open again. You turn around and stare down his throat. His mouth is empty and his tongue is brown. You work up a big loogie, spit it in his mouth, and watch his face squinch up as he swallows it. You smile and say, "I'm gonna finish going now. Make sure you eat it all, okay?" With his eyes still squeezed shut, he nods and opens his mouth again. You turn around, re-settle your ass over his face, and drop another smelly brown bomb straight down the hatch. Again he chews it up and swallows it. Just watching him eat another big mouthful of your shit is more than enough to give you another boner. This time you get your rocks off by turning around, leaning over his head, and jacking off. He squints and flinches when your spunk splashes all over his face. Only now are you satiated. Fortunately it coincides with his bedtime. So you bathe him, making sure to wash away all evidence of your perverse encounter. This includes having him brush his teeth and gargle. When he's nice and clean, you towel him off and send him back in his room to put on him pajamas, admiring the way his little light-skinned butt jiggles as he scurries out of the bathroom. You wait a couple of minutes before following him into his room. By the time you get there, he is already wearing his pajamas and is buttoning the last of the buttons on the oversized top. Before tucking him in, though, you want to see what kind of shape his asshole is in. You tell him to turn around and bend over beside his bed. He does, laying his elbows on the mattress, and you tug his PJs down just enough to expose the butt you just got through ogling. Gently grasping his buns, you spread them apart to uncover his asshole. You are concerned that it is still leaking sperm. You tell him to take them off and help him into the pair tighty-whiteys he took off earlier. Then you help him back into his pajama bottoms. Now the briefs will catch whatever come that happens to drool out of his bowels. You instruct him to take the briefs off in the morning and hide them until you see him again next Saturday. You hope he hasn't been so traumatized by everything he's experienced today that he forgets what you tell him. By the time his mom gets home, he is fast asleep. After all, it has been a long and exhausting day for him. The two of you check in on him together. He looks angelic as he lies there snoozing with a devilish combination of shit, piss, and come churning in his tummy. When she asks you what the two of you did all day in all the bad weather, you smile and tell her she'd be surprised to know how many indoor activities a couple of guys can find to do on a rainy Saturday. She smiles at you, compliments you on being so resourceful, and tells you how she just KNEW you were the right babysitter for her son (!) ***************************************** The following Saturday, and the next one, and the one after that, you not only repeat the acts you performed on him that first time, you go further with each one. Because it's sunny on those days, you don't get to do every single thing every single time since you need to leave time for playing in the park, which you both enjoy. But over the weeks, you do enough to keep him on course to becoming a full-fledged Boy Whore and certified Sex Toy. Before you know it, three months have gone by. His seventh birthday is right around the corner. You're already making plans for it. Though it falls on a Thursday, you will celebrate it when you see him the following Saturday. You're especially anticipating how he will react to the sperm frosting on the cupcake you're going to give him. But just two weeks before the big day, all your plans go right down the toilet. His mother and father have reconciled, and she's moving across the country to live with him. The news devastates you. Since breaking up with your girlfriend a while ago, he has been your sole source for sex. You can't even imagine finding another boy as submissive as he is, and certainly not one who will provide you with as much perverted pleasure. He seems sad too, but you can tell it comes in a distant second to the excitement he feels about his mom, his dad, and him getting back together as a family. There's just one more babysitting session before he leaves. You try to make the most of it by crossing the park off your list of activities and spending all day fucking his mouth and ass and using him as a human toilet. Through it all, he remains as passive as can be. After putting him to bed, you sit next to him and tell him how much you'll miss him. He doesn't respond. He just stares at you with a strange look on his face, as if he's trying to figure you out. Then he smiles a crooked little smile and turns away from you. Two minutes laters he's asleep. The following Saturday, you watch as he, his mom, and his dad drive off behind a huge moving van. From his child's seat in the back, he turns and waves to you through the rear window, giving you another crooked smile. You wonder what that smile means, what's going through his young brain when he looks at you. You'll probably never get the chance to find out. While this bothers you, you decide that whatever he's thinking doesn't matter. What's more important is what YOU'RE thinking: that you're losing your boy toy forever. You are already mourning the loss. At the same time, though, you realize how fortunate you are to have met him and spent as much time as you did with him. You also feel lucky that he kept his mouth shut, so you got to molest him without suffering any consequences. Send comments to: Coproman69@hotmail.com